Heavyweight champ of the fest so far, however, is Darren Aronofsky’s The Wrestler, starring Mickey Rourke in a career-capping/resuscitating/redefining performance as an over-the-hill pro wrestler still grappling with opponents both physical and metaphysical. I’ve written at length about the film over at our Toronto blog and will have more still to say in the coming weeks, when The Wrestler (which, as this story was going to press, was bought by Fox Searchlight) makes its U.S. debut as the closing night selection of this year’s New York Film Festival. But simply put: Who’d have thought that one of the great movies of Toronto (and the year) would turn out to be an existentialist tragicomedy decked out in frosted blond hair extensions and spandex tights?
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