The opening sequence of IRON CLAW grabs like, well, an iron claw. Shot in glorious black and white, it encapsulates the trajectory of the narrative that plays out during the rest of the film.

The Iron Claw alludes to a wrestling grapple invented by Fritz Von Erich, pioneer and patriarch mat combat commander, a lord of the ring who sired a band of brothers who turned the turnbuckle into a tabernacle of tackle, elevating wrestling into a big buck brute burlesque.

Their family story is a small piece of American history, but it digs up the bedrock of extreme misguided masculinity, an empire built upon the strong-arm showmanship, the exaggerated performance of success and strength that is wrestling’s blood sport circus.

Holt McCallany plays the fearsome Fritz, a sock ‘em dad, a guy who holds the patent on tough love parenting. He instils in his sons the glory of muscle, might and manhood, and of winning.

As eldest son, Kevin, Zac Efron delivers a career defining performance as the buffed and brawny acolyte, torn between adhering to the tyranny of his father and the emotional protection of his brothers. Physically, he reminds one of a blonde, bronzed Bruce Banner turned Hulk without green gamma ray hue.

Part family drama and part sports movie, THE IRON CLAW has overtones of a true Greek Tragedy, complete with ill fated quests and a fearful curse.

Writer director Sean Durkin delivers a hammer blow of a movie, a flying mare into family dynamics, pinning toxic principles to the mat.

Cinematographer Mátyás Erdély’s contribution is stupendous, beginning with the aforementioned opening sequence in luscious black and white to the colour choices that bring so many shades and contrasts to the narrative.

THE IRON CLAW grapples with tradition and ambition colliding with change and growth. It’s well worth coming to grips with.