Requiem for a Rassler?

A sad movie, from my point of view, which showed America slipping under an imaginary boundary separating "second-world" from "third-world" nation. It seemed to me a brutal story terribly told of trapped and tortured animals of the homo sapiens species, although not quite human in some awful sense. Strippers, on the one hand who only resembled human females in physical form but who were denied expression of the defining traits of femininity. On the other end of this tale are the "wrestlers", far removed from their Grecian prototypes and far also removed from the gestalt of human correspondence, retaining only that vestige visited occasionally by the normal male of "good-ole boy" bondage. Their common bond being their willingness to permit their "friends" to savagely and excessively rip their bodies apart for the amusement of their "fans". Once out of the glitter of the performing stage, these pitiful creatures were blown by the winds of winter along frozen landscapes decorated with destroyed buildings and decrepit trailer parks through a world which held them in smug contempt. All this for those few moments when they performed for their clearly emotionally-deformed admirers. Perhaps the worst part of it all was the premise that these gifts of life are being passed not from a Great Creator to an Adam-creature as seen in Michelango's great work and who can now commence on his own volition, but from a detritus of human wreckage left by a society which had collapsed and are "awarded" as a finger might point to the blame.

The real story of this movie, for me at least, is a call to examine our own lives to see how much we too strive to honor principles and serve masters who seek our souls and our humanity.