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How to save British wrestling
Before we were recording the podcast last week, I was chatting to our guest host about various things – including the need for pro-wrestling to improve its presentation if it’s going to find a bigger and better audience.
There’s loads of theories about what wrestling should be and why it doesn’t seem to grow an viewership these days. Should it be pitched more at adults or kids? Should it be more like straight sports, or less? Should it be following in the footsteps of the UFC, or steering clear of the MMA-like combat world?
But last week it struck me. A way of getting wrestling back onto British telly that viewers old and new would appreciate. That capitalises on the current boom in a certain genre of TV.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you: The Only Way Is Wrestling.
No, really, hear me out.
All but the most mentally challenged Alabamans have worked out that pro-wrestling is a work (I refuse to say fake). That it’s written out and the matches predetermined. Modern pro-wrestlers, to engage the audience, must be equally as adept at delivering scripts as they are delivering suplexes. They need to have a look and a style.
And this current crop of dramality series – The Only Way Is Essex, Geordie Shore, Made in Chelsea… they’re the same. They’re ‘scripted’. They’re a work. Confrontations and interactions between person A and person B come across like passive-aggresive wrestling promos. They’re full of tattooed, buff men and big-titted burdz.
They’re wrestling, without the wrestling.
So why not throw in the wrestling bit?
Imagine if, rather than smoldering looks and posho banality, Ollie and Spencer decided to settle their differences under Lord Mountevans’ rules. Wrestling shot in the style of TOWIE or Made in Chelsea – glossy, modern, contemporary. Promos delivered not before an audience. Feuds born of ‘real-life’ incidents, not contrived challenges over titles or because someone spilt coffee on someone else.
This is pro-wrestling made for an explicitly modern TV audience, rather than the live arena crowd. In fact, it’s about as far from the traditional arena wrestling as you could get – though that’s not to say people wouldn’t pay to see the matches.
Sound ridiculous? Possibly, but there’s a similar(ish) experiment already being tried in the USA. Hollywood producer Jeff Katz – the man behind preposterously daft movies Snakes on a Plane and Shoot ‘Em Up – used Kickstarter to get fans to put in for his Wrestling Revolution Project, which put wrestling into the context of modern drama.
Using a mix of indie talent, fans and actors, the aim of his project was to tell a coherent story within a self-contained season – with the in-ring just a part of the storytelling process. How the final product turns out remains to be seen, but those involved have promised it takes an innovative approach to shooting and presenting pro-wrestling.
So why not find similar inspiration here, with what’s a hit series. Katz looked to shows like The Wire as his inspiration, but with wall-to-wall scripted reality soaps here, why not go down that route?
You have 30 minutes of talk – folk falling out over a girl, a car, a bar, the wrong choice of words.. anything really. You simmer the feud with side stories, then pay it off at the end of the episode with a match. Folk take sides, so you don’t need to worry about traditional stereotypical heel/face dynamics – just the shades of grey that boom-era late 90s wrestling was filled with. And since everyone knows wrestling’s scripted, the audience won’t have any problem accepting it within the context of the feud.
The idea of presenting wrestling like that may be enough to spin old Lou Thesz in his grave fast enough for him to burl through concrete, but god help me I can see legs in it.
God knows, at this rate, it may be a lot more watchable than Raw…
The Real Bad Guy: How ESPN’s Scott Hall documentary fumbled the ball
It must have sounded like the easiest pitch in documentaries. Find a real-life version of Mickey Rourke’s character from The Wrestler. Someone who has ravaged their body through drugs, drink and bad choices and is reduced to doing stumbling, incoherent spots at indy shows after having headlined Wrestlemania.
And step forward Scott Hall. A genuine, real-life fuck up, who hit incredible highs in wrestling with the WWE and WCW, but whose personal demons have left him, in his 50s, likely to die sooner rather than later from a heart attack, having a fractious relationship with his family, and famously showing up at indy dates in ‘no shape to perform’.
So it was with ESPN’s E60 documentary earlier this week. A sad, depressing look at a man who clearly had issues long before he stepped inside a wrestling ring, but whose subsequent career highs and lows – to match his personal ones – make for a heartrending Rise and Fall style piece.
