Wrestling.net.au

Break It Down
By Manny Tsigas

Wrestling with Cinema

As much as I love wrestling, there’s nothing that excites me more than movies. On average I watch about five films a week, so I can seriously say that to this day cinema has consumed me as much as I’ve consumed it. When I graduated from high school my plan was to go to Uni and study journalism so I could become a film critic. But when I got to my first class I learned very quickly that I wasn’t a unique case, so I knuckled down and got into this fandangled “news and current affairs” thing they were always raving on about.

Nevertheless, cinema has always played a big part in my life, and in between movies I’ve also managed to stay up-to-date with WWE’s ever-expanding list of shows and pay-per-views (somehow). When you think about it, cinema and wrestling aren’t that different from each other. Both are built on a foundation of glitz, glamour and make-believe (Rey Mysterio’s title reign), include special effects (Hogan’s in-ring believability), are usually made up of plots and characters that are shoved down our throats worse than a night with Paris Hilton (insert name here vs. McMahon), and both are about the bottom line.

That last one continues to grow because we, the wrestling fan, are stupid enough to shell out money to watch 15 generic pay-per-views a year, bid at the latest WWE auction for Michelle McCool’s panties and purchase from the company’s sickeningly broad range of merchandise.

So it was no real surprise when WWE Films popped up in 2002. Just three years earlier, Vince McMahon gave his take on the wrestling industry by telling Barry W. Blaustein – in his awesome doco Beyond the Mat (1999) – that “we make movies”. We’re then introduced to the company’s costume designer, theme song composer, and script writers (Vince Russo, before he jumped ship to WCW) – billing the then-WWF as a muscle-bound, pyro-fuelled tinsel town.

But as business-savvy as Vince is, he’s mostly clueless when it comes to making a good picture – case in point, No Holds Barred (1989). Upon reading the original script, McMahon – along with his red and golden boy Hulk Hogan – thought it needed “more”. What happened next was what I’d like to call the world’s worst one night stand (yes, even worse than the 2007 pay-per-view of the same name).

Vince and Hulk decided to book a hotel room in Redington Beach, California to give the script a makeover. What they came up with was a true work of fiction – a film that makes Lawnmower Man 2 (1996) look like Spiderman 3 (2007). The plot surrounds Rip (Hogan), a professional wrestler and general do-gooder, who is lured into a match with a villainous powerhouse known as Zeus (“Tiny” Lister Jr.) by an evil television executive (not Vince). The world in which the film exists has wrestling as the biggest and best form of entertainment in the world, thus making Hogan’s character the biggest star in the world. No prizes for guessing who came up with those plot points.

One scene has Rip showing off just how powerful he is, by growling at a bodyguard causing him to literally shit his pants. And then they wonder why wrestling is never taken seriously.

When you try and translate facets of wrestling into cinema, nine times out of ten it will suck worse than a vacuum cleaner endorsed by Monica Lewinsky. To be fair, yes, there have been a few good titles that included wrestlers or wrestling. Piper’s performance in They Live (1988) reached cult status. Terry Funk’s cameos in Road House (1989) and Over the Top (1987) remain some of my personal favourites. And my heart swelled with pride as the end credits rolled for The Wrestler (2008) – easily the greatest example of the two mediums coming together.

Even Hogan’s big-screen career was promising at first. His debut was in Rocky III (1982) where he portrayed an egomaniacal wrestler with three moves – looks like he went out of his way to cover that one. But from a single credible appearance came a slew of shit-heaps. Mr Nanny, Santa with Muscles, Suburban Commando, The Secret Agent Club, Thunder in Paradise – suddenly the Hulkster was making more bombs than Al-Qaeda.

At the same time I am being a little harsh. What people must understand about wrestlers is that they’re not actors, and like cinema, wrestling’s standards and practices have come a long way since the early days of chokeholds and body slams. Most are expected to keep their physical appearance in peak condition, only to risk it every time they step into the ring. On top of that they’ve got relentless travelling schedules, fan sessions, rehearsals, as well as trying to salvage what’s left of their own personal lives. It takes a tremendous toll both physically and mentally, so when I watch RAW, I don’t exactly expect an episode of The Sopranos (though whoever came up with the Main Event Mafia keeps trying regardless).

Very rarely does the wrestling industry capture someone who’s got the full package – looks, charisma, in-ring prowess, and dramatic believability. The exception, in my opinion, would have to be the artist formerly known as The Rock. When WWE Films was announced, I laughed my cynical ass off. But that went out the window when I saw The Rundown (2003) (or Welcome to the Jungle here in Australia). “It’s finally happened,” I thought. “The world of wrestling has a star that’s brilliant in the ring, and good on film.”

So naturally Dwayne Johnson left the wrestling industry before you could say The Rundown 2: Electric Boogaloo.

It’s been pretty much downhill since. See No Evil (2006) had flashes of promise, but was mostly bland and pointless. The Marine (2006) had more clichés than you can shake a stick at (see?). And The Condemned (2007) could have been a little more entertaining if it hadn’t been made at least five times before, including one title from Australia (useless trivia – all three of the aforementioned movies were filmed on the Gold Coast).

All in all, WWE’s movies are a lot like WWE’s current product – both want to recreate the glory and success of the 1980s. See No Evil is to Friday the 13th (1980), as The Marine is to Commando (1985). I can’t speak for WWE’s entire audience, but there’s a lot of us who would like something new or at least a fresh take on something familiar. I can’t really see that happening in John Cena’s new movie 12 Rounds (2009). To quote The Miz (there’s a phrase I thought I’d never hear): “You're always saying “You Can't See Me”. Well you're right. I can't – because your movies aren't in theatres long enough.”

Burn.

Comments: