Professional wrestling and Hollywood have always had a somewhat complicated relationship. The sport (or, if you prefer, “sports entertainment”) thrives on larger-than-life personalities and dramatic stakes that play out in front of a roaring crowd; as someone who was seated in the 7th row when Bryan Danielson captured the AEW World Championship from Swerve Strickland in front of more than 50,000 fans at Wembley Stadium last year, believe me when I say there are few things that can replicate that type of energy and excitement.
But when Hollywood tries to capture that same exuberance, it often gets tangled up in either condescension or exaggeration, flattening out what makes wrestling so compelling in the first place. Ash Avildsen’s Queen of the Ring manages to avoid most of those pitfalls, presenting a hard-hitting, character-driven drama that takes its subject seriously while also letting the spectacle shine.
Emily Bett Rickards, best known for her role as Arrow‘s Felicity Smoak, plays wrestling trailblazer Mildred Burke, charting her path from diner waitress to national stardom, where she reigned at the top of women’s wrestling for two decades. Rickards embodies the industry legend with a mix of steely determination — Mille doesn’t take shit from anyone, least of all the powerful men trying to control her life — and easy, affable charm. It’s not just that Rickards looks the part (though her physical transformation is admittedly impressive), it’s that she moves with the confidence of someone who understands precisely what it means to command a ring, and a crowd.
The matches, crucially, don’t feel staged in that overly choreographed manner that plagues so many wrestling movies. The credit for that goes to both Rickards’ commitment (she reportedly trained with former WWE stars Al Snow and Doug Basham) and the presence of several real-life wrestlers in supporting roles, particularly Kailey Farmer (better known to AEW fans as Kamille) as Burke’s toughest in-ring opponent, June Byers. The final showdown between the two is intense and personal, capturing the spirit of a fight where more than just a title is on the line.
Queen of the Ring also finds an ace in Francesca Eastwood as Mae Young, another legendary star universally beloved for her work during WWE’s “Attitude Era,” where she appeared in some of the promotion’s most outrageous and controversial segments despite being in her late seventies. Eastwood displays a swagger that instantly sells her as the kind of woman who could thrive in the ruthless world of early wrestling. Mae doesn’t get as much screen time as Burke, but every time Eastwood shows up, she brings a jolt of energy that makes you wish there was a whole movie about her. Toni Rossall (better know as current AEW Women’s World Champion, “Timeless” Toni Storm) is another standout as Clara Mortensen, Burke’s first real challenge on the road to legitimacy.
On the dramatic side, Josh Lucas makes for a convincingly slimy Billy Wolfe, Burke’s trainer-turned-husband-turned-career roadblock. It’s a performance that never tries to soften the edges of a man who, by all accounts, was precisely as manipulative and power-hungry as his portrayal here. Walton Goggins, meanwhile, adds some much-needed balance as a rival promoter who actually sees Burke’s potential beyond what Billy allows. There’s an unspoken camaraderie between his character and Burke — both outsiders in different ways — that helps ground the story when it occasionally threatens to become too bogged down in wrestling politics.
If there’s a major weakness in Queen of the Ring, it’s in the way the film handles the mechanics of wrestling itself. There’s a fine line between making something accessible for non-fans and oversimplifying the details to the point of awkwardness, and Avildsen’s script stumbles into the latter more often than it should. Early scenes introduce terms like “babyface” and “heel” in a way that feels stilted and unnatural, as if the characters are pausing to explain things to the audience rather than talking amongst each other. It’s not a dealbreaker, but it does create moments where the immersion slips; wrestling is an industry built on insider knowledge, and the best wrestling films (eg. 2023’s The Iron Claw) find a way to make that knowledge feel lived-in rather than textbook.
Still, when the movie clicks, it really clicks. The cinematography captures the grit of wrestling’s carnival days, and the production design does a convincing job of recreating an era when the sport was still fighting for legitimacy. More than that, though, Queen of the Ring succeeds in making Mildred Burke feel like the icon she was; Burke was the first million-dollar female athlete, and a significant portion of the population have probably never heard her name. Too often, biopics about groundbreaking women reduce their subjects to symbols of empowerment without letting them be fully realized people, but here, Burke is allowed to be driven, flawed, relentless, and occasionally reckless. She’s not just fighting for the future of women’s wrestling, she’s fighting for herself, her son, and the career she refuses to let anyone take away from her. Much like in wrestling itself, the wins and losses are only part of the story. It’s the fight that matters, and in that regard, Queen of the Ring earns its place in the squared circle.
For more on Queen of the Ring, check out our interview with Francesca Eastwood.