Tag: wrestling

Against the Ropes

  By

★★½
“More soap than opera.”

In one of the odder remakes I’ve seen in a while, this is a repurposing of the French 2013 film, Les reines du ring, which translates as “Queens of the Ring”. The core concept is retained, but the location is changed from France to Mexico, and the idea is expanded to a ten-part series. These changes make for a bit of a mixed blessing. Pro wrestling is certainly a more well-established part of the cultural landscape in Mexico, where lucha libre is extremely popular. On the other hand, the multiplication of the running time a factor of about four, leads to the necessary injection of superfluous storylines, which definitely reduced the entertainment value as far as I was concerned. It’s less a wrestling soap-opera, than a soap-opera with wrestling in it.

It begins with Ángela (Sánchez) getting out of jail, after a largely unwarranted six-year sentence for drug possession. While she’s been in jail, daughter Rocío (Santiago) has been living with her grandmother, but has been spending increasing time with her father, Lalo (Jimenez). He runs a local wrestling arena, and his girlfriend is the woman’s champion, Candy Caramelo (Gruber). Rocio has no interest in re-connecting with her mother, and Ángela ends up breaking out the old family business; her long-gone father was a star. She secretly becomes masked wrestler Novia Negra – the Bride in Black – to win back Rocio’s affection. But Candy is not impressed by this new rival, in either the ring or her family life.

If this had been it, I feel things would have been entertaining, though I admit it would have been tough to stretch that plot-line out over eight episodes. The makers prefer to throw in a slew of additional storylines, of varying effectiveness. Ángela seeking for the truth behind the knapsack which got her sent to prison. Rocio’s trouble at school, with bullies and a boy she likes. Hell, even Ángela’s mother gets a subplot in which she finds romance with the owner of the bridal store for whom her daughter works. There are times when it feels like there’s barely a mention of lucha libre over an entire episode. GLOW did a much better job of striking a balance between character development and sports entertainment.

This is a shame, since there are some interesting quirks here. GLOW never pretended wrestling was anything but predetermined. This show firmly keeps “kayfabe” – the illusion that what goes on in the ring is real. I don’t mean that Candy and Ángela are pretending to dislike each other: that’s genuine enough. But the battles between Candy and Novia are not carefully choreographed spectacles of athleticism, they’re presented as “real fights”. I’d love to have seen more exploration of this, and considerably less of Rocio’s pre-teen angst. To be frank, who cares if she has had her first period? I know I didn’t. Wrestling has been described as “soap-opera on steroids.” This show feels in need of an injection of PEDs.

Showrunner: Fernando Sariñana
Star: Caraly Sánchez, Scarlet Gruber, Alisson Santiago, Cuauhtli Jimenez
a.k.a. Contra las cuerdas

Beautiful Wrestlers: Down for the Count

  By

★★★
“Ring of dishonour.”

This is probably a good one and a half stars more than I expected, based on the synopsis and screen shots, which made it seem considerably more like porn with a minor wrestling subplot. Okay, it is not exactly fun for all the family, to put it very mildly – if that wasn’t implied by the poster, the NSFW alternative should make abundantly clear what to expect. But it is, at least, closer to wrestling with a porn subplot, and managed to surpass those expectations in a number of ways. One of these was the plot, though less the central thread, than all the weird stuff around the fringes.

For its core is fairly cliched: wannabe wrestler Megu (Yamamoto) has a feud with Shinobu (Ada), a student at another school who keeps stealing Megu’s boyfriends. Inevitably, this ends in a tag match between the two schools as Megu and the good girls of the Delta Dolls, take on her nemesis and her allies in the Black Whores. It is your standard, garden variety “sports heroine overcomes adversity to triumph” narrative, we’ve seen a thousand times before. However, there are elements which suggest sly parody rather than anything taken seriously. Most obviously, Megu’s secret super strength power, which is activated… any times she uses a tampon. This is why, during the final battle, her boyfriend is running around the crowd outside, asking women if they can give him a tampon. Used or not.

Yeah, you need to have a fairly robust set of sensibilities, to get through what’s a thoroughly lecherous endeavour. However, again, the film opts to embrace this aspect, with a Greek chorus of men who watch the training and yell out statements like, “Look, you can see all their camel-toes!” Oh, the training in question, consists of the students assuming the crab position, while being prodded with large dildos. I am just reporting this stuff, I had no hand in making any of it up. There’s also a good amount of soft-core sex, this being a “roman porno”, out of the Nikkatsu stable, who along with Toei were the premier purveyors of Japanese adult entertainment in the period.

But it’s miles better than I feared. Genuine production values help, no least being shot on 35mm rather than video. While nobody is going to mistake Yamamoto and friends for Manami Toyota, they are clearly doing most if not all of their own action, and the action is comparable enough to what we saw in GLOW. The final match is actually decent; I’ve seen less impressive bouts involving supposed pro wrestlers. Admittedly, it is probably a good thing Chris was not about, for the level of her disdainful snorts would likely have reached toxic levels. Yet, despite the ludicrous elements, also including both Megu’s novel way of extinguishing a camp fire, and her boyfriend’s unfortunate genital condition, everyone takes this Extremely Seriously. It’s the only way this can possibly work, and helped this to soar way past my preconceived notions. 