Hall’s problems are, for wrestling fans at any rate, well documented. Despite numerous spells in rehab, and a stomach implant that was supposed to prevent him drinking alcohol, his drinking cost him his chance to make an impact with the WWE on his return there in 2002.
More significantly it cost him his family in the late 90s – and despite the documentary showing him trying to make bridges with his son Cody, subsequent reports suggest that has failed and he’s back in rehab again, having broken off contact with the young man.
Hall’s issues stem from – amateur psychologist hat on – two problems, the documentary purported. A family with a history of addictions, with his parents and grandparents all alcoholics. And an incident when he was a bartender in the early 80s, just prior to joining Jim Crockett Promotions, when he shot a man through the head who had been about to pull a gun on him.
The documentary featured his former NWO stablemates and friends Sean Waltman and Kevin Nash talking about how much they feared for their friend – to the point where Waltman, who has himself overcome addictions and health issues to get his life back – admitting he’s been preparing himself for Hall’s death for a year and a half. To see the bloated, puffy, immobile shell Hall has become – especially compared to the guy who was still able to tear it up in the ring as recently as a couple of years ago – you understand why.
But there was another aspect to the documentary, one which showed either a lack of research or an urge to pursue an agenda regardless or veracity by ESPN. At the start, the filmmakers are seen talking about how the modern crop of pro-wresters aren’t interested in drugs or drinking. It’s an issue reiterated by various figures, including senior WWE figure Stephanie McMahon, later in the documentary.
“These days, the biggest addiction for most wrestlers is Playstation,” claims reporter Shaun Assael.
Bollocks. Indeed Assael, who penned the superlative Sex Lies and Headlocks book a decade or so ago, should know – he’s written numerous articles about the drug testing and drug problems within pro-wrestling, upto and including the WWE.
TNA Wrestling recently had two of its top performers involved in high profile drugs cases. In the case of Jeff Hardy – like Hall, a hugely promising star who has, sadly, become a monumental screw-up – it saw him do jail time for possession with intent to deliver.
His brother Matt, arrested so many times recently he’s practically got a season ticket, was fired from the company for his behaviour, before being arrested for possession after a series of YouTube videos and tweets which suggested he was either on the verge of, or suffering, a nervous breakdown.
Steroids and painkiller abuse are long-standing problems right across the pro-wrestling industry, from the lower leagues to the top companies, which remain a major issue. The number of wrestlers dying before the age of 40 is one of the great dirty secrets of the industry, and despite a high profile ‘Wellness Policy’ instigated at the WWE since Eddie Guerrero’s untimely passing in 2005, the death toll continues to mount. And of that death toll, the most common causes that come up are drug overdose or heart failure.
If football, or rugby, or baseball, or the NBA had a run of deaths of top performers like that, it’d be headline news. Indeed, the sudden passing of Marc-Vivien Foe and Phil O’Donnell within a couple of years of each other woke up football to the need for heart monitoring and cardiology checks on players.
ESPN’s documentary (posted below) was a heartbreaking look at the fall from grace of a man who, at one point, was one of the most famous and successful wrestlers in the world – and fitted the pitch they clearly wanted to make, that Scott Hall was the real life equivalent of Randy the Ram from Darren Aronofsky’s film. In that respect, it’s worth watching
But by taking that blinkered approach, and allowing nonsense about the current crop of pro-wrestlers being clean-living kids whose only vice is video gaming, ESPN does both Hall and their own film a disservice.
Episode 28: The Hunchback of Newton Mearns
The cast of Neverwhere promptly escaped into the London Underground where they survive as soldiers of fortune...
“You’re listening to Women’s Hour on Radio 4…”
Iain and Craig are joined by the First Lady of the Thumbcast (well, the First Lady ON the Thumbcast, anyway), gaming geek Cara Ellison, for another ramshackle ramble.
This time out we’ve got reviews of Terra Nova and Melancholia, an exclusive interview with wrestling voice Jeremy Borash, Cara’s charity gameathon – and Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere faces going underground for the Vault.
