With The Iron Claw, Zac Efron is finally the main event

In his new movie The Iron Claw, Zac Efron, the sinewy golden boy of High School Musical and Baywatch, looks like a boulder. His bulky physique, the result of a “shocking” bodily transformation that hopefully won’t trigger insomnia and depression, like last time, is imposing. But his beefy frame is as much a part of his performance as his dropkick, reflecting the immovable object that must absorb an ungodly amount of pain without showing it. How much punishment one can withstand is essential to becoming a pro wrestler. In Iron Claw, Efron absorbs it all.

Efron plays Kevin Von Erich, the only surviving member of Texas’ infamous “cursed” wrestling family, the Von Erichs. It’s a harrowing true story. Coached by their taskmaster father, Fritz (Holt McCallany), the brothers showed great promise in his local promotion, World Class Championship Wrestling, but national success eluded them. Only one of the brothers, Kerry (Jeremy Allen White), ever found success in the WWE (née WWF), and it was short-lived and came after a life-changing injury that he went to great pains, literally, to disguise. The Von Erichs were always on the cusp of greatness before succumbing to the ills that plague pro wrestlers: drug abuse, injury, and death. All except Kevin, who stands in his brothers’ corner holding out a hand for a tag and keeping a smile on his face for the fans.

“[The real Kevin Von Erich] said he appreciated that kind of inability to express his emotion or what he’s going through to his father—really to anybody—about what was going on in the ring,” Efron said at a recent screening of the film, “about how demanding it was, about how it was taking its toll.” That stoicism is essential to Efron’s work here, weaponizing his boundless charisma and marquee looks to become the film’s empathetic backbone.

Efron is as electric as Kevin, bringing into focus the control and emotion he carries as an actor. He radiates love and sorrow as effortlessly as he suplexes Ric Flair. It’s the best performance of his career, bringing together his incredible physicality, unrelenting work ethic, and God-given magnetism. But his stillness in the face of tragedy and his ability to keep those feelings just below the surface make the performance a winner. As the swollen Von Erich, Efron looks like a bowling ball. Yet, in the ring, he moves with grace and fluidity. That dichotomy is the film’s greatest asset and Kevin’s only defense from his father, Fritz.

Borne out of fear of the patriarch, Kevin suppresses the unrelenting grief that Fritz refuses to acknowledge. Some kids have a father; others have a dad. The Von Erichs had a drill sergeant. When Fritz asks his youngest son, Mike (Stanley Simon), “Have you given any thought to your future,” he means, when are you getting in the ring with your brothers and risking your life? Mike is not a natural athlete like his brothers and isn’t cut out for life between the ropes. Nevertheless, Fritz doesn’t face opposition from the boys, so Kevin asks his mother, Dottie (Maura Tierney), to intervene. He approaches her slowly, framed in the threshold of her bedroom, shrinking without moving as she overtakes the frame, and makes a somber plea: Ask Dad to go easy on Mike. Tierney responds in the negative, outmatching his fear with icy resolve, showing the person he must become to survive this family.

Efron plays this differently than his castmates. His pain is present even when his back is to the camera, apparent whether he’s whipping back and forth between the ropes or carrying his brother’s corpse in his arms. The actor’s deepest feelings are always present. When he enters the ring, we see Efron explode with physicality and also play with what the audience is seeing, like a wrestler would. The film’s first main event fight pits Kevin against legendary heel Harley Race (Kevin Anton). It’s the biggest opportunity of Kevin’s career: An NWA title shot. Director Sean Durkin stays on Efron throughout the match, clinging to his shoulder as Race takes early advantage of Kevin.

The masterstroke of the scene is Efron’s ability to play the audience like a real wrestler does every night: Hiding genuine pain to convince the audience he’s in fake pain. It’s the tension of wrestling. The audience knows it’s predetermined, but how do we know when someone is actually hurt? At one point, Race drops Kevin on the concrete outside the ring. After a whole bout taking hits, this one feels different, or does it? Shot in tight profile, Durkin captures Efron’s attempts to collect himself as the ref counts to 10, slowing the background. In those moments, as Efron struggles to regain his breath, it’s hard to tell if Kevin, the performer, is injured or if Kevin, the pro wrestler in a pre-determined wrestling match, is.

Afterward, while Kevin nurses his very real injury in the locker room, his father chews him out for taking too long to get up. The next title shot is going to his brother. Efron’s dejection and acceptance make the tragedy even more heartbreaking. He takes the order with an acknowledged “yes, sir” and buries the shame deep inside.

Efron’s role requires him to utilize that acceptance of disappointment and regret repeatedly. About an hour into the film, his brothers succumb to tragedies in quick succession. Each time, it’s Efron’s job to react for the family as Fritz refuses to let anyone cry, while Dottie represses her grief in church. As death takes over the movie, Durkin tracks Kevin’s emotional journey, and with each death, he gets closer to letting it all out. The movie closes with Kevin, years later, quietly selling WCCW to another promoter and living a simple life with his wife and children. But throughout the film and in its ending, all that grief can be felt on Efron’s shoulders. It’s as visceral as those shots of Efron bouncing off the ropes, picking up speed as he whips from one side to the other. Efron carries it, movie and all.