In the past decade, VH1 has been tasteless enough to bring back such forgettable celebrities as Flava Flave, Corey Feldman and Erik Estrada among others. This year, when it seemed like the down-and-out celebrities were finally becoming passé, three independent films proved that there was more to forgotten celebrities than reality shows and the increasingly relevant sex-tape scandals.

The three films, Gus Van Sant’s Milk, Mabrouk El Mechri’s JCVD and Darren Aronofsky’s soon to be released The Wrestler, represent the rebirth of three aging actors starring as tragic underdogs whose roles reflect their real lives. Not old enough to purchase alcohol, and because my parents kept a strict rule of no R-rated movies until age fourteen or fifteen (except for when Mom was away and Dad snuck The Matrix and Blade into the house), by the time I reached the age of the illustrious R-film, Mickey Rourke and Jean Claude Van Damme were well beyond their prime.

The two actors were merely blips on my radar, familiar names that accompanied unfamiliar faces. Sean Penn has remained relevant with critically acclaimed performances as Jimmy Markum in Clint Eastwood’s Mystic River and Paul Rivers in Alejandro González Iñárritu’s 21 Grams however, his conscious rejection of Hollywood and indulgent political stunts—going to post-Katrina New Orleans with a team of photographers to document his trip, sending a letter to Trey Parker and Matt Stone asking them not to release Team America for fear of Bush’s reelection and for making highly publicized visits to both Iraq and Iran—have put him in second place as the over-inflated, self-obsessed celebrity turned political activist. First place is reserved for Brangelina and their endless deluge of self-righteous publicity stunts.

In her piece on three films that deal with the mid-life crisis, Molly Haskell touches on André Bazin’s “doubling.” Bazin’s term describes the autobiographical elements of films in which the fictitious narrative and real life become one. As Haskell noted Astaire, Gabin and Murray all play roles that offer truth about their aging. This validates Haskell’s use of Bazin’s term; however, Penn, Van Damme and Rourke serve as more thorough examples of the narrative’s reflection of real life. In each film, the actors struggle with real-life issues through their characters. Issues associated with the midlife crisis—feeling lost, emasculated and depressed—have become significantly more prevalent in the current economic climate. According to a British Health Forum, “insecurity at work and the changing role of men add to the uncertainty many feel during this time of transition.” With the economy in recession, men face a job market where no one is safe. The typically male role of the breadwinner is being threatened, leaving men more vulnerable to the emotional effects of the mid-life crisis. This context may be one of the leading forces behind the recent surge of forgotten actors making their comeback. These characters are the products of the male-dominated film industry’s subconscious effort to regain power.

Though Sean Penn’s performance is the least revelatory, there are traces of Sean Penn in Harvey Milk. Gus Van Sant’s Milk is the biography of the first openly gay man elected to public office in San Francisco. Aside from being a critical success, Milk just might be Sean Penn’s first sensible political statement in years—and probably the only one for years to come. Penn plays a gay man who struggles against the persecution and misrepresentation of homosexuals in San Francisco and the United States. Early in the film, Milk admits to his newfound lover Scott Smith (James Franco) that, “He’s forty years old and [he] hasn’t done a thing [he’s] proud of.” Seeking change, he begins an uphill battle for gay rights. At first Milk is written off as just another gay man, but his undying will to hack away at the homophobia of American politics leads to his success. Sean Penn has been on a similar crusade to promote his wildly liberal political views. Like Milk, he has been criticized, but it does not stop him. Penn lives vicariously through Milk, who shares his passionate desire to overthrow conservative U.S. politics but, unlike Penn, Milk triumphs.

Jean Claude Van Damme’s role in JCVD is one that more accurately reflects Bazin’s “doubling.” During the eighties and nineties, Van Damme was reputed as the “Muscles from Brussels.” In the past decade, the kickboxing star who once worked with John Woo and Roland Emmerich sank to the three-dollar discount bin. JCVD, written and directed by Mabrouk El Mechri, is a fictionalized tale of Van Damme, playing himself as just what he is—or rather was—an obsolete action star. Fired from a movie shoot, involved in a custody battle for his daughter and low on funds, Van Damme returns to Brussels only to be taken hostage in a bank robbery. Crowds gather in support of the hometown hero, even though they believe that in his fall from the silver screen he has taken to robbing banks. Even his own mother believes that he is implicated. Recent interviews with Van Damme indicate that he has not completely surrendered his past glory, but the truth in his performance betrays his seemingly high spirits; his former muscle has given way to uncertainty. In the film’s most notable scene, Van Damme literally rises above the set and speaks directly to the camera in a monologue that transcends the fictitious narrative: “When you're 13 you believe in your dream. Well, it came true for me. But I still ask myself today what have I done on this earth?” This is the real Van Damme, admitting his inadequacy in a self-evaluation that echoes Harvey Milk’s assessment of his life accomplishments.

Though Darren Aronofsky’s The Wrestler is not a film literally about the fallen Mickey Rourke, David Ansen of Newsweek describes Rourke’s performance as, “a harmonic convergence of player and part that happens once in a blue moon.” Rourke, once revered for his subtle charm and good looks as Boogie in Barry Levinson’s Diner and Teddy Lewis in Lawrence Kasdan’s Body Heat, retired from acting in the nineties and entered the world of professional boxing. His brutal boxing career transformed his into a battered piece of flesh-toned plastic and his acting career became no more than a memory. In The Wrestler, Rourke plays Randy “The Ram” Robinson, a professional wrestler in poor health. His former fame has deteriorated to the less glorious and far less lucrative hardcore wrestling circuit that thrives on exhibitions in high school gymnasiums. In the film, Rourke’s beaten body makes a comeback that mirrors his return from the brutal world of professional boxing back to the box offices. Rourke’s performance earned him fanatical praise from critics and a nomination at the Independent Spirit Awards for “Best Male Lead.” Rourke made minor appearances in recent films (Sin City, Domino, Man On Fire), but The Wrestler is his neon-pleather laden leap off the turnbuckle and back into the ring of the professional actor.