The Wrestler is a movie where you will not see any dogs. Not a single dog, anywhere. However. When Mickey Rourke won a Golden Globe for fine acting last week, one of the people he thanked, in his graphite purple satin suit and Steven Tyler scarf, were his dogs. He has 7 chihuahuas. Rock on Mickey, mumbling, “Sometimes when a man is alone, that’s all you’ve got is your dog.” Dogs or no dogs on screen itself, you might like this movie, or at least Mickey Rourke as Randy the Ram.

You will have to understand a few things. One is that you might see a lot of sharp things gouged into skin, drawing not just dribblets of blood but thick, steady streams of it. You will learn something new about wrestling I suspect you didn’t know before. And that Mickey Rourke, who calls himself Randy the Ram but is named actually Robin Ramzinski, in the movie, fancies himself an Axl Rose in a Dee Schneider, post metal-post rehab sort of way. Banged up and cheaply blonded and puffed up and sliced up. Remember when Axl Rose got his work done and it was so confusing to see him, all puffy yet with new pointy bits? Hair tied up in a little knot, and his duct taped down jacket which causes you not to picture a Sartorialist caption saying, Grunge Layering with Tape, New Jersey. But something about the heavy breathing mic they keep on him the whole time, and his unlaced boots, makes you like him even more. Most of the time.

It’s a story about f***ing up and trying to do ok. You can probably sort of guess how it goes. Nothing new there. A van down by the river and steroids and sparkly spandex tights with appliques. Been there, done that. You will see Marissa Tomei with no clothes a lot, so if strippers are not your thing I would say between that and a lot of sharp things in the skin maybe you wouldn’t want to go to this movie. However, you could also learn things about stripper panties and how they stay attached to bottoms, and how wrestlers chit chat before their events. Sort of how you will learn new things about staple guns and bashing stuff with prosthetic legs.

I would say as a movie, overall, it is mostly sad and a story you already know. If instead, you go watch for a couple hours of Mickey Rourke’s low grunty breathing, and shuffling, painful walk, banged up, drugged up face, and wonder how just a quick flick of a hearing aid can make you almost cry, this is quite an amazing thing. Wait til you go to the lonliest autograph signing with him in the American Legion Hall. Really, the whole movie is about looking at that face, so close up, like all his chihuahuas see at home.