A stigma still looms over men weeping on screen. Tears are associated with weakness, crying something “little girls” do, vulnerability only hinted at rather than expressed freely. The Iron Claw is looking to crack open these outdated notions. In this moving, true-life drama, the tightknit Von Erich brothers are ruled by the steely fist of their father Fritz, played by Holt McCallany, who dictates the shape of their lives as he encourages them to fulfil his own failed dream of becoming the National Wrestling Alliance’s world heavyweight champ.
We meet the siblings in 1980s Texas: eldest Kevin (a frighteningly bulked up Zac Efron), Olympic hopeful Kerry (Jeremy Allen White), kind-hearted David (Harris Dickinson) and sensitive musician Mike (Stanley Simons). They are on the brink of greatness, finely tuned wrestling machines sporting tiny vests and questionable haircuts, dutifully following their father’s orders and society’s expectations of what makes a man. And that means not crying – ever. So when tragedy strikes, Fritz forbids his sons from shedding any tears. They comply until, one by one, each starts to unravel, suffocating under the weight of repression.
Often, male actors are only allowed to shed a single tear to communicate how devastated they’re feeling. In the 1989 civil war drama Glory, runaway slave turned soldier Denzel Washington is brutally flogged in public. Just one solitary tear rolls down his otherwise grimly stoic face, to signal his suffering, rage and humiliation.
Tears can flow more freely, though, if the character’s family is threatened or someone close dies. When Russell Crowe comes across the corpses of his wife and son in the 2000 epic Gladiator, he convulses into a weary heap, snot dripping down his chin. In the 1982 action thriller First Blood, still haunted by the death of his friends and comrades, Vietnam veteran Sylvester Stallone breaks down.
Tears can also follow a feeling of failure. In 2011’s sex addiction drama Shame, Michael Fassbender plays a man obsessed with porn and sex workers, whose life is turned upside down when his sister, played by Carey Mulligan, comes to stay. After she tries to kill herself he visits her in hospital. Seconds later, we see him walking alone as his face crumples and he starts to sob in a moment of horrified self-awareness, as the shame of his compulsions engulfs him.
In comedies, prolonged bouts of crying are usually played for laughs, with the phrase “crying like a little girl” – or “little bitch” as Will Ferrell’s gobby stepdaughter calls him in 2015’s Daddy’s Home – bandied around. In drama, meanwhile, crying can indicate mental instability. Troubled clown Joaquin Phoenix, in 2019’s Joker, tries to force a smile while his makeup gets smudged by a forlorn tear.
The Iron Claw ticks many of these boxes, and then some. As the tragedy unfolds, it’s liberating to see how director Sean Durkin is seeking out a more enlightened view of masculinity within the confines of that most masculine of movie genres: the sports film. While the story is shocking and at times bleak, there are moments of levity, even joy. The rousing bouts are so visceral, you can feel every body slam. The sense of camaraderie between the brothers, even as Fritz tries to pit them against each other, is touching. Most of all, the attention to detail – the Iron Claw “look”, with its shiny spandex shorts, shaggy male fringes and colourful robes – is a treat.
Outside the ring, there’s an awareness of how role models are formed and how important it is for younger generations to see that it’s OK for boys to cry: the capacity to feel, to be vulnerable, is what makes a real man. Male leads who face up to their emotions through tears are still a rarity in cinema – but when it happens it can mark an immensely powerful moment of growth. In the stirring 1997 drama Good Will Hunting, maths genius Matt Damon collapses in his therapist Robin Williams’ arms after cataloguing the abuse he suffered as a child at the hands of his sadistic foster father. “It’s not your fault,” Williams quietly repeats. Damon spends most of the film full of macho bravado and initially shrugs off Williams’ reassurances – until he starts crying, finally accepting the full horror of the trauma he’s gone through.
Perhaps the most radical example of such a U-turn comes in Everything Everywhere All at Once. As the fate of the multiverse hangs in the balance in this mindbending sci-fi adventure from 2022, gentle Ke Huy Quan tearfully counsels everyone around him to stop fighting and “be kind”. Compassion and empathy, rather than violence and aggression, are to be the new foundations of manhood.
Catharsis comes eventually in The Iron Claw but at a great cost. The message is clear: that you can break patterns ingrained through generations. If tears flow freely enough, they can form an ocean big enough to drown out toxic masculinity and wipe it from society for ever.
• The Iron Claw is released in UK cinemas on 9 February
