When you give your life to something, can you ever get that life back? “The Wrestler” follows Randy ‘The Ram’ Robinson, who gave over his mind, body and soul to professional wrestling in the ‘80s. Now the spotlight on Randy has faded, leaving the washed-up star to ply his trade in the community centers and high school gymnasiums that make up pro wrestling’s lowest circuits. He squeezes in hours at the local supermarket to earn enough money for his rent because his stints in the ring on the weekends no longer pay enough to support him. Week after week, his body takes horrendous beatings with increasingly little reward. When the opportunity for a rematch with his old arch-nemesis, ‘The Ayatollah,’ arises, Randy desperately clings to this last chance to regain his former glory.

Pro-wrestling is usually dismissed these days as a fake. “The Wrestler” goes to great pains (pun intended) to show that this over-simplification glosses over the very real effect of the sport on its competitors. Sure, the winners of the matches are usually fixed in advance, but does that make it any less painful for the wrestler when they are viciously attacked with barbed wire and staple guns? Does that lessen the damage done to their bodies through extensive steroid use? Does it reduce the toll on their already-strained personal relationships? The line between performance and reality is constantly blurred. Watch for an extraordinary following shot of Randy making his way to the deli counter at the supermarket juxtaposed with the gradually building roar of his adoring fans.

Director Darren Aronofsky (“Requiem for a Dream,” “The Fountain”) uses such tracking shots to great effect. The slow pace of the film invites the viewer to contemplate the remarkable face of its leading man. Mickey Rourke, battered in real life both physically (due to a short career in boxing) and psychologically (caused by years of drug abuse and bankruptcy), found a role that clearly hit close to home. Though the supporting cast is talented, this is Rourke’s film through and through. As the tears roll down the bumps and crags of Randy’s disfigured face, the viewer can’t help but feel sympathetic, but this isn’t a man who wants our pity. He just wants the chance to “do his thing,” and really, is there anything else we can ask for?