The Iron Claw (2023, Sean Durkin) (Patreon)

52/100

Cutting one of the Von Erich brothers doesn't solve the fundamental problem: This is (still) a cavalcade of misery that'd be hooted offscreen if not for the fact that it actually happened. Having gone in with no foreknowledge—me being about as far from a wrestling fan as you can get without perpetually wearing a bow tie—I thought for a while, with some real interest, that I was watching a terribly sad film about dreams forever deferred, with Kevin watching helplessly as his big opportunity keeps being handed instead to brothers he deeply loves (which makes it worse, in a way, since he can't even feel properly resentful). I know we were supposed to do the whole "Hey, Efron can act!" thing 15 years ago, but that was mostly just a matter of his not embarrassing himself in a Linklater joint (where he was completely overshadowed, in any case, by Christian McKay's Welles); here, adding all of that muscle, alongside the indignity of some deeply unflattering '70s hair and wardrobe,* seems to have liberated something in him, and he gives a superbly internalized performance that pushes grudging acceptance toward real heartbreak. Of course, that's not actually what attracted Durkin to this story, and it recedes as we move further and further into "heart of stone to read the death of Little Nell without laughing" territory. It's quite frustrating, because Holt McCallany, too, gives unexpected depth to his Bad Dad, layering the restrained sadism with visible pride and affection and love. I can readily imagine a version of The Iron Claw that I'd very much like, and "needs fewer unbearable tragedies" seems like a churlish complaint when the tragedies in question are all real (and when one was in fact removed, precisely because Durkin felt like that was simply too much). But that's why I've long argued that filmmakers inspired by true stories should identify which aspects rattle their soul and then thoroughly fictionalize those, so that they won't feel obligated to honor every fallen Von Erich. Truly terrible final scene—I understood why Kevin is weeping at the end; did not need him to explain that he was thinking about how he used to be a brother and now he isn't one anymore; did not need his sons giving him express permission to cry even though he's a man; let Efron communicate that silently, he's been doing fantastic, subtle work for the past two hours and change!; also why is every fucking movie 132 minutes now, that used to be reserved for eight major films per year—did not help. 

* I'm on record preferring the '70s look to modern coiffure, e.g. Glen Powell is orders of magnitude more attractive as Finn in Everybody Wants Some!!—technically 1980, I know, but c'mon—than he is as Hangman in Top Gun: Maverick. (Or in that new Sydney Sweeney romcom, if you think comparison with a military haircut is unfair.) But there are terrible '70s fashion choices, for sure, and this movie is fuckin' replete with 'em. Quite accurate, too, judging from the handful of actual Von Erich photos I've seen.