Dir: Hiroyuki Nasu
Star: Natsuko Yamamoto, Kaoru Oda, Makoto Yoshino, Naomi Hagio

Crimson Crown Wrestling’s Goddess of Gore 2

  By

★★★½
“Hard to the core.”

I’ve written occasionally about the more extreme end of women’s wrestling, but it appears not for a while. It was back in 2012-13 when I covered IWA Mid-South: Queen of the Deathmatch and FMW: Torn to Shreds. A fair amount of water has gone under the bridge in the field, since I bemoaned “the largely pathetic excuse for it put out by the WWE”. We had the Divas “Revolution” in 2015, which eventually led to the WWE’s first all-female PPV, Evolution, in 2018. Becky Lynch, Ronda Rousey and Charlotte Flair then headlined Wrestlemania that year, the first women to do so.

But it’s still very unlikely you will see mainstream promotions go ‘hardcore’, using weapons and bleeding. That said, in March this year, AEW had a somewhat controversial match between Britt Baker and Thunder Rosa, which ended with both participants wearing the crimson mask. Generally, however, if you want that – and if you don’t, that’s perfectly fine too, for I appreciate this is not to everyone’s taste – you need to dig down into the world of independent wrestling.

Which brings us to CCW’s Goddess of Gore 2, held at American Legion Post #335 in South Gate, California, on October 3rd, before a crowd of… dozens. Okay, that is a bit snarky. We have worked for and patronize a lot of independent federations locally, and the crowd for them is typically along similar lines, between one and two hundred. That is a bit sad, because given what the participants go through, they deserve more. Then again, tickets for this show started at forty bucks, which is easily twice the price of what we’d pay here in Arizona. Maybe, like petrol, professional wrestling just costs more in California.

The format was simple: eight women in a knockout tournament, so the winner would need to win three matches in the night to take home the trophy. The participants were a broad mix, including veterans and relative newcomers. Ironically, the former included Mickie Knuckles, who was the winner of 2006’s Queen of the Deathmatch. The others included Randi West, who has been fighting even longer then Knuckles, starting her pro career in 2002; Mariah Moreno, a transgender wrestler; and the wonderfully named Ludark Shaitan, who came up from Mexico for the event.

Things did take a little while to get going, with the first match almost blood-free. However, things escalated thereafter, with the next bout, between Knuckles and Ruby Raze including – and I wrote all this down – fluorescent light tubes, a TV set, an apparently real beer bottle (which failed to break on the victim’s head!) and a weed-whacker. This was more like the kind of insane mayhem I expected, given the title. In terms of pure wrestling, the third match might have been the best, in which “Pumpkin Queen” Sage Sin prevailed over “The Patron Saint of Filth” Christina Von Eerie [Yeah, no pro wrestler ever undersells themselves!]

But it was in the semi-finals where the carnage ramped up to another level. West faced Shaitan, who deserves credit for wrestling back-to-back matches, with little or no rest (at over 11 minutes, this was also the longest bout in the tournament). It ended with West beating Shaitan, after driving her through a door, after coming off the top rope. There may also have been a cheese-grater involved. [Quick aside here: despite the small attendance, I did find CCW’s presentation of the event quite impressive and professional. It was helped in particular by commentators Kris Kloss & Kikyo, who managed to be both enthusiastic and informative]

The other final saw Knuckles taking on Sage Sin, and certainly had some of the more… original items. A car windshield was propped up in one corner, and at one point, Sin tried to drive Knuckles through an ironing-board. That particular move ended with Mickie’s head catching the edge of the board, in a sobering reminder that, especially in this kind of wrestling, shit happens. Still, Mickie was able to recover, surviving that and being swatted with a fan of light tubes. She reached the final, albeit with the help of some outside interference. This may have made more sense in the broader scheme of CCW storylines; to this casual viewer, however, it seemed rather pointless.

So: West vs. Knuckles it was, proving that experience matters. Neither might be exactly what a non-fan would think of as lady wrestlers – lady truckers might be a bit cruel, yet not unfair – but you can’t argue about what really matters. That would be their willingness to put their bodies on the line for our amusement. In the beginning, they were chained to each other with barbed-wire, and the ring hadn’t even been cleared of the debris left over from the semi-finals. It did not take long before both women were bleeding: Mickie had the worst of the early exchanges, as Randi stapled her shirt to her opponent’s head, then used it to choke her.

The ring, by this stage, was awash in broken glass, thumbtacks, beer and god knows what else, making things even more treacherous. It was only when West was able to throw Knuckle through the windscreen, and cover her for the pin. But it was kinda touching how, after the bout, Knuckles spoke in glowing terms about her veteran opponent. West, too, seemed genuinely moved by having won an actual trophy: “In wrestling, you don’t get a lot of tangible rewards.” Yeah, pro wrestling is staged, I know. But having seen what West had gone through over the course of one night, I’m in agreement with the crowd and their chants of “You deserve it!”

