Mickey Rourke

Marv has few emotions to choose from in Sin City (2005), and Mickey Rourke makes them feel sufficient. Robert Rodriguez and Frank Miller build the film out of hard black-and-white images, and his forcefulness fits their exaggerated world. We cared about Marv because Rourke gave his feelings as much weight as his aggression, without pretending that he was respectable. That is Rourke at his most persuasive: giving us someone to watch when the film could so easily become a succession of violent effects.

The early attention came with Body Heat (1981) and Diner (1982). The leading-man years brought Angel Heart (1987) and Barfly (1987), with damaged and self-destructive men becoming a recurring part of his work. That mix of physical presence and vulnerability was already apparent, well before anyone could call his success a comeback. Later supporting work included The Bookie in Buffalo '66 (1998), an abrasive comedy we recommend for Christina Ricci and its uncomfortable family visit. Sin City brought him back to prominence.

Yet Marv also makes clear where our enthusiasm stops. Rourke works within the film's narrow emotional limits more successfully than Bruce Willis as Hartigan or Clive Owen as Dwight, though both fit its hard-boiled company. He does not have to act against the exaggeration to make the part work. The trouble is how often the film returns to punishment, until even its visual invention begins to wear thin. We would recommend it to noir enthusiasts, but not to anyone hoping the stylisation will make the cruelty harmless.

The Wrestler (2008) continued the return, casting him as Randy 'The Ram' Robinson and drawing on his ability to make worn-down men emotionally convincing. The resilience matters as much as the damage. Subsequent action parts in Iron Man 2 (2010) and The Expendables (2010) belong to the career too, but physical commitment alone is not why we keep watching him. For the vulnerability beneath the threatening exterior, make The Wrestler the next stop.