The Iron Claw

I never got into wrestling. I couldn’t quite tell you why. I grew up during the Attitude Era, I knew the names of a bunch of them, played wrestling video games, had friends into it, and yet I never cared. I don’t know if the idea that it’s “fake” poisoned the idea for me. Although I do know I got into the UFC for a bit, so maybe there’s something to that? In any case, in the years since, I’ve grown to respect the sport greatly. Not enough to watch it, no. But to understand all that goes into it, that its theatricality is the point, and that “fake” simply means the outline of the match is determined beforehand. Most of the blows being landed are really making contact, it’s just that assailant and receiver both know how to minimize the damage they cause. There are still incredible physical feats being performed, it’s an absurdly grueling and demanding sport, and very dangerous.

All of this means that I was unfamiliar with the Von Erich family. I feel like I’ve heard the name, but that’s it. So while I went in knowing this was a biopic, I still had little idea of what to expect. Granted, the early idea of a family curse gave me a sense of foreboding from moment one, as I sensed this could only play out one of two ways: either they rise above, making the idea of a curse laughable; or any tragedy that befalls them marks the beginning of many to come. And there was little hint of the former.

We experience the story from the perspective of Kevin (Zac Efron), the oldest of the four brothers. A talented wrestler, he never could quite nail the chatter aspect. When David (Harris Dickinson) enters the ring to tag team with his brother, he proves to be skilled in both, sowing the seeds for resentment. At the same time, the US boycott of the 1980 Summer Olympics in Moscow killed the discus dreams of Kerry (Jeremy Allen White), so he moves back home and joins his brothers in the ring. As such, we’re treated to the comradery and support they already constantly showed each other outside of the ring translated seamlessly into it. This extends to youngest brother Michael (Stanley Simons), who has more musical aspirations before finally following in his brothers’ footsteps.

All the while, they’re being pushed to the limit by their father Fritz (Holt McCallany), with their mother Dori (Maura Tierny) staying distant. The boys are in part so close out of necessity: it’s clear their parents feel no obligation to provide moral support, just direction and discipline. Fritz is single-minded in bringing the world championship belt into his household, living his dream through his sons. To the exclusion and detriment of everything around him.

While couched as a sports movie, it’s really more of a family drama where wrestling is what drives the plot forward. It’s at the core of all of their actions, even though many are the desires of the patriarch imposed on his children. David is excited to jump in the ring, but we don’t get the sense that Kerry has the same passion for it, even though he quickly excels. Then there’s Mike, who seems to have little interest in competition, even when the family is just horsing around with a football in the yard. Yet wrestling is such a driving force for the family, even he gets roped in. It’s more of a compulsion for the Von Erichs than it is about love of the sport. They feel the need to make their father proud, which leads to much heartache, as the way to do that doesn’t always mirror their wants. For example, when David is put forth as the number one contender for the world wrestling championship over Kevin, we see how much it wrecks him, even as he endeavors to support his brother. He’s been working so hard, but as he explains to Pam (Lily James) on their first date, success breeds promotion. Sensitive soul that he is, he’s never been able to feud effectively with anyone, hence getting stuck.

The price the movie plays for wonderfully capturing the family’s dynamics is more weakly capturing the individuals’. The closest we get is Kevin’s, naturally, but none of the brothers feel like super well fleshed out characters. We never really understand how Kerry feels about missing out on his Olympic shot, save for a generic “frustrated”, and only get glimpses of what appears to be a gradually worsening drug problem. David doesn’t delve into any possible complicated feelings about leapfrogging his brother, and we skip a bunch of time between that announcement and just before his trip to Japan, so we don’t get anything on his feud with Ric Flair. Mike’s decision to jump into the ring just kind of happens, and we never figure out what happened to his band. Even Kevin is hard to get to truly know, in part because each time he tries to talk to someone, they shut him down.

Which is part of the point. Early on, when Kevin asks his mother if he can talk to her, she responds with “That’s what your brothers are for”. Never mind that it was concerning his father’s treatment of Mike, so talking to his brothers would do nothing. But that’s the family’s whole mentality: little internality is acknowledged. Things left unsaid might as well not be real.

I get that, but its application to the characters still makes them feel a bit cold in their relationship to the audience. What are their animating forces? What are their own desires? Their fears? A few of them do express being scared at some key moments, but it’s never explored and feels very sudden, so it doesn’t really land. In this way, the dialog and thematic elements are fairly clunky and blunt, so they feel like the script telling you what it wants to be about, rather than being about those things.

Some of that might be down to the performances. Everyone is good enough, but none of the brothers leave a huge impression. Even Efron, of whom I’m usually such a fan, even when the movie around him sucks. They’re not bad, but the only remarkable thing about them is how inexplicable their hair/wigs are. Instead, it’s Lily James who steals the show, a warm and animated presence in this world of gruff masculinity. Her charisma radiates from the screen, despite her somewhat limited screentime.

Ultimately, this is a solid tale of legacy and masculinity and family. The score suits it well, another jazzy riff from Richard Reed Perry, whom I recently encountered doing more distinct work in Eileen. But it fails to achieve the depths of something like The Wrestler, to which I can’t help but compare it. It’s well done, and gives you a firm understanding of what the wrestling world was like in the 80s. It fits squarely in the milieu of A24’s pictures, but without the daring that sets the best of them apart. As such, while I definitely enjoyed it, I fear it will be soon forgotten, which will be a shame.