Film Review – Queen of the Ring

Queen of the Ring
Queen of the Ring (2024) tells the story of Mildred Burke (Emily Bett Rickards), who helped usher in the popularity of women’s professional wrestling in the 1930s and into the 1950s. We first meet Mildred as a single mother, living in Kansas working as a waitress to make ends meet. However, things would change when she visited wrestling events as an audience member. The spectacle, physicality, and showmanship immediately drew her fascination. A fire was lit, guiding Mildred to being one of the most prominent faces in the sport and the world’s first million-dollar female athlete. A quick internet search tells me that she is a multiple wrestling hall of fame inductee, and facilitated the sport being internationally accepted.
It’s a fascinating story about a fascinating world. As some of you may or may not know, professional wrestling differs from other competitive sports. Many times, the outcomes of matches are pre-determined, wrestlers communicate with each other what moves to perform next, and storylines and character traits are molded much like a serialized television show or soap opera. This does not take away the athleticism and dedication it takes to be successful – the bumps, bruises, and injuries are very much real. But there is a level of entertainment here that stands apart from football, basketball, boxing, etc. That’s the challenge director Ash Avildsen faced with this production: trying to tell a traditional sports tale about an industry that defies most people’s perceptions of sports to begin with.

The results are mixed. Queen of the Ring looks great. Andrew Strahorn’s cinematography bathes the visuals in warm yellow, brown, and golden hues – the customary stylings of a period piece. The production design and art direction structures environments with nostalgic flair. From the carney circuits and carnival locales where Burke first got her start, to the glitzy hotels and arenas where she and other female wrestlers drew large crowds, every place we visit looks like it was conjured to look like an old photograph or newspaper clipping. As for the bouts themselves, the choreography and staging translate the intensity immensely. Whether they are worked out from the beginning or not, the performers (a combination of actors and real-life wrestlers) are dynamic inside the ring. They show us how pro wrestling is such a compelling event to watch – even to this day.
That said, the writing (Avildsen, Alston Ramsay) adapts Jeff Leen’s book as a standard, straightforward sports biopic. Mildred Burke is an integral part in the history of women’s sports, but the film about her feels too by the numbers. The narrative goes through the ups and downs of her life like a book report. We weave our way from her early days, working with manager/husband Billy Wolfe (Josh Lucas) to learn the ins and outs of being a wrestler, her rise to fame, to the struggles of getting female wrestling legalized throughout the country, to the notoriety and wealth eventually causing a riff in her marriage, it all unfolds in typical fashion. It culminates in a match designed as a “shoot,” where all the planning gets thrown out the window and the wrestlers go at it in a real-life fight. The notion of a shoot is meant to amplify the suspense, but the design of it on screen incorporates your typical underdog tropes: the overwhelming odds coupled with inspiring speeches, backed by an emotional score – it operates a little too mechanically.
Emily Bett Rickards meets the demands of the central role, emotionally and physically. In fact, the camera takes a few too many opportunities to show off Rickards’ sculpted biceps. As Burke, Rickards commits not only to the choreography in the ring but outside of it as well. She is tasked to carry the weight of the film on her shoulders, and for the most part she does just that. Sadly, everything else does not keep up with her. Josh Lucas is good as Billy Wolfe, even though his character is set up solely as a villain. Burke and Wolfe’s relationship, as well as the dynamic they share with their children, plays out melodramatically. It’s a cycle of abuse, compromise, betrayal, temptation, and greed. The family dysfunction takes away from the backstories of the other wrestlers, who stood shoulder to shoulder with Burke as women’s pro wrestling started to gain traction. We get a closing montage where each performer is paired with their real-life counterpart. Seeing each one listed made me realize how we didn’t get to learn anything about them.

My reaction to Queen of the Ring remains positive, based mostly on the textures. The costuming, make up, and hairstyling are sleek and glamorous. I was drawn to the theater marquees and their sparkling lights, advertising the next big match up like a movie premiere. The cheering crowds that only grew in number as Burke and her cohorts became more famous. The old-style hotel rooms and offices, the outdoor carnivals with their colorful banners, the poolside photo shoots, the automobiles, press conferences, etc. At one point, a match takes place with the wrestlers silhouetted against bright lights, flooding the crowd in shadows and creating an otherworldly effect. Of course, it’s very likely that none of this depicts what the mid 20th century actually looked like, but that’s fine. It’s a heightened reality made to reflect the themes, thoughts, and issues of the time.
For a movie about a trailblazing pioneer, Queen of the Ring comes off as pretty tame. It follows a well-worn path without deviating from the blueprint. It doesn’t necessarily do anything so egregious that it’s unwatchable, but it also doesn’t give the kind of verve and creativity its subject deserves. As a sports biopic, it’s fine. But don’t we want something more than just “fine?” This is an ordinary picture about an extraordinary person.