Though it is nowhere in our city at present, The Wrestler's US release appears to have started this week; it's the film that supposedly marks Darren Aronofsky's return to serious filmmaking after the embarrassing and expensive folly of The Fountain, and has a comeback lead performance by Mickey Rourke (whose turn in Sin City was about the only thing I liked or respected about that film). Roger Ebert's (highly praising) review here, official site here. I have a very good feeling about this film. It's an odd sort of excitement to feel, this quivering anticipation: I remember when I used to get similarly worked up to hear that there would be a new film opening by people like John Sayles, Martin Scorsese, or Jim Jarmusch. I'm far more jaded, more mistrustful now. There are American filmmakers who DO excite me now - Kelly Reichardt, Robinson Devor, Gregg Araki - but it's not quite the same thing; I know that when I go see The Wrestler, there will be a few dozen people in the same audience who REALLY want to see Mickey Rourke in it, and a dozen more who are curious to see what Aronofsky's next step will be, having seen all his previous films. It's the anticipation of a public event, as much as it is excitement about a new movie - the knowledge that you are going somewhere to be with other people who know just as well as you do what they're going for, who are in the same state of hope and anticipation, who will be watching as attentively as you.
...it probably won't even play here theatrically, right? I wonder.