Mickey Rourke in 'The Wrestler' will stomp on your heart

By Claudia Puig, USA TODAY

In The Wrestler (* * * out of four), Mickey Rourke wallops us with a damaged hero who is full of pathos and poignant contradictions.

A superstar in the '80s, Rourke's Randy "The Ram" Robinson tries gamely to maintain his heavy metal/Viking image. But he's pushing 50. With his blond extensions and tanning-salon-enhanced visage, the washed-up fighter struts and preens and amps up the staged, bloody choreography before tiny audiences at his smattering of gigs.

More often, he sucks it up and goes to his day job at a grocery store, his bleached locks encased in a hairnet. Outside the ring, he's Robin (the given name he despises), spooning out pasta salad for indecisive old biddies. His innate charm helps him work the crowds in both places until, overcome by humiliation, he loses it in the supermarket.

Rourke gives the performance of his life. Tough, clueless and more self-aware than he lets on, Randy is excruciatingly sad. When he describes himself as "an old, broken-down piece of meat," your heart aches for him.

It's not just his ego that has taken a beating. Randy's body is busted, too. His heart is dodgy, he wears a hearing aid and needs reading glasses. But he's not going quietly into late middle age. Driving in his truck, he continues to blare the heavy metal music of his glory days.

Director Darren Aronofsky (The Fountain) has drawn an Oscar-caliber performance from Rourke and powerful portrayals from supporting players Evan Rachel Wood as Stephanie, Randy's estranged daughter, and Marisa Tomei as Cassidy, the stripper with a heart of something very close to gold.

The story has its clichéd and sentimental moments. It's no Raging Bull, more like Rocky shot with a handheld camera. But Rourke's wounded tough guy is undeniably captivating. He smacks you in the gut and wrenches your heart. (Rated R for violence, sexuality/nudity, language, some drug use. Running time: 1 hour, 49 minutes. Opens today in select cities.)