Howard Hawks famously said, "A good movie is three good scenes and no bad scenes." It's tempting to wonder what Hawks would think of Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler, which possesses more than three good scenes but more than one that border on bad.

Universally hailed as Mickey Rourke's comeback (even though the same was said of his 2005 Sin City role), the story centers on Randy "The Ram" Robinson (Rourke). A clever title sequence informs us that he has fallen from the grace of his days as one of the world's most famous professional wrestlers. And by "professional wrestlers," I mean the kind that fix fights, punch lightly and construct the match solely for the audience's entertainment.

We gather a better sense of Randy's predicament when he comes home one night to discover that he's been locked out of his trailer for not paying his rent. His love life consists of hitting on "Cassidy" (Marisa Tomei), his favorite stripper. His daughter (Evan Rachel Wood) detests him because he ignored her during her childhood. Some of his best friends are the tweens who play football on his neighborhood street.

Aronofsky's direction and Robert Siegel's script work together nicely; Siegel peppers the film with some impressionable dialogue (one where Randy and Cassidy discuss how Kurt Cobain ruined good music is especially memorable), and Aronofsky's gritty, hand-held style viscerally encapsulates the brutality of Randy's battles. One duel including thumbtacks and barbed wire will leave many pleasantly nauseated.

What holds The Wrestler back, of course, is those near-bad scenes, all of which involve Randy's daughter. There is a poignant plot point where they connect on the beach, but the two moments which surround that, both featuring Wood wearing a dejected face and spouting hackneyed lines a la "You never remembered my birthday!" and "What do you want from me?" feel too simplistic and familiar to resonate.

Dry exchanges such as that could ruin a film, but The Wrestler is buoyed by its humanity and the perfection of Rourke's performance. Despite his flaws-having been a bad father, a cocaine habit-we fall in love with Randy for the positive and hopeful attitude he presents to those surrounding him.

An early moment where he play-wrestles with children who idolize him is moving in its goodwill, and watching him encourage his opponents is peculiarly touching. With the erratic nature of Rourke's popularity, he'll probably have another comeback in three or four years, but if it's in a performance as strong as this, we'll enthusiastically welcome him.