MAN ON FIRE

Following the Indie-smash office success of Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler, and after twenty years of having "left Hollywood for good," Mickey Rourke Signs on to Star in the New Fox Searchlight Picture: The Actor, Once Wildly Famous in the 80's, Who, Upon Shunning Hollywood For Athletic Fame, Destroys his Face, Gets Drunk, Cleans Up, and Bursts Back with Oscar-Worthy Performance. Experts be Damned. Ladies and Gentlemen, Mickey is Back.

Story by Joan T. Chadham                     Photos by Carol King-Kingsley

As Previously Featured in Elle Magazine. 

I'm sitting on the Lower East Side, in the famous Kat's Delicatessen, watching debris swirl in cones outside the front window when Mickey Rourke walks in. There is a shock in seeing him, a shock you try to hide at once, then ponder on for minutes talking to him. His face, a pale Scots-Irish complexion, is worn in like a 1940's catcher's mitt, one played through by a leagure lifer and stoic, made of 100% US horsehide. It is beaten now, yes, but there is a softness left in it, at once feminine and bold, reticent of the shocking good looks he once possessed travailing the streets and films of 1980's Hollywood. The slick beautiful sheen of that once new glove. It is the same face, with the same sharp contours in cheek and nose, but different all the same, a shadow of its former self and dotted with two full blue eyes, like pools of sorrow and sharp with reptilian experience. Staring right at me, as if to say: this is a man who has seen things. 

He is relaxed, wearing a slouchy cabana button-down (Hugo Boss $76) unfurled at the top with torn, acid-wash jeans (Levi's $55), and bottomed off with Bruno Magli Taccola slip-ons ($395). His hair is long and pristine blonde, pulled back in some Eastern guru's ponytail, with wild ends poking out over his ears. 

"Doing The Wrestler was great, yeah," Mickey Rourke chuckles, his puckered hands absolutely manhandling his pastrami-on-rye, "It's like, Hollywood finally is letting me back in--opening up its arms actually. I did a few films people noticed, like Sin City, but this is the big one. And now," Rourke pauses for effect, "I'm ready to really do something different." 

That "something" is the much whispered about Fox Searchlight feature, The Actor, Once Wildly Famous in the 80's, Who, Upon Shunning Hollywood For Athletic Fame, Destroys His Face, Gets Drunk, Cleans UP, and Bursts Back with Oscar-Worthy Performance, written by some guy and tentatively slotted for Steven Spielberg's directorial service. But Mickey Rourke isn't phased by all the heavy star power and, well, that's the special thing about Rourke. He is a man who has made some powerful mistakes, mistakes he has had to live with. An Everyman who has been through hell and back. The scarred-but-humble anti-hero who has "really been put through the wringer, sometimes." And the result is an actor unflappable, ready to take on serious challenges in both his life and craft. 

Which is also why he is perfect for this new movie. It is impossible not to see a few parallels between Rourke and his newest role. Mickey has led a life similar to the walk-the-line protagonist of The Actor, Once Wildly Famous in the 80's, Who, Upon Shunning Hollywood For Athletic Fame, Destroys His Face, Gets Drunk, Cleans Up, and Bursts Back with Oscar-Worthy Performance. He was big in the 80's, with his famous catering service based in Hollywood, and in which all the famous Hollywood celebs ate at. He enjoys strippers, just like his film counterpart. He has blue eyes. He is white. And, like the protagonist who leaves acting to become an equestrian polo rider, left Hollywood to be a hot air balloon driver, thus leading industry experts to call him finished in California catering: kaput, no-more, zilched, officially out of the rat race. He also really enjoys cheese, a major part of his down-and-out character. 

Rourke gives another one of those husky chuckles, putting down his sandwich, "I hadn't thought of that. That's interesting. I guess there are a few similarities, here and there, between me and the character. But, you know, this is acting and, uh," There's another one of those big shot smiles, "I've had to do some serious research. Not to mention the hours and hours of make-up to create the effect my face was totally, not mostly, destroyed by hard living."

"There were some hard times, yeah," And Mickey dabs his mouth, taking my sandwich off its place and eating half of it in a yawning bite. He chews, "Women, drugs, booze, priests, guns, samurai swords, roller coasters, Ottonian silver dubloons, and some Dutch investors. Man, it was a crazy time, but I'm serious now." 

And when I leave Kat's I know it is true. Mickey has really turned this thing around, on the upswing of some Boethian wheel rotation, the man in black given a second chance. The word America echoes in my ear, over and over and over. He's got more movies coming out, too, at least four more come-backs in the coming years, before this American hero is through. I walk down Houston Street, shaking my head. Long live Mickey Rourke.