Promotion:: Crimson Crown Wrestling
Star: Mickie Knuckles, Randi West, Sage Sin, Ludark Shaitan

Fighting With My Family

  By

★★★½
“The fall gal.”

This biopic of WWE Women’s Champion Paige, a.k.a. Saraya Knight from the English seaside town of Norwich, gets a lot of things right about professional wrestling. In particular, it strikes a good balance between the various aspects – positive and negative – of the sports entertainment business. Over the past twenty years, Chris and I have been intermittently involved with the independent end of the wrestling scene, like Knight and her family, and this captures the low-rent showbiz aspects beautifully. Yet it doesn’t shortchange the seductive – almost addictive – appeal of performance for a responsive crowd, or the potential escape from a drab life it offers someone like Saraya/Paige.

This was inspired by a documentary of the same name, which covered everything up to her successful tryout with WWE, but not much thereafter. To be honest, that’s probably the most entertaining section, being a thoroughly amusing series of escapades, populated by quirky and amusing characters, inhabiting the low-rent world at the bottom of the wrestling pyramid. Not the least of these are her parents, plaved by Frost and, surprisingly, Lena Headey. It’s… strange seeing Cersei Lannister putting people into a headlock. [Fun fact: I saw Saraya’s Mum wrestle at the Fairfield Halls in Croydon, back in the late nineties – even if they mis-spelled her name on the flyer!]

Once she goes over to the United States, it becomes a rather more predictable “fish out of water” story, with the dark, somewhat sullen Paige a radical departure from the other wannabe Divas, who all align more with the three T’s required by WWE at the time: teeth, tan and tits. The highlight in this phase is Vaughn’s performance as acerbic (and fictional) coach Hutch Morgan, who pulls no punches in his quest to winnow out the chaff for the benefit of his employer. For Paige, that transition is about becoming comfortable in her own skin, and repairing the relationship with her brother (Lowden), who also wanted – arguably, even more than Saraya – to reach the WWE, but was not offered a spot. To no-one’s surprise (even if you don’t know the story, this sticks to the well-worn path of the underdog sports film), she does so, and the film ends as she makes her debut, the night after Wrestlemania in New Orleans.

In terms of happy endings, that’s probably for the best. For injury forced Paige’s eventual retirement in April 2018, at the age of just 25, after barely two years of active competition and four in total. Not mentioned by the film, it’s a salutary reminder: a pro wrestler’s career is hard, and can be short. This is certainly a story which has been dramatized for cinematic purposes, probably inevitably. Yet the basic thread is intact – and, more importantly, the spirit of the people who inspired it is honoured. Having it directed by Merchant, previously best known as Ricky Gervais’s sidekick, proves a masterstroke. In his able hands, and helped by a winning performance from Pugh, the hackneyed material proves more than tolerable.

Dir: Stephen Merchant
Star: Florence Pugh, Jack Lowden, Vince Vaughn, Nick Frost

WWE Evolution 2018

  By

★★★½
“The truth about the Evolution”

The WWE has had a fraught relationship with women’s wrestling over the years, but things seem to have been heading in a positive direction recently. They dropped the terrible “Divas” tag, renaming the belt back to being the women’s championship, and with Triple-H overseeing things, seemed to be bringing in talent based on wrestling ability, rather than just looks. While very much a work in progress, this led to ground being broken on October 28, with the company holding its first-ever pay-per-view show entirely filled with women’s matches. That there was enough talent to make such a show possible, in itself indicated how things had changed. However, it was not without controversy.

The event itself was announced in July, and may have been a reaction to criticism of WWE after their April Greatest Royal Rumble show in Saudi Arabia. Due to that country’s social climate, women were not allowed to wrestle there, and after a promo video included them in action, the Saudi General Sports Authority issued an apology for this “indecent material.” Having a women-only PPV seemed like an acknowledgement of the issues. Yet Evolution was overshadowed by another WWE event in Saudi Arabia, scheduled a week later – a situation not helped by the murder of local journalist Jamal Khashoggi at the country’s consulate in Istanbul. The concept also came in for criticism from those who felt the company was patting itself on the back for “evolving” out of depths which were entirely of Vince McMahon’s own making.

I can’t honestly say these factors had any impact on my interest in the largest women’s show ever – at least, in the United States. For back in 1994, AJW held their oddly-named Big Egg Wrestling Universe show at the Tokyo Dome, with a crowd of over thirty thousand in attendance. In comparison, attendance at the Nassau Coliseum was less than one-third that, at 10,900. Still, it was an order of magnitude up on the previous American high, likely belonging to Impact Wrestling‘s One Night Only: Knockouts Knockdown show, which took place before a crowd of 1,100 in May 2014. And, for me, the possible positives heavily outweigh any negatives: a good show could encourage viewers to check out all-women federations like Shimmer or Shine. A rising tide floats all boats – I note a local Arizona federation staged its first gyno-centric show the weekend after Evolution.

