Chokeslam wrestles with a too-tall tale

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      Starring Amanda Crew. Rated PG

      As she has shown in the HBO series Silicon Valley and movies like Sex Drive, Langley-born Amanda Crew has natural comic abilities and also provides an excellent, common sense foil to personalities goofier than her own. She goes for something bigger and broader in Chokeslam, but the movie’s too small for her talents.

      Some terrific films can have big ambitions with tiny budgets. (Moonlight and Napoleon Dynamite were made with this kind of money.) But some viewers will feel trapped by claustrophobia haunting the main characters in this miniature tale, shot in a Regina needlessly passing for a nowhere American burg. Events centre on Yank TV veteran Chris Marquette as Corey Swanson, a 28-year-old nebbish working at a deli counter and still living with his stern mom (Gwynyth Walsh). Time has stood still for him since the departure of his teenage paramour, so the upcoming high-school reunion is a big deal, bringing the return of Crew’s Sheena DeWilde, a tacky pro wrestler currently on the skids for bad behaviour.

      Also failing to live up to glory-days potential is a grungy hustler played by Michael Eklund, who manages to make being too old for the part work for him. These two losers bond before the 10-year reunion, which Corey hopes will restore his lost love, who towers above him when they’re finally seen together. (In real life, Crew is only two inches taller than Marquette.) When the evening unfolds, though, her presence is plagued by both anger issues and a slick manager/boyfriend (Alberta-born Niall Matter) who barely notices Corey is there.

      Despite the presence of old-timers like Mick Foley and the odd tossed-away ring scene, the movie doesn’t make much of its wrestling milieu. Writer Jason Long and director Robert Cuffley, who worked together on such almost-there projects as Turning Paige and Walk All Over Me, keep their mildly amusing focus on the Corey/Sheena thing. But it’s never really clear why we should root for them, together or apart—except that they are the lead characters in a pratfall-happy, coincidence-packed rom-com, and that’s what those kinds of people are supposed to do.

      In fact, no one here does more or less than what’s expected of them. And what’s that good for, exactly?

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