Plus: Batgirl’s lack of socks, Overblood, the Doctor Who Knitting Patern Book, Windaelickers of London, Lars Von Trier’s Unicron, vaginal metaphors, Baby Goose, Michael Buble Veloceraptor, poor Finlay Robertson, cinematic UNIX users. Denise Richards’ impact on science industry recruitment, Jack Bauer’s hood of magic, the new R Lee Ermey, how to knit the perfect jobbie, and a warning not to dip your cock in fiery Irn Bru…
Do please go and donate to Cara’s charity fundraising efforts here. Oh, and apologies for the slight interference every so often – two of our presenters forgot to switch their phones off…
So just how do you get hold of this ramshackle effort? Well, you can click here to subscribe via iTunes, or click here to download the episode without iTunes.
“It’s been a continuous rollercoaster” – The Thumbcast meets TNA’s Jeremy Borash
The angelic Jeremy Borash (centre) at TNA's Glasgow fan party, along with (l-r) Nick Aldis, Mickie James, Greg Hemphill and Robert Florence
Jeremy Borash has had an interesting career, it’s safe to say. From becoming a hit radio host in his teens to working for World Championship Wrestling during it’s darkest days, and now being one of the public faces of the group’s spiritual successor, TNA.
With Impact now airing on Freeview via Challenge TV – making it the most watched pro-wrestling group in the UK by some confortable margin – he’s also no stranger to these shores, regularly hosting fan parties this side of the Atlantic to engage with TNA’s vocal British support.
Last night The Thumbcast’s Iain had the chance to sit down in a noisy Glasgow nightclub (where else) and chat to the long-time announcer and presenter about his career with both companies – taking in his period working for free during TNA’s troubled early days, the end of WCW, controversial booker Vince Russo, whether the company could sustain a UK-only touring group… and why the main event of Bound for Glory has a special significance for him.
You can listen to our interview below.
TV hits Rock bottom
NBC’s questionable approach to making TV pilots continues then – we had Wonder Woman crash and burn, and now they’re looking at making a show about 80s wrestling.
Now, regular listeners to the podcast will know I’m a bit of a pro-wrestling fan. And the involvement of Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson in this new show gives it a bit of credibility that may otherwise have been lacking – especially since it comes from the Bruckheimer stable.
But even so, is the audience there for a TV series about wrestling? Actually, very possibly, if it’s done right.
The 80s is a fascinating time in US pro-wrestling. The curtain was starting to come down between whether or not the business was real or fake, just as the WWF was exploding in the public consciousness. Hulkamania was starting to run wild, thanks to MTV’s War to Settle The Score (with guest appearances by Cyndi Lauper) and NBC’s Saturday Night’s Main Event.
Behind the scenes, the aggressive expansion of the WWE, and ratings and Pay Per View battle with what would eventually become WCW led to the end of the old-school territories, the small regional organisations that had been a success for decades virtually wiped out as their stars and TV audiences were lured away by Vince McMahon and his showbiz presentation.
Meanwhile the lifestyles of the wrestlers, suddenly living the high life and making cash hand over fist if one of the big promotions, became a whirlwind of fame, drugs, steroids and – in many cases, sadly – death.
So there’s lots of stories you could tell in that era, and Johnson comes from a heritage steeped in history. His father was 70s and 80s star Rocky ‘Soul Man’ Johnson and his mother the daughter of legendary Hawaiian/Samoan star High Chief Peter Maivia. Besides his own experience as a performer, he’s heard all the behind the scenes stories from his family about what went on in that era.
Sadly, most of those are unbroadcastable. Unless you were on pay-TV like HBO or Starz.
There’s something called the Sleaze List – a collection of rumours and stories about the bad behaviour of pro-wrestlers from days gone by – which can be found on most message boards. The stories are wild, disgusting, probably libelous and largely insane – and even toning them down to a tenth of their impact would see them struggle to make it to broadcast telly.
But could it also be the catalyst for some new nostalgia porn. We’ve had the 60s with Mad Men and the new wave of shows such as Pan Am and Playboy Club. The 70s came and went with Swingtown and Life on Mars. We’re due an 80s revival – cue lots of Phil Collins and Simple Minds being broken out on producers’ iPods…