But would they deliver? Technically, it was a decent presentation by WWE, if a little smaller-scale than expected – the regular RAW set-up was elsewhere in the country, so they had to make do a bit in terms of lighting and spectacle. I did like the commentary team of Michael Cole, Beth Phoenix and Renee Young, who all seemed genuinely enthusiastic – even Cole, who can sometimes come over as a bit of a dick. With that said, let’s go through the seven matches on the official card (there was a ‘dark’ bout that took place before the broadcast began) and see how they fared. Spoilers. of necessity, follow the rest of the way.

1. Trish Stratus and Lita defeated Mickie James and Alicia Fox. Things started slowly, as two retired Hall of Famers returned to kick the show off. Though James has been around almost as long, and fought against Stratus and Lita when they were active (both retired in 2006). This seemed intended as a bridge, to link the past to the present, but the fact the veterans had been out of ring action for more than a decade inevitably meant this was mostly slow and careful. Though the biggest botch belonged to Fox, whose save on a pinfall attempt was so late, the referee had to stop counting. The icons won after Lita hit her signature moonsault. She was the first woman I ever saw doing that move, and it’s still impressive [especially now at the age of 43!].

2. Nia Jax won by the 20-woman Battle Royal. Never been a big fan of the Battle Royal; it makes the ring look like a brawl on a rush-hour train in the early stages. Still, it was nice to see some more veterans, including Alundra Blayze, and Molly Holly, whom we interviewed in 2006. Iy did showcase the depth of women’s talent now present in the WWE. There were times in the past when I doubt they could have found 20 women in the company for a bout like this, without including make-up artists and secretaries. Things became less chaotic once we eventually got down to the final few competitors, and I was pleased to see Jax win. She’s one of the furthest from the archetypal “Diva” – billed at six foot tall and 273 pounds – yet unlike some of the larger men, is no slouch in the ring. Fun fact: her cousin is Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.

3. Toni Storm defeated Io Shirai in the 2018 Mae Young Classic tournament final. The first singles match was an excellent one, despite being between two wrestlers not yet on the main roster. Both were familiar though: Storm had reached the semi-finals of the 2017 Mae Young Classic, while Shirai was part of one of our all-time favourite matches on Lucha Underground. Storm is an Australian, and could hardly be more archetypally Antipodean if she tried: tall, blond and fit. She’s going to be a star. For Shirai, the problem for WWE may be finding people of her level, against whom she can wrestle. I almost sensed her having to slow down and pull her punches here, to avoid overwhelming Storm. As with most Japanese wrestlers, the key to her success in the West will be if she can get her personality on the mic, something which has limited many of them in the past.

4. Sasha Banks, Bayley, and Natalya defeated The Riott Squad (Ruby Riott, Liv Morgan, and Sarah Logan). There’s nothing like a good bad girl, and the Riott Squad provides three of them. They certainly had my backing – but then, I’ve never been impressed by Banks, and for some reason, Bayley irritates me more than anything (I think it’s at least partly the hair). I thought the Squad worked particularly well as a team. If the rumblings about WWE introducing a women’s tag division prove true, then you could pick any two of the trio and they’d be more than credible contenders. Their opponents though? Meh. Largely forgettable, even Natalya, who typically represents good value for money.

5. Shayna Baszler defeated Kairi Sane for the NXT Women’s Championship. The two, shown below, have been feuding in NXT  (the WWE’s top developmental brand), with former MMA fighter Baszler winning the title in April, but losing it to Sane in August. This was also a rematch of the final from the first Mae Young Classic, in which Sane prevailed over the “submission magician” Baszler – and was similar in content, with Bazler trying to ground and pound Sane, while the latter used her speed and agility to stay out of her opponent’s grasp. While Sane lost, it was largely only through the intervention of Baszler’s friends in the front-row, who helped her regain the title. That dubious interference helps solidify her heel status nicely, though she will need to do a better job of not seeming like Pepsi to Ronda Rousey’s Coke.

6. Becky Lynch defeated Charlotte Flair in a Last Woman Standing match for the WWE SmackDown Women’s Championship. This was pretty much a universal pick as match of the night: in Cageside Seats‘s poll, it got 86% of the votes, with nothing else at more than 4%. I can see why (though preferred Storm/Shirai). At almost half an hour long, it was epic in length: a stark contrast to the women’s match which started the #GiveDivasAChance trend on Twitter, and helped open the door for this show. That bout in 2015, pitted Paige & Emma against the Bella Twins, and lasted… 26 seconds. However, Lynch’s superior talent was often glaringly obvious, especially in the early stages, with Flair starting very slowly. She did improve as it went on, and this eventually blossomed into a full-on brawl, with kendo sticks and ladders used without mercy as weapons. It ended when Lynch powerbombed Flair through a table, and left her unable to beat the referee’s ten-count – the only way to win this match. It was certainly the fight that defined the event.

