Film Review: “Queen of the Ring” — A Spotlight on the Early Ladies of Wrestling
By Sarah Osman
With its fabulous ’50s costumes and visceral wrestling scenes, Queen of the Ring is a blast from the past.
Queen of the Ring, directed by Ash Avildsen. Screening at AMC Boston Common 19, AMC Causeway 13, and AMC South Bay Center 12.

Emily Bett Rickards in Queen of the Ring. Photo: Sumerian Pictures
Wrestlers don’t just wrestle; they’re actors, acrobats, dancers — the pugilist skill set goes far beyond what we may initially think. And, even after documentaries such as The Dark Side of the Ring and features like The Iron Claw, we still don’t know much about the lives of wrestlers outside the ring. This is especially true for the ladies of wrestling, those who forged the path for women to take on the role of professional wrestlers. An attempt to make up for the lacuna: Queen of the Ring, a biopic that pays homage to the trials and tribulations of pioneer wrestler Mildred Burke.
Based on Jeff Leen’s book The Queen of the Ring: Sex, Muscles, Diamonds, and the Making of an American Legend, the film focuses on Mildred, aka “the Kansas Cyclone,” aka “Millie” Burke. She started to wrestle to escape Kansas and to support her son as a single mother (this was a time when single mothers were treated like the bubonic plague). Burke begged “heel” wrestler Billy Wolfe to teach her the ropes, which he reluctantly does — only to realize that Burke is the real deal. The rest of the film dramatizes Burke’s rise to fame and the experiences of some of the other lady wrestlers who grappled alongside her, and documents what it was like for women to wrestle when it was illegal in most states.
Emily Bett Rickards stars as Burke, and the actress plays her as a spitfire, a woman who won’t put up with guff from anybody. Her Burke is fierce but, at the same time, vulnerable, especially when she has to navigate Wolfe’s controlling temperament. It is a captivating performance; without Rickards, the film would have fallen apart. Josh Lucas plays against her as the heavy, a brutal Wolfe who sinks into further depravity as the narrative moves along. Lucas holds his own against Rickards, though other performers struggle to keep pace, such as Tyler Posey, playing Wolfe’s son, who falls in love with Burke.
While Rickards is the undeniable star of the film, the supporting ladies are plenty enticing. Francesca Eastwood gives wrestler Mae Young a delightful streetwise charm, while Deborah Ann Woll is fascinating as “killer” Gladys Gillem, who gets one of the best entrances in the film. It’s unfortunate that some actual wrestlers in the cast, including Toni Rossall (“Timeless” Toni Storm), weren’t given more substantial roles. Just because Rossall is a wrestler in real life doesn’t mean she can’t act — she’s brilliant as the delusional Sunset Blvd-esque actress-who-happens-to-be-a-wrestler on All Elite Wrestling. Rossall deserved either a meatier role or an expanded part to showcase her talent.
Queen of the Ring is an inspiring film, but it falls into the traps that undermine many biopics. The film clearly follows the traditional narrative beats we’ve come to expect (and sometimes dread), including a triumphant ending that doesn’t feel like the best place to end the story. Characters like Gorgeous George (Adam Demos) and Jack Pfefer (Walton Goggins) are intriguing, but sidelined in favor of the drama between Burke and Wolfe. (Gorgeous George influenced the wrestlers of the ’80s, and Pfefer helped come up with strategies that transformed wrestling into an entertainment rather than a sport.) Writer/director Ash Avildsen says the film was originally meant to be a miniseries, so key chunks of the narrative ended up on the cutting room floor. That explains the film’s choppiness and why certain promising characters fell inexplicably by the wayside.
Still, Queen of the Ring is an exciting historical outing. With its fabulous ’50s costumes and visceral wrestling scenes, the film is a blast from the past. Watching it inspired me to hit the gym — channeling the no-nonsense attitude of Ms. Burke.
Sarah Mina Osman is based in Los Angeles. In addition to the Arts Fuse, her writing can be found in Huffington Post, Success Magazine, Matador Network, HelloGiggles, Business Insider, and WatchMojo. She has an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of North Carolina Wilmington and is working on her first novel. She has a deep appreciation for sloths and tacos. You can keep up with her on Instagram @SarahMinaOsman and at Bluesky @sarahminaosman.bsky.social.