Wrestling imagery is currently enjoying a spotlight moment. Last year witnessed the brilliance of "The Iron Claw," a film about the tragic tale of the Von Erich brothers that was unjustly overlooked. Now, Ash Avildsen's delightfully old-fashioned biographical drama about Mildred Burke has arrived with a bang. If you're unfamiliar with Burke's name (and most likely, you are), this film aims to rectify that oversight.
Burke was a trailblazer in the sport, becoming the first female athlete to earn a million dollars. She reigned as a three-time women's world champion from the 1930s to the 1950s, an era when women's wrestling was illegal in most parts of the country. Her story cries out to be told, and "Queen of the Ring," which premiered as the opening night film at the 39th annual Fort Lauderdale International Film Festival, does an admirable job of bringing it to life.
Based on Jeff Leen's lavishly titled 2009 book, "The Queen of the Ring: Sex, Muscles, Diamonds, and the Making of an American Legend" (a mouthful that would be challenging to fit on a marquee), the film stars Emily Bett Rickards (of "Arrow") in a standout performance as Burke. We first encounter her as a young, unmarried mother working as a waitress in a Kansas diner, under the watchful gaze of her mother (played by Cara Buono). Millie, with her impressive muscular build, harbors dreams of becoming an entertainer. Since singing and dancing aren't in her repertoire, she decides that wrestling is her ticket out of the small town.
When promoter Billy Wolfe (charismatically portrayed by Josh Lucas) rolls into town with his traveling wrestling show, she seizes the moment to impress him by challenging one of his male wrestlers. Skeptical at first, Billy allows her to compete purely for his amusement. But when she defeats her much larger opponent, he becomes a believer and takes her under his wing. She subsequently racks up victories against men at carnivals across the Midwest.
Throughout her journey, she and Billy fall in love and tie the knot. However, their relationship soon crumbles when he starts cheating on her with several of the other female wrestlers he's added to his roster. Though she agrees to stay married to him, it's purely as a business arrangement. Meanwhile, she embarks on a romantic relationship with his son, G. Bill (played by Tyler Posey of "Teen Wolf"), who has long admired her.
At the festival's glittering press conference, the writer-director Avildsen voiced his profound lament, expressing heartfelt regret that the masterpiece's narrative, which would have blossomed mostfully as a miniseries, had been viciously curtailed. He emphasized that a crucial hour of the story had been summarily excised from the cinematic adaptation. The lamentable effects of this truncation were unmistakably apparent on screen, casting a lingering, disjointed shadow over "Champion," paradoxically rendering the film's pacing feel more elongated than its actual runtime.
As the ensemble swells with the introduction of various female wrestlers—Mae Young, portrayed with striking intensity by Francesca Eastwood; Elvira Snodgrass, brought to life by Marie Avgeropoulos; June Byers, make an impressive screen debut by real-wrestler Kailey Farmer; Nell Stewart, embodied by Kelli Berglund; Gladys Gillem, interpreted with depth by Deborah Ann Woll; and Babs Wingo, played by Damaris Lewis, one of a trio of formidable Black female wrestlers—the narrative fragments begin to show, leaving viewers struggling to keep pace with the abrupt romantic entanglements and business ventures that sometimes emerge unexpectedly.
Yet, the inherent captivating nature of the story, coupled with the cinematic finesse bestowed upon it (despite notable deviations from the source material), ultimately softens the blow. The wrestling sequences are particularly intense, with the actors, especially Rickards, displaying a fierce dedication to their physicality that hints at extensive off-screen nursing required. (It’s noteworthy that the filmmaker may have inherited his prowess for choreographing combat scenes from his father, John Avildsen, whose credits include the iconic ‘Rocky’ saga and three ‘Karate Kid’ films. One of the latter’s stars, Martin Kove, lent his talents to a colorful supporting role in this production.)
Despite its modest budget constraints, the film exudes a visual grandeur, expertly capturing its vintage ambiance through Andrew Strahorn’s striking, sepia-hued cinematography and Sofija Mesicek’s meticulously authentic costumes. The acting ensemble is uniformly compelling, with standout supporting performances from Adam Demos as Mildred’s steadfast friend who later gained fame as Gorgeous George, Walton Goggins as the cunning rival promoter Jack Pfefer, and the charming Gavin Casalengo (of ‘The Summer I Turned Pretty’) as Mildred’s grown son. Yet, it is Rickards who, with unparalleled mastery, navigates the intense physical and emotional demands of her role, infusing the film with its very heartbeat and essence.