7. Ronda Rousey defeated Nikki Bella for the WWE Raw Women’s Championship. Our daughter went to school in Scottsdale with the Bella Twins. I’m sure she would have enjoyed seeing Nikki get the crap pounded out of her by “the most dangerous woman on the planet”. It was interesting how Nikki uses “diva” – WWE’s official designation for women wrestlers until April 2016 – as a term to get heel heat. In many ways, she is the last of that ‘old guard’, and to be honest, the sooner she’s gone the better, because she and her sister still can’t do more than take part in glorified catfights and make duck-faces. As such, Rousey is the anti-Bellas, and I’m fine with that. However, I’m unimpressed by WWE giving her the title, four months after her pro wrestling debut – at Wrestlemania. Considering the women who have honed their craft in obscurity for decades (hello, Mercedes Martinez), guess there’s still work to be done before WWE truly “gets” it.

All told, it was a solid event, especially considering it was the first of its kind. Yet if it is to be at all meaningful, it can’t be the last, and if WWE could avoid overshadowing it next time, simultaneously shooting itself in the foot, that would be just great… There won’t be quite the same novelty to promote Evolution II, yet that shouldn’t be a problem, as long as the weekly shows continue to provide a chance for the women to show their talents on a regular basis. It’s been a long time since I’ve been as optimistic about the potential future for women’s wrestling in the West, and despite the flaws, in future years we may look back to this event as a watershed in its blossoming.

Star: Ronda Rowsey, Nikki Bella, Becky Lynch, Charlotte Flair

GLOW: season two

  By

★★★½
“Twoooooooo….”

I don’t typically binge-watch shows, being generally content with an episode or two per week. For the second season of GLOW, Netflix’s original series (very) loosely based on 80’s TV show Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling, we made an exception and blitzed through the series in a couple of days. This in itself is a recommendation – with most of the episodes running barely 30 minutes, it was very much a case of “just one more…” Before we knew it, we were done, and left with a vague feeling of emptiness and slight regret at having burned the 10 episodes so quickly.

Is it as freshly original as the first series? I’m inclined to say not quite, mostly because it’s treading in its own footsteps. Some aspects have improved – not least the wrestling, which (under the continued tutelage of Chavo Guerrero, who makes a cameo on the final episode) is now probably better than anything the real Gorgeous Ladies ever managed. But the balance seems to have tilted. It feels more like a soap opera with occasional interludes of sports entertainment, while its predecessor went the other way. This series is also rather more strident and obvious in its morality, not least a ham-handed shoehorning in of a #MeToo narrative that had #MeRollingMyEyes.

If the first season was about the struggle up the mountain to make the show, this one is about the fight to stay on the summit and avoid cancellation, in the face of evaporating sponsors and an unengaged TV station, as well as the ongoing relationship between its top stars: former soap star Debbie, a.k.a. Liberty Belle (Gilpin) and bit-part actress Ruth, a.k.a. Zoya the Destroya (Brie). This comes to a literal crunch when a coked-up Debbie genuinely breaks Ruth’s ankle during a match – an incident inspired by a badly dislocated arm suffered by Susie Spirit in the real GLOW.

Some scenes, and even entire episodes, are great: the GLOW parody of “USA for Africa” is perfect, as is the anti-teen sex PSA Debbie assembles. And the eighth episode is, save for the final few seconds in which life decides to imitate art, an entire TV episode of the supposed show. It’s a faithful recreation of the style – albeit with rather less wrestling than the “real” thing – and is glorious, something I’d happily watch every week. The performances throughout are beautifully nuanced, with the best being Brie, and Maron as the show’s good-hearted bastard director Sam Sylvia.

But there were enough flaws in the writing as well as weaker episodes (especially during the first half); combined with the lack of any much sense of building on the previous season, I have to give it a slightly lower rating. Debbie’s coke use, for example, comes out of nowhere and goes there too. Maybe things like that will become more relevant in any third series: this one ends with the cast and crew heading to Las Vegas [finally catching up with the real GLOW, who were based out of there]. Until then… Well, we’ll just have to watch Lucha Underground instead.

Created by:: Liz Flahive and Carly Mensch
Star: Alison Brie, Betty Gilpin, Marc Maron, Sydelle Noel

The Mae Young Classic

  By

★★★★
“Girlfights.”

The WWE and women’s wrestling have had a fractious relationship over the years. For every two steps forward, there has been one – or, more often, two – backward. But under Executive Vice President of Talent Paul M. Levesque, better known by his ring-name of Triple H, there have been hopeful signs of progress. Perhaps the biggest of late was WWE staging an all-woman tournament this year, featuring 32 wrestlers from 13 different countries. This was named the Mae Young Classic, in honour of one of the field’s pioneers and longest-serving members; she wrestled from 1939 through 2008, and passed away in 2014.

It was a little surprising that both Japan and Mexico, likely the biggest pro wrestling markets outside the US, only had one competitor each (fewer than, say, Scotland or Australia). This could be a result of most existing talent already being under contract to federations in those countries. Otherwise the 32 wrestlers included a surprisingly broad range. There were both veterans and newcomers: Mercedes Martinez has been wrestling since 2000, while Indian Kavita Dalal only started training last year. Similarly, styles represented a broad range: some had MMA backgrounds, others were pure pro wrestlers.

