‘The Wrestler’: Busan Review

Dir: Iqbal H Chowdhury. Bangladesh/Canada. 2023. 92mins

Iqbal H Cowdury’s first feature The Wrestler may share its title with Darren Aronofsky’s gruelling 2009 sports drama, but its depiction of one-on-one combat and the metaphysical manner in which it grapples with the theme of mortality are far removed from the unabashed rock ‘n’ roll tragedy of its namesake. Set around the Bay of Bengal, the film features a form of wrestling that is unique to Bangladesh and embodies Chowdury’s measured storytelling sensibility: Boli khela requires competitors to precisely employ such techniques as clinching, joint locking and pinning holds if they are to triumph.

It’s a style of wrestling that demands as much patience from spectators as it does of participants since even the most intense showdown can seem achingly slow.

It’s a style of wrestling that demands as much patience from spectators as it does of participants since even the most intense showdown can seem achingly slow. Indeed, when an off-screen match commentator in The Wrestler declares, “We have a thriller!”, it’s hard not to feel that he is getting over-excited. If this enigmatic film does not entirely reward the necessary patience, it certainly offers a wilfully esoteric meditation on the otherworldly nature of coastal existence.

The Wrestler is one of two features from Bangladesh selected for Busan, along with Biplob Sarkar’s coming-of-age drama The Stranger. Following its world premiere in the New Currents strand, The Wrestler is the type of regional portrait that will be largely seen in the festival arena, where its perplexing evocation of local myths will simultaneously baffle and perhaps beguile. 

The eponymous wrestler here is very much the aspiring kind: Moju (Nasir Uddin Khan) is an ageing fisherman who has resolved to challenge local champion Dofor (AKM Itmam), much to the amusement of the community. Moju is not selling enough fish to afford the food needed to bulk up for the bout, but nonetheless trains every day with the beach serving as his gym. His son Shafu (Angel Noor) and daughter-in-law Rashu (Priyam Archi) are concerned that he stands no chance against the burly Dofor and try to stop him from going through with the match – to no avail.

One might expect that match to be the culmination of the drama, but it actually provides the film’s centrepiece, complete with traditional folk performances. Its fateful outcome has powerful reverberations ranging from feverish feelings of guilt to the possible supernatural intervention of the Indian Ocean which Shafu’s best friend Milon (Tahadil Ahmed) fearfully describes as “a monster”.

Now based in Toronto, Chowdhury grew up in a coastal area, and is thus innately attuned to the beliefs, culture and rhythms of this isolated place. Realising that it may take a while for viewers to become assimilated, he initially presents sports movie tropes in a realist fashion: underdog and champion are introduced against the backdrop of a remote environment, while Moju’s solitary training regime is contrasted with Dofur’s sessions with awed students who hang on his every word (“If you know the technique, you can knock out an elephant.”)

Yet motivation is mysteriously obfuscated: speculation as to Moju’s rationale for challenging Dofur is limited to Shafu’s assumption that his father has been undergoing mental decline since a fainting incident. There is, however, a pervading sense of the uncanny. Rakat Zami’s atmospheric sound design, Ranadas Badsha’s eerily sparse score and the transfixed manner in which Moju stares out at the crashing sea strongly imply that mystical forces are afoot.

As in Phuttiphong Aroonpheng’s similarly ambiguous coastal fable Manta Ray (2018), cryptic mystical elements are steadily incorporated with plenty of room left for interpretation. Symbolism abounds with fish and turtles evidently significant in what becomes a tantalising mix of elements. Much like a rigorously tactical wrestler executing a finishing move, Cowdury’s late pivot to full blown phantasmagoria is seamless. This is due to the gradual deepening of the film’s earthy colour scheme as events become increasingly surrealistic and versatile lensing by Tuhin Tamijul makes effective use of natural light and day-for-night cinematography.

The Wrestler is rather inscrutable yet those who are left puzzled as to its meaning should still find themselves in thrall to its glimpse of life in a village where young people while away their evenings by watching flickering VHS copies of movies in a tea shop. If stilted line readings from a mostly non-professional cast point to Cowdury’s relative inexperience in coaxing performances, they also add to his film’s particular blend of regional authenticity and bewitching atmospherics.