The Iron Claw: “I used to be a brother.”

I’ve spent a lot of time recently pondering the relationship between ways of being that are, on the surface, coexisting. But, if we were to delve a little deeper, we would see that they are in fact, codependent. One cannot exist without the other. In The Iron Claw, we follow the Von Erich brothers, who have cultivated this unbreakable bond with one another that is bourn of abuse, both physically and emotionally. One might think their bond exists despite the abuse, but I argue that it exists because of it. But it didn’t have to. That is the true tragedy of The Iron Claw.

The film is really about trauma and the importance of family, in both building that trauma, and alleviating one’s pain and suffering. For me, one of the most beautiful aspects of the film, is the exploration of the relationship between the brothers. Their love and care for one another was really the only thing holding the movie together emotionally, outside of the persistent tragedy. To many, that bond was a catharsis to the pain they experienced as a family. Pain wrought on by the obsessive, emotionally distant, and abusive father that taught them to seek nothing else in life but his approval and love. But to me, that bond existed because of the pain, and they learnt to love through this pain. But before we get to that, let’s explain, without any spoilers, the plot of the movie.

The movie follows the Von Erich’s, a famous wrestling family that was recently inducted into the Wrestling Hall of Fame. Their father, fictionally known as Fritz, was a wrestler himself, who never quite managed to reach his goal of attaining a World Title. This goal, or rather, obsession, was then passed onto his four children, Kevin (Zac Efron), David (Harris Dickinson), Kerry (Jeremy Allen White), and finally, Mike (Stanley Simmons). While initially presenting itself as a typical biopic about a sports family and their successes, the film quite quickly establishes its true form.

“Ever since I was a child, people said my family was cursed. Mom tried to protect us with God. Pop tied to protect us with wrestling. He said if we were the toughest, strongest, nothing could ever hurt us. I believed it. We all did.” – Kevin

The oldest brother, Kevin, played masterfully by Zac Efron, establishes the two guiding principles of his family: God, and muscle. Yet, as the oldest brother, and second in command, Kevin is often required to fill the parental gaps left glaringly open. This is where the cracks of this family begin to show. These boys are built like brick houses. They are both explicitly and implicitly taught to train like their lives depend on it, because it does. Their wrestling careers are what puts food on the table for the family and this pressure to provide manifests in their unwavering work ethic that is done, not necessarily for themselves, but for their father. What unites them in these moments is clearly the relationship they’ve cultivated from years of training with one another.

We don’t quite get to see their upbringing, but we do get to see glimpses of they engage with one another. Kevin, who clearly is the most emotionally protective of the boys, begins the film by asking his mom to ask his father to “not be so hard on Mike”. She promptly dismisses him, stating that it’s between him and his father. In fact, we see this play out often in the film, where, whenever one of the brothers is suffering emotionally, and it’s brought up to their parents, they are promptly told to ‘discuss it amongst themselves’. At one point Fritz states plainly, “that’s what you have brothers for”. He has alleviated himself from all emotional responsibility and passed it on, entirely, to his children to figure it out. At a funeral, the boys are instructed not to cry and show no fear. They are taught to be ‘strong’ in their weakest moments, highlighting the inability of their father to see emotional maturity as a strength. Thus, cultivating in the boys, an unhealthy relationship with fundamental forms of human expression, such as crying.

Without much support from their mother either, the boys naturally build a strong and trusting emotional relationship between them. This often goes unspoken unless Kevin initiates the conversation. And this is where the tragedy of the film begins, as Kevin, who is clearly the most emotionally aware, is often given the responsibility of care. Of recognizing when something is wrong with his siblings and trying, but failing at times, to ‘fix’ it. Kevin, like the others, has not had a role model that could guide his temperament toward a softer, emotionally present figure. He had no blueprint, so in those moments, he could not quite find the right words or the right thing to do, because to him God and muscle were the ways out. This inner conflict of what he was feeling and what he had been told to do ate away at his psyche. He had to watch as his brothers, one after the other, were broken beyond repair.

The ending of the film, without giving too much away, offers us, and Kevin, a catharsis. We watch, as Kevin breaks down, crying for the first time in the film, as he watched his sons playing in the backyard. Like a dam that’s walls have been burst, his tears flow down his face as he reminisces of what his life could have and should have been. Symbolically breaking the cycle of toxicity in his family, Kevin learns to cry in front of his sons, and they accept him for it, because they cry too, and that’s okay.  But that’s not the only thesis of the film. I think it does importantly highlight what toxic masculinity does to the emotional wellbeing of men in our society. It highlights the plights of never being able to fully express oneself and perfectly illustrates the adage that “the patriarchy harms us all”.

But I think the main thesis of the film, and one which the director has pointed towards, is that family and the bonds between us are what we should strive for. Because in his pursuit of this title, Fritz Von Erich lost the respect and love of his children, literally and metaphorically. His obsession with material objects is ultimately what drove his family to their tragedy. Their family was not cursed. He was the curse. But the movie argues something a little deeper. Yes, it’s about family, and love, and care, but it’s also about the tragedy of watching one’s life whittle away because of that same family.

What makes this film tragic, is that in the moments of catharsis, the moments where they were there for each other, these boys caught a glimpse, ever so slightly, of the life they could have lived, had they been raised in an emotionally healthy home. A life which is not inundated with weights and training and beating on one another. Yet every time they get to look out of that window, they are violently brought back into their reality. I believe that is why everyone and their cat sobbed at the end of this film. Because the audience, with Eric, is seeing, for the first time, the life that he yearned for growing up and is giving to his children. A life he and his brothers could have had but didn’t. Now, alone, he gets to see it and they don’t. That is the tragedy of The Iron Claw.