In terms of looks, there was generally a certain “body type”, lean and muscular – though that didn’t quite apply to Scotland’s Piper Niven, billed at five foot five inches, and 207 pounds, though remarkably agile for it. But there was a significant variety in size, ranging from the 5’1″ Kairi Sane, up to those a foot taller (the pic, top, significantly evens this out!). However, as they say, it’s not the size of the dog in the fight, and that was proved frequently true over the 31 matches in the tournament. You could never be sure who would prevail. [Just to be clear: I am entirely aware that all the results were pre-determined. But “good” pro wrestling, like good cinema, is at its most enthralling when it avoids predictability]

One thing I noticed was the particularly direct nature of the episodes. If you watch a typical episode of, say, Monday Night RAW, considerably less than half of each show will be actual, new wrestling. Between the various story-lines, chit-chat in and out of the ring, recaps and so forth, our son may not be far wrong when he calls it “soap-opera on steroids. The Classic was much more streamlined: with typically four bouts per episode, it had to be. Before each, you’d get a minute or so about each competitor, and then it was straight to the in-ring introductions. I was fearing this would end up being some kind of Total Divas-like, bitchpocalypse atrocity: those concerns proved completely unfounded.

It’s a little difficult to review without spoilers, which we were largely able to avoid – like any “real” sport, it’s a lot more fun to watch wrestling when you don’t know the outcome. So I’ll just go with some notes on the five competitors who stood out the most for us, in alphabetical order. Wild horses could not make us reveal whether or not they won any of their matches. :) I will say, it was a heck of a lot of fun, and I’d love for it to become an annual fixture on WWE’s calendar.

  • Shayna Bayzler (USA). Chris described Bayzler as “a female Brock Lesnar,” and that’s likely an accurate comparison. She became the wrestler we loved to hate, mostly for her thoroughly intimidating, take no prisoners attitude. While she’ll need to work on her wrestling technique, which is a little rough, there’s a lot of promise here, particularly as a heel.
  • Jazzy Gabert (Germany). At 6’1″, the tallest competitor, and with her short, platinum blonde hair (seen above), reminded us strongly of Brigitte Nielsen. Another veteran, wrestling since 2001, if you were going purely on who looked the part most impressively, she’d be the winner of the tournament. Only disappointment? She didn’t say, “I must break you…” to her opponents pre-fight.
  • Dakota Kai (New Zealand). Was already signed to a contract to WWE’s developmental show, NXT. Kai’s match was far and away the most-watched first-round contest on YouTube. Her kicks are lethal, many and varied. She looks like she has been teleported straight to the ring from a video-game like Dead or Alive.
  • Mercedes Martinez (USA). You could really tell the depth of her experience, both in terms of ring technique and psychology, and that helped elevate her less well-practiced opponents. Seemed to be playing the “gangster” heel for the purposes of this show, and did so effectively enough to irritate the hell out of Chris during her run. Which was likely the point!
  • Kairi Sane (Japan). Won us over completely with her heart and attitude, as she looked genuinely pleased to be there, and her elbow drop from the top-rope is a thing of wonder. [Typically, wrestlers break their fall somewhat with their legs, but Kairi leads with her elbow. This GIF likely explains it better!] Her first-round contest against Tessa Blanchard might have been the match of the tournament. Here are some highlights.

 

Manami Toyota retires from pro wrestling

  By ,

Manami Toyota is perhaps the greatest wrestler you’ve never heard of – at least, unless you’ve an interest in the Japanese women’s version of the sport, known as joshi puroresu. There, she has been its almost undisputed queen for much of the past three decades. That covers the span from her debut on August 5, 1987, at the age of just 16, through to her farewell show which took place on November 3 in Yokohama’s Daisan Bashi Hall. She was in the vanguard of, and a significant force in, the joshi resurgence which took place during the mid-nineties, when women’s wrestling crossed over beyond its usual audience. That likely peaked with the Big Egg Wrestling Universe cross-promotion show at Tokyo Dome in November 1994. A crowd of more than thirty thousand attended the event, which ran for more than ten hours.

If you’ve only ever seen the WWE Divas, then joshi will come as a shock, with monsters like the aptly-named Aja Kong punting their opponents around the ring with brutal efficiency. Toyota was slightly-built in comparison: billed at 150 pounds, and that likely an exaggeration for marketing purposes. But her bouts against far larger opponents were still credible, because of three main things. First, her incredible technical ability: there’s good reason a video exists on YouTube called “Top 60 Moves of Manami Toyota“! Secondly, her fearless high-flying. for example, I remember a match outside in the rain, where Toyota was still climbing up the light rigging and flinging herself off it. Third, an insane level of stamina. She could wrestle 60 minutes non-stop, and at a pace few wrestlers of either gender could match.

Yet that intensity is what led to her retirement, Toyota increasingly suffering from neck and shoulder issues as a result of the in-ring punishment she both took and dished out. Or, should I say, her second retirement. For Toyota first “quit” due to a silly unspoken rule of the All Japan Wrestling promotion that its women wrestler had to retire at the age of 26, whether they wanted to or not. Toyota would continue for two decades after that point, surviving the fall of AJW and the resulting disintegration of the joshi scene into a slew of smaller, independent promotions. Her feuds and partnerships with the likes of Toshiyo Yamada, Akira Hokuto and Kyoko Inoue remain unmatched, even now. And, of course, Toyota would not go out quietly, wrestling fifty opponents at her retirement show, before then fighting a best-of-three falls match against her designated heiress, Tsukasa Fujimoto.

Legendary pro wrestling writer Dave Meltzer of the Wrestling Observer Newsletter (WON) called Toyota “one of the greatest wrestlers of all-time, regardless of gender,” and awarded 5+ stars to more of her matches than any other woman. Melter was famously stingy with those rankings: few would see more than one in a year. But at the peak of her career and talents, between 1991 and 1995, Toyota was involved in seventeen such matches, including three in one week. She was part of WON’s Match of the Year in both 1992 and 1995, and won named its Most Outstanding Wrestler in 1995. Neither award is divided by gender, meaning she beat all men that year as well. She was just that damn good.

Below, you’ll find a playlist including 11 of the 17 five-star matches. They might help give you some insight as to why many regard her as the greatest of all time.

Bolivia’s Fighting Cholitas

  By ,

Professional wrestling is perhaps more international than you’d expect. While traditional territories – USA, Japan, Mexico and the UK – still remain the powerhouses, there is hardly a country in the world without its own local pro federation. But even I had not heard of Ecuador’s cholita luchadoras. Cholita is a term used for the native women there, usually found at the bottom of the social pyramid, both in terms of wealth and education. So the term translates as the “fighting cholitas“, who use pro wrestling as a way out of poverty, and to help them at least approach the average wage there, which is around $270 per month.

While initially intended purely for local consumption, it has achieved renown, both local and internationally, and become a tourist attraction. Local company “Andean Secrets” – run by one of the cholitas – runs excursions that pick visitors up at their hotel and take them to one of their shows at the Multifunctional Centre in El Alto. Tourists have to pay five times the cost for locals, but the price does get them ringside seats. In style, it’s closest to Mexican lucha libre, with the good girls (technicos) going up against the rudos, who cheat. abuse the audience and collude with a corrupt referee to try and achieve victory. You can generally tell who’s who from the names they choose. There’s an almost standard format to these: Chela la Maldita, Sonia La Simpática, Juanita La Cariñosa (Affectionate), Rosita La Rompecorazones (Heartbreaker) or Silvina La Poderosa (Powerful).

An exception is the matriarch of the cholitas, known as  Carmen Rosa. She was part of the original group of cholitas and one of the three who made it through the training program. She said, “For me, wrestling is my life; it is in my heart. It makes it hard for me to choose between wrestling and my family. They have asked me to stop fighting and sometimes I think about quitting, but I can’t. My heart beats fast at the mere mention of wrestling, or when I go to see a show, not to mention when I am about to enter the ring. There is nothing I love more than wrestling.” But even after a decade, she’s not fully professional: her day job is running her family’s local snack-bar.

That’s par for the course – as another example, Benita La Intocable (the Untouchable, one of the most high-flying of the cholitas) was training to be a nurse. Because the pay received is still peanuts by Western standards – typically no more than thirty dollars for their night’s work – but it’s an improvement on the very limited opportunities available to cholitas, typically as maid or other menial work. For until recently, the indigenous men and women had suffered a long history of discrimination, denied education, health care and public presence. The election in 2006 of the first Bolivian President from their group, Evo Morales, has helped address things, but there’s a reason the cholitas fight in El Alto, not the more prosperous La Paz.

They first entered the ring around the start of the millennium, the idea of local promoter Juan Mamani. Initially intended purely as a gimmick during a period of audience decline – he also considered using midgets – it took off in an unexpected way, with over fifty women showing up for that first open try-out. But after years under Mamani’s thumb, in which the women took the risks, and the associated damage, while his promotion, Titanes del Ring (Titans of the Ring) took the profits, there was a schism. Carmen and others among his top wrestlers left in 2011, starting up their own independent association, Diosas del Ring (Goddesses of the Ring), to gain the fruits of their own efforts. [Mamani allegedly then hired another woman, to play what I guess was Carmen Rosa v2.0!]

It was initially a struggle, with the women struggling to find even a place to train, and some of the defectors subsequently returning to Mamani – a man whom National Geographic once described as “a tall, angular man whom it would be kind to call unfriendly”. But Carmen and her colleagues persisted, and now they’ll get close to a thousand people attending their weekly events. She has become a celebrity, and not just in El Alto or even Bolivia. Carmen has traveled widely as a result, including trip to America and Peru, as well as being brought to London for 2015’s ‘Greatest Spectacle of Lucha Libre’ festival at York Hall.

