I was
reminded on initial viewing of Ken Burns’ recent addition to his documentary
series, Baseball: The Tenth Inning. WWE, too, have used a
beautifully-knit array of talking heads, newspaper clippings, images and film
to tell the story of the last 50 years of their business. The high-production
values, stunning editing and re-mastered HD footage are all narrated by the man
whose voice Burns, himself, employed for his latest offering - Keith David. If
ever you wondered whether Vince McMahon really still wanted his promotion to be
taken as seriously as any sport, this, I would say, is as clear a proof as any.
The documentary
tells a story that is familiar to most of us (certainly from 1985 onwards) but
the matches, angles and promos chosen to be representative of the last 50 years
of wrestling on the subsequent discs are largely already out there and
available for purchase. Other than the Bruno Sammartino v ‘Superstar’ Billy
Graham match from April 1977, a Tribute to the Troops match from 2008 and this
year’s Cena and Punk Raw match from February, all matches come from the big
four ppvs and have been released on DVD – you probably either own them or have
no interest in owning them. Many of the key stories here are also available
elsewhere and have been approached in recent collections – think the Attitude Era,
The Rock, Steve Austin, Triple H, all who have had collections released in the
last two years.
With that
said, the documentary has some wonderful moments and is littered with stars
from the past, hall of famers and current roster talent. One voice is decidedly
absent however: that of Vince McMahon. Vince did no sit-down interview for this
collection. Instead, everyone else tells his story for him, especially Linda,
and he appears as if from beyond the grave in pre-recorded interviews from over
the last 30 years. This decision is understandable to an extent but is also
fairly baffling: should the man who turned this industry into what it is today
have a say on his company’s 50th anniversary in 2013?
His father
is given huge kudos by all who speak about him. He is described as fair,
honest, classy; a man who treated talent like family. On the advent of
wrestling TV, Vince saw this as the place where wrestling was able to grow. At
the Capitol Arena, Washington on Thursday nights, wrestling started to get a
new image and a new set of viewers who hadn’t previously had access to it. It
seduced many. The re-mastered, black and white footage in HD looks tremendous
here.
From that era,
one man is given top billing: Bruno. Crowds flocked, he was a massive draw, a
fan favourite told as if it was of Beatle-mania proportions. As a headliner of
MSG nearly 200 times, the man who was on every cover of every wrestling magazine
(and there were many), it is wonderfully fitting that he should have made up
with the company so that he could be present here on this documentary feature.
He looks wonderful, speaks with insight and precision and is an asset to the
film. And, I had no idea that he had at one time had a private audience with
the Pope. Quite remarkable.
From Sammartino
onwards, WWE had a steady trickle of stars from Backland to Andre to George ‘The
Animal’ Steele to Jimmy Snuka and Billy Graham. They went into syndication and
began to evolve. Sgt Slaughter claims that he was the first man to have music
play him to the ring and that Vince was spearheading that kind of change in the
industry that would survive to this day. The ‘82 takeover, he said, “kicked the
doors open and let in some fresh air.” A wonderful phrase but the aggression hinted
at in his words is mirrored by those who speak about the way in which Vince
went out to buy out those territories.
WWE and Hogan
needed each other and they have no problem in painting that truth as the
picture of the time. There is tonnes of footage of Hogan from the early days of
his time with company, looking chubby and bloated but by WrestleMania I, Roddy
Piper puts over how real the heat was on him because of the way he acted
towards the likes of Hogan. I thought it was interesting that, of WrestleMania
I, Bret Hart noted that many had felt that it would probably be their last ever
big high and that beyond it, it was probably game overt. Linda tells the story
that by 3am on April 1st she had gone to Vince to say that they had broken
even.
Dick Ebersol
(SNL) is a real advocate of the company and adds authenticity to the documentary.
When they had gone to Saturday Night’s Main Event on NBC - a monthly, late
night television show that would combine wrestling, music and comedy – they were
giving a new exposure to wrestling and getting many new eyeballs on the
product. He talks about the merchandising opportunities that this then allowed
them to venture into. It’s eye-opening, actually. When you see just how much
they were shelling, through so many different market areas, you realise just
how different this national frontage allowed them to be.
The steroid
trial in the early 90s is told with a certain amount of passivity. Within a few
minutes of summary, the first wellness policy is mentioned instead of going
into any great depths of the three week trial. They take a fairly cursory view
of the trial, the accusations and, although they indicate that all involved
were under great stress and strain, they assure us that the experience was
ultimately positive since it let the new generation of younger, unproven talent
come through. Vince the victim had turned the ultimate potential disaster, the
perfect storm, into the chance to “hit the reset button’ (Jim Ross). It allowed
Bret Hart to become a main star and as Undertaker states, “it made us work
hard, cos everyone wanted to be the guy who would take us forward.” Raw
followed in a time that was all about being fresh – MTV had gone, ‘unplugged’,
wrestling was now ‘raw’. Linda said that “some fans who didn’t have access to
ppv, this was their first experience of live wrestling.”
The Monday
Night Wars are painted, briefly, as a battle that was about money that was
ultimately won because WWE had ‘better talent’ and told ‘better stories’. Montreal
is told in about a total of 3 minutes: “WWE no longer needed Bret Hart.” (I’m
not sure how Bret will feel about that.) They put over Vince’s character as a
result of Montreal – “it was just all so well thought out” – Steve Saks of Pro
Wrestling Illustrated (it was?). But they do correctly indentify that this was
the turning point, the launching pad for what would become the Attitude Era.
The Attitude
Era is painted as a hellish Rome: women in droves, gratuity, cursing, sex,
crazed characters, general chaos; unscripted anarchy. The kids that watched the
product during Hulkamania were now teens and wanted this, Lawler says. “Sex
sells.” Steph giggles that her room-mate at college was a kindergarten trainee
and 5 year olds would imitate DX at school which “became problematic.” The era
saw the biggest stars in company history but they’re looked at fleetingly. We’re
given a montage of stars: Triple H, Austin, Rock, the household names who had
made “it cool to watch wrestling.” I can see why they’re not given much more
time – their stories are out there already - but Cena gets way more air time than
he deserves later.
The Owen
Hart tragedy is told for the first time on a WWE DVD. Ross says, “our producer
said ‘we’re going to give an update on Owen after the next segment’, and I said
‘what is the update?’ He said, ‘he’s dead,’ ‘what?’ ‘he’s dead. And we’re coming
to you live in 30 seconds.” Linda recalls that it was “the most awful night I
have ever experienced,” while the Undertaker recalls that “it was devastating,
most people won’t see that side of Vince but it really hurt him. It was like
losing a family member”
From here
on, it feels anachronistic at times but is told at a real pace: SmackDown! debuts,
the first weekly wrestling show for the company on network television, which allowed
the roster to “become two” and gave people more TV time; stars remember the
power of the 9/11 show; the company became a publically traded company in 1999.
Vince says that he needed to be able to “look in the mirror” and make sure that
he’d done the best with the product every day; WCW is purchased; people sighed
with relief; “Our competition is now everything that’s out there on
entertainment television.” – Steph; they have the brand extension and all of
sudden we speed through the post-attitude era until we hit 2005/6 and John
Cena.
Time slows.
John Cena is remembered as if he, too, was long gone. The documentary here
takes more than just a pit stop on the timeline to look at the family-friendly,
clean, wholesome work of one John Cena. Most notably it is his charity work that
is mentioned most - in great detail - while his ring craft or his shopping list
of decorations and titles with the company isn’t touched upon at all. His image
and persona is used as a springboard for the documentary to look at the future
of the company, at pace.
Films, WWE
Studios, filming in HD, the website, twitter, social media, pre-shows, the app,
youtube and NXT and the WWE Performance Center are all covered in a
blink-and-you’d-miss-it fashion. The only saving grace of the last quarter of
the film is the time that they take to illustrate the importance of the Hall of
Fame and its’ inductees. The last 10 minutes is a tribute to Vince and the
lasting impact of the company.
The gloss,
polish and lustre of this documentary is something to be admired. WWE does
production and editing better than just about any company in the entertainment
business; it’s no wonder that they’re now venturing into the world of E! - they’ve
met their match there. Of course, WWE aren’t going to turn around and tell you
a complete story of 50 years in two hours that is wholly true and pure. But, if
you bought Triple H’s DVD earlier last month, you’d be forgiven for thinking
that you’d be slightly short-changed by this feature.
‘Sports
Entertainment’ never looked this good but, unfortunately, accuracy and truth aren’t
measured through aesthetics.
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