The Iron Claw

There were golden gods in Texas once. In the 1980s, the Von Erich brothers were the smiling, hard-hitting, morally upright heroes of the wrestling ring. Effortlessly charismatic David Von Erich (Dickinson), the NWA Worlds Heavyweight champion; Michael (Simons), the sensitive soul who could hit as hard as anyone; Kerry (White), the Olympic-level athlete who jumped into the ring with sure footing; and big brother Kevin (Efron), wrestling without boots, guarding his brothers while teaching them how to roughhouse.

As a wrestling fan, writer/director Sean Durkin (Martha Marcy May Marlene, The Nest) grew up watching the Von Erichs as stars of the weekly World Class Championship Wrestling broadcasts from Dallas' legendary Sportatorium. That fandom is a pivotal element of what makes The Iron Claw, his bio-drama of the brothers who brought shaggy-haired rock star energy to the squared circle, such a smash.

But to all gods come their Götterdämmerung, and the Von Erichs are famous for the Von Erich curse, the muttered shadow that hung over their heads and plucked them away, one by one. So this is the story of David, snatched away as he was inches away from true greatness; of Michael, poor, fragile Michael, who should never have been in the ring in the first place; of Kerry, hollowed out and taken piece by piece; and of Kev, the big brother left behind and emotionally incapable of dealing with all of this trauma.

It is not, it must be noted, the story of Chris Von Erich, the youngest brother, whose fate was so bleak and depressing that it would risk shoving the story into dark farce. Instead, The Iron Claw is an old-fashioned manly tearjerker, of the kind that makes sense for the Von Erichs – guys who would call themselves country boys and were unafraid of displays of physical affection. Hey, if you'll grapple with your brothers in the barn in your underoos, you won't flinch at a hug. But when you've got a father like martinet Fritz Von Erich (a gravelly and growling McCallany) playing favorites, all with the aim of bringing home the belt that eluded him and his signature, devastating finishing move, the titular iron claw, there will always be limits to who you can be. Add in the rigors of the road, drugs, the physical and mental costs of wrestling in the 1980s, and it's almost more shocking that anyone survived.

The family drama is told from Kevin's viewpoint as his world crumbles around him, but it is indeed a family tragedy, as highlighted in one small but memorable conversation between a brilliantly brittle Maura Tierney as mother Doris and Lily James as Kev's wife, Pam. It's a few words about a dress, but it's one of many instances that truly bring the audience together. (There's a reveal that brings a gasp at every screening I've attended, much as the penultimate scene brings audible sobs.)

The deep emotional success of The Iron Claw all relies on a remarkable cast – most especially the four brothers, at ease with each other but fatally at odds with themselves. Efron especially avoids all the pitfalls of making Kevin either an emotionally stunted man-child or unconvincingly in touch with his feelings. Instead, he's contending with those feelings, and his near-catatonic silences come from Efron's deep understanding of a certain kind of stoicism.

But Durkin also understands pro wrestling, and The Iron Claw will resonate with grapple fans as much as it does with cinephiles. The brothers all suitably bulked up and cut weight for the roles, and it makes a real difference that Durkin has them not simply do their own stunts, but wrestle full matches. The sweat and bruises are real, but so is the understanding of what drives someone to smash their body into the ring. There's a conversation between Pam and Kev in which he earnestly explains what makes a champion in a "fake" sport, and it's almost word for word conversations I have had with wrestlers. It's that respect for the men, for their art, and their pain, that means The Iron Claw lands so perfectly.