The most immediate difference any wrestling fan will notice, is the costumes. While in America, wrestlers typically wear a limited amount of tight-fitting clothing, intended not to interfere with their moves, the cholitas come to fight in the traditional native costumes, consisting of multiple layered skirts (typically five or six), and little bowler hats which perch on top of their long, braided hair. [Bonus fact: the angle of the hat indicates marital status] It seems implausible they would be able to do anything requiring significant movement, but you’d be surprised. Also worth noting: the women need particular endurance, due to the altitude. Bolivia’s capital, La Paz, is the highest in the world, and the nearby low-income suburb of El Alto, home of the cholitas, is more elevated still, at over 13,500 feet above sea-level. Simply breathing is hard work, that far up.

The matches are not limited to women vs. women, with the cholitas taking on their male counterparts, as dictated by the storyline. It’s a one of a kind breed of professional wrestling, and a take which goes beyond the first impression of the unique style. For it is sports entertainment, not just based on athletic talent combined with the struggle of “good against evil,” but a version which offers social and political commentary too. Below, you’ll find a playlist of Youtube videos, including both documentaries and other clips, which give a bit more insight into the world of the fighting cholitas.

“Sometimes my daughters ask why I insist on doing this. It’s dangerous; we have many injuries, and my daughters complain that wrestling does not bring any money into the household. But I need to improve every day. Not for myself, for Veraluz, but for the triumph of Yolanda, an artist who owes herself to her public.”
  — Yolanda La Amorosa

GLOW: season one

  By

★★★★
“Fully deserves a GLOWing review.”

I have only vague memories of the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling, which never quite made the same cultural impact on the far side of the Atlantic as in their native country. I seem to recall seeing a couple of episodes, deciding it was a bit crap, and then slapping in a Megumi Kudo barbed-wire death match tape instead. But my interest was rekindled by the wonderful documentary, GLOW: The Story of the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling, and it appears I may not have been the only one. [Incidentally, we re-watched the doc after finishing the series; it’s still very much recommended, and likely even better as a parallel version to this] The creators of the show were inspired by the same film to create their take, a heavily fictionalized telling of the show’s origin, from auditions to their first TV taping.

It focuses on Ruth (Brie), a largely failed actress, who goes to the audition out of desperation. There, she meets the motley crew of other women, whom director Sam Sylvia (Maron) – a veteran of B-movies such as Blood Disco – has to try to lick into shape. The main dramatic tension is between Ruth and Debbie (Gilpin), a soap-opera actress, with whose husband Ruth had an affair. Their spat inspires Sam to recruit Debbie, who would provide much needed star-power – but convincing her to get on board is an issue in itself. And there’s then the issue of her severely strained relationship with Ruth. While this may give their in-ring conflict credibility, it comes at a cost.

This is a great deal of fun, striking a very impressive balance between the drama, comedy and – to my surprise – the wrestling elements. For the show does a particularly good job of explaining both the appeal of the sports entertainment in question, and the work that goes in to making it look good. Here, it probably helps that real wrestlers were involved: Chavo Guerrero was the main consultant, and his uncle, Mando Guerrero, helped train the original GLOW ladies in the eighties. Fans will also spot John Morrison/Johnny Mundo, Brodus Clay, Carlito and Joey Ryan in various roles. It’s not at all a parody of the sport; to a significant degree, the original GLOW felt like that. But it also does extremely well at linking the wrestlers and the characters they play, and showing how the latter evolve and develop out of the former.

So Ruth becomes “Zora the Destroyer”, a Soviet antagonist to Debbie’s All-American “Liberty Belle”, whose frosty face-offs mirror the women’s real-life grievances. It’s these, along with the other characters, who are the show’s greatest strength: even relatively minor supporting ones are deftly sketched, and feel like real people, rather than caricatures. Special credit to Maron, who takes a character that could be a real bastard (far and away the most significant man) and gives him depth and humanity. Yes, he can be that bastard – but he knows what he’s doing, and genuinely cares about making the show the best it can be, even if he has to tread on a few toes to get there. Having been on the fringes of both B-cinema and independent wrestling, we’re aware of how true to life that is, and based on the doc, it doesn’t appear too different from Matt Cimber, the show’s actual director.

The two lead actresses did virtually all their action – there was occasional use of stand-ins, but mostly for reasons of fatigue. Brie said, “Wrestling matches are meant to be done once a day for maybe 20 minutes. But then we would shoot them for 10 to 12 hours so our stunt doubles became our tag team that we could tag in when we needed a rest.” Otherwise, it’s almost all the actual women, and that adds a level of authenticity to proceedings that helps. If no-one’s going to mistake the pair for Manami Toyota and Akira Hokuto, they’re perfectly credible, given the original show’s undeniable limitations in the area of actual wrestling. 

If you’re a child of the 80’s – and those were my teenage years – you’ll be in heaven, as this is a true period piece, from the music, through fashion, to things as basic as telephones. With wires. Attached to the wall. [It was a dark, dark time…] There is an occasional tendency to drift into feminist showboating, and some of the off-GLOW drama feels more like it comes from one of Debbie’s soaps. Otherwise, this is near-perfect, and certainly the best truly original series which Netflix have produced to date.

Created by:: Liz Flahive and Carly Mensch
Star: Alison Brie, Betty Gilpin, Marc Maron, Sydelle Noel