It’s been said before, but it bears repeating: it’s tough to believe that Mickey Rourke was once one of Hollywood’s hottest mainstream actors. He electrified the screen in films such as Diner and 9 ½ Weeks. But lately, he’s made more waves on his criminal record than his cinematic résumé.

We thought his comeback would rev up with his supporting role in Sin City, but he hasn’t had a good followup role until now, with the release of The Wrestler. The film is one of those opportune convergences of actor, role, and filmmaker, with Darren Aronofsky (Requiem for a Dream) guiding Rourke in a masterful performance.

Rourke plays Randy “The Ram” Robinson, a professional wrestler who was at the top of his game in the 1980s. The film doesn’t say whether he proverbially had it all, but we can assume that life was much better for him then. Because these days, things have taken a turn for the worse. Fame has dwindled, and Randy finds it hard to make ends meet (he works part time in a supermarket to earn extra money).

But while Randy could easily be painted as a completely hopeless has-been, that’s not necessarily the case. He may not be as big as he once was, but the wrestling ring is still his home. The crowds are smaller, but they still love him. The competition is lower-profile, but they respect him tremendously. As bad as his life outside the ring is, Randy still finds the will to live based on what happens inside it.

In a turn of events (and the only irksome plot contrivance) Randy suffers a heart attack after a particularly brutal bout. Apparently, it’s not uncommon for fights to be staged with the wrestlers using sharp implements to injure each other with, a side of the sport I had not seen. Anyway, his doctor tells him that if he fights again, there’s a strong chance he’ll die.

Randy uses this news to make an effort to improve his personal life. He angles for more time at the supermarket. He tries to strike up a more evolved relationship with a stripper named Pam (Marisa Tomei). Most importantly, he tries to mend the fragmented relationship with his estranged daughter Stephanie (Evan Rachel Wood).

The film finds director Aronofsky departing from his established directorial style. His previous films have emphasized visual pizzazz (employing either quick-cut montage sequences or elaborate special effects) and a bombastic score. These techniques were a bit showy, but they served their stories tremendously well. The Wrestler isn’t a story that calls for such techniques, and Aronofsky is adept in changing his filmmaking approach to fit the story. Shots are longer, the look is strikingly simplistic and Clint Mansell’s score is somber.

Mickey Rourke’s performance has been generating a lot of buzz, and all of it is deserved. Aronofsky has fought hard to feature Rourke in this role. Nicolas Cage was originally attached to star, but left after Aronofsky told him his heart was with Rourke. Additionally, the director had difficulty securing financing for the film because of Rourke, his checkered past and erratic career choices planting seeds of doubt in many a backer.

But Aronofsky’s tenacity is paying off: Rourke gives an electrifying performance. Perhaps channeling some personal demons (he’s been a professional boxer and has also seen better days), Rourke infuses the role with humanity and sincerity. With his character occupying so much screen time (I would say about 98%), it’s crucial that we like him, identify with him, and root for him to succeed. Rourke accomplishes all of these, playing the part with unassuming earnest that’s immensely enthralling.

The film is strongest after Randy has suffered his first heart attack, and he is more or less forced to rebuild his life outside of the ring. Here, we see a man trying to survive in a world where he’s insignificant. As low as his career stock has fallen, a speck of adoration is still there to define him. He wrestles, therefore he is. Randy struggles with this loss of identity, yet tries his hardest to make it work.

Most affecting are Randy’s attempts to create relationships with the only two women prevalent in his life. He has talked to Pam at the strip joint, and she has entertained him many a time. But when he tries to relate to her outside of that environment, she is hesitant to cross that line. As much as she’d like to make things work, she still sees him as a customer and doesn’t want to take that chance. Tomei plays this very vulnerable part (physically and emotionally) well, adding dimensions beyond the “stripper with a heart of gold” stereotype.

As for Stephanie, this is where the film is at its most emotional. Randy has not seen his teenage daughter since she was very young, and like Pam, she also is conflicted on whether or not to take Randy at his word when he reaches out to her. She desperately needs a father figure, but knows that this particular influence could lead to hurtful feelings. Wood doesn’t have a lot of screen time in this part, and has a tendency to overact, but she plays well off of Rourke.

The Wrestler may remind some of Rocky, although it is closer in spirit to the recent film of that series, Rocky Balboa. Both films feature past-their-prime athletes trying to mend their world away from the ring. But where at least Rocky had established a successful career and business, Randy is truly down on his luck. And his desperate, fateful attempts to leave that world behind give The Wrestler its own identity. If nothing else, see the movie for Rourke’s gritty, soul-bearing performance.