Mickey Rourke has butchered his face but once in a while, the man does speak some sense:
“[My therapist] saved my f*cking life and my career. I don’t care what Tom Cruise says about therapy. F*ck him. Pick on Poor Brooke Shields. People need medicine and they need therapists. Let the Scientologists go f*cking live on a planet of their own.”
Mickey found a moment of clarity in his fuddled brain and he chose to use it on the GMD - Praise Thetan, ah-Xenu.
Can’t help but be a little sad though.
Was it the boxing? Or the drugs? And the drinking? Or all of the above? Like any child of the 80s, I loved Mickey Rourke. I loved him for 9 ½ weeks. For that scene at the very end, when he’s finally ready to commit to her, and he tells her, his voice breaking, what he should have told her a long time ago, and she does the right thing by leaving anyway…
Definitely in my top 10.
So while he might not be much to look at now…for me, Mickey will always be John. And if you haven’t seen, please do. You won’t be sorry.