TORONTO — Mickey Rourke's time has finally come. More than a quarter of a century after he catapulted into prominence in Barry Levinson's "Diner" and Francis Ford Coppola's "Rumble Fish," the man who never won an Oscar but pretty much retired the trophy for America's Craziest Living Actor might get that second act that few artists who self-destruct at an early age ever live to see.

A few years ago, he spent two hours at a crowded Hollywood eatery, virtually unnoticed. Here in Toronto, after getting raves for his tough-but-tender performance in Darren Aronofsky's "The Wrestler," Rourke is the center of attention again. The film was the big sale of the festival, going to Fox Searchlight for roughly $4 million after winning the Golden Lion in Venice recently.

Nearly back to his regular 190-pound fighting weight after gaining 35 pounds to play the part, wearing a blue pinstripe jacket with little blond ringlets in his hair, Rourke is hard to miss. As he sipped coffee in an upstairs lobby at the Four Seasons Hotel here, actors, producers, agents and wannabe screenwriters all stopped by, eager to offer hugs and congratulations or pass along hand-written notes, hoping to interest him in one new project or another.

Maybe this time Rourke can handle the spotlight. Earlier in his career, he took horrible parts, partied all night, spent years fruitlessly trying to revive his schoolboy boxing career and told anyone who would listen how much disdain he had for the art of acting. Although he's still as eccentric as ever — taking his favorite Chihuahua, Loki, whom he also calls "No. 1," with him nearly everywhere he goes — he says he's been in therapy for 13 years and can finally control the anger he had carried after surviving a turbulent and violent childhood.

In "The Wrestler," Rourke plays Randy (the Ram) Robinson, a beaten-down wrestler 20 years past his prime, his body scarred and gone to seed, unable to sustain any real relationships, least of all with his daughter, played by Evan Rachel Wood, who wants nothing to do with him. The part hit home.

"Let's put it this way, Randy the Ram was somebody 20 years ago, and so was Mickey Rourke," he told me. "When you used to be somebody and you aren't anybody anymore, you live in what my doctor calls a state of shame. You don't want to go out of the house. You hate just going to the store and having to stand in line, because inevitably someone will stare at you and say, 'Hey, didn't you used to be someone in the movies?' "

Rourke doesn't mince words: "I lost everything. My house, my wife, my credibility, my career."

So how did Rourke turn his life around?

Rourke finally found a therapist in Los Angeles — he simply refers to him as Steve — who helped him deal with his issues. "I started going to see him all the time, at first three times a week. He was great. Even when I didn't have the money, he kept seeing me. It was like he believed in me."

Even though it seemed at the time to be the most ruinous escapade of a career filled with ruinous escapades, Rourke firmly believes that by going back to boxing he actually regained his equilibrium.

Rourke ended up losing most of his fights, but he found a focus he never had had. "I started training the way I should, and I demanded a discipline of myself that I'd never had. And I've been able to use that ability to concentrate in my acting."

Rourke said that when he walked down the red carpet at the Venice Film Festival, he never felt happier. "It's really a nice feeling to be proud of the work you've done. Second chances are a great thing."