By Seth Freilich | Film | May 10, 2024
The Iron Claw is about a wrestling family, but it’s not a wrestling movie. It’s a real-life Shakespearean tragedy or, as Clayton Davis put it, it’s “the Manchester by the Sea of wrestling movies.” One of the key elements of both Greek and Shakespearean tragedies is the inevitability of the tragic outcome. While the protagonist’s own failings and poor decisions undoubtedly play a part in that result, the ending is often preordained by gods or supernatural forces. The true story presented in The Iron Claw feels like one of these literary tragedies, so much so that writer/director Sean Durkin left out a significant aspect of the story because it was too much tragedy, noting “[t]here was a repetition to it, and it was one more tragedy that the film couldn’t withstand.”
The movie doesn’t begin steeped in tragedy. It opens in brutality, with a brief prelude where a young Fritz Von Erich (Holt McCallany), in the prime of his own wrestling career, wins a ferocious match thanks to the use of his trademark move, the iron claw. This introduction establishes that even though professional wrestling is “scripted,” it is physically brutal. It also presages what becomes apparent as the film progresses — the preternatural force driving the Von Erich family’s fall is neither the fates nor petty gods, but this toxic family patriarch.
The film jumps forward to a point in time when Fritz’s two oldest sons are wrestling in the same National Wrestling Alliance (the NWA, but not that NWA, obviously) that Fritz tried, but failed, to seek a title in (this failing, from his point of view, was entirely the fault of others holding him down). His oldest son Kevin (Zac Efron) is being set up to make a title run with his younger brother David (Harris Dickinson) as his sometimes tag-team and ringmate. Over time, two more Von Erich brothers join in the ring. There’s Kerry (Jeremy Allen White), whose Olympic track hopes were dashed when the US boycotted the 1980 event, and youngest brother Mike (Stanley Simmons), who wants to be a musician but is forced into the ring instead.
If one were to come into this film knowing little or nothing about the Von Erich family, one might initially assume it’s a by-the-book sports film. While the movie loosely traces the Von Erichs’ bouts, The Iron Claw isn’t a wrestling movie (though it does have some fantastic wrestling scenes, as Andrew wrote about here). Instead, the film is about what Fritz’s singular vision to see his “family” name* reach the wrestling pinnacle winds up doing to his family. If you don’t know about their incredibly sad story, I recommend coming in blind, though the film still delivers emotional bodyslams even if you know where it is ultimately going.
*The movie touches on (though does not wholly delve into the background of) the fact that Von Erich is not their real name; it’s a stage name that Fritz (also not his real name) took at the start of his career.
That the movie works with and without viewer foresight is a credit to the filmmakers. That starts with Durkin’s script, which smartly nudges the factual truth when that suits a better story without undercutting the real-life emotional truth (and trauma) endured by this family. It does this leanly, leaving certain things unsaid in a way that allows Durkin’s camera and his cast to do the heavy lifting. The film’s pacing is slow in the early going but meticulous. It has some moments of joy, particularly when Kevin meets and eventually marries Pam (Lily James), their wedding being the film’s calm before the storm. As that joy falls under the crushing weight of what’s to come, the film’s overall intensity also ratchets up to the point that Durkin is right: it probably could not have withstood one more tragic event.
Speaking of Kevin, much of the press buildup to this film has been focused on Efron’s physicality (and, to a lesser extent, White’s). He is a physical beast in the film, with the very first sight of him intentionally highlighting how muscularly large he is here.* But Efron, carrying much of this film’s emotional weight, is more than muscle and jaw. In the earlier parts of the film, he’s our lens into this wrestling world** and the family dynamics. Early on, he repeatedly speaks of his family being cursed (later explicitly calling it “the curse of the Von Erichs”). As that curse continues to clothesline the family, Efron is also our window into that pain and ensuing damage, delivering the best dramatic performance of his career.
*My chicken-scratched notes from this moment read, “Efron is a fucking baby Hulk, Jesus!”
**On his first date with Pam, she questions his dream of getting a title belt, given the scripted nature of professional wrestling. Efron’s Kevin explains that the outcomes of an individual fight may be scripted. Still, a wrestler’s professional ascension is only scripted as such if his ability “and how the crowd responds” warrant that belt. This is maybe the best and most succinct explanation of the almost incongruous duality of the sport that I’ve ever heard.
Not to give short shrift to the other excellent performances, from Maura Tierney’s Dori (Fritz’s wife and the boys’ mother) to James and White, etc., the other key performance here is McCallany. His Fritz is the emotional antagonist of the film. The inevitability of this tragic story rests squarely and entirely on Fritz’s broad shoulders. Throughout the film, we see what a number he has done to his family and continues to do. He ranks the boys early on, noting that “the rankings can always change; everyone can work their way up or down.” Nice. (Sadly, it is one of his nicer moments, as he is at least connecting with his sons in the one way he knows how.) Whether he’s quietly commanding his grown sons not to cry, casually changing their in-ring stories to suit his own unachieved goals, or ignoring literal pleas for help, Fritz is the walking toxic masculinity that could easily be played to caricature. But McCallany’s performance never goes there — while you hate Fritz, you also understand and pity him.
As one of the brothers notes late in the film, Fritz Von Erich did not take care of these boys (and their deeply religious mother certainly did not help, once responding to Kevin’s complaints about Fritz being too harsh on a brother that “that’s between them”). Much like the family, the film could have drowned under the weight of the damage done. Instead, we end on an optimistic beat. Again, this is not a typical sports film, and it has few of the beats that come in such movies (although there is a brief training montage, and there are some successes achieved by the Von Erichs). However, the best sports films show us the glory of achievement and the perseverance of hope. And here, The Iron Claw elevates above the inevitability of many literary tragedies, similarly showing such hope. Whether or not there is a belt to be achieved in the ring is very much not the point, but whether or not one can shed the immense baggage and curse of their family, that’s the thing.
