Misunderstood Masterpieces 7.15.08: The Wrestler

Posted by Will Helm on 07.15.2008

...or, Verne Gagne Lives Vicariously Through Ed Asner

Though wrestling itself and the grappling arts date back to antiquity, the variant of the sport known as "professional wrestling" finds its origins much more recently, specifically the late 19th century. As traveling carnivals became common throughout North America and Europe, many of these roadshows featured a strongman who, along with feats of strength and endurance, would often challenge other strongmen or even members of the audience to best him in a grappling contest. Eventually, these contests developed their own form and rules – and I use that term loosely – and became known as "catch wrestling," a callback to the tradition of rough-and-tumble "catch-as-catch-can wrestling."

In time, these athletic contests became a spectacle unto themselves as more and more practitioners appeared around the world. As such, the sport and business of "professional wrestling," was born, as – unlike amateur wrestling – the athletes wrestled for pay and their matches were promoted by entrepreneurs and businessmen trying to get the best payoff for all involved through ticket and, later, merchandise sales. Though the wrestlers got the glory most of the time, the promoters largely built the business of "professional wrestling" on their backs. Without promoters, the National Wrestling Alliance never would have existed, giving the United States a – disputable – common champion. "Jess" McMahon's Capitol Wrestling Corporation would evolve into the World Wrestling Entertainment conglomerate. Even more modern day promoters like Eastern/Extreme Championship Wrestling's Tod Gordon and Paul Heyman would change the business further, heralding the ubiquitous popularity of professional wrestling in the late '90s.

As is evident, promoters are the unsung heroes of the professional wrestling business, but one man elected to bring promoters to the fore and celebrate their hard work in making professional wrestling what it is. That man is one of the founders – and longtime champion – of the Upper Midwest's American Wrestling Association, Verne Gagne. In 1958, through a convoluted series of events, Verne Gagne became the disputed N.W.A. champion; two years later, due to the controversial origin of his reign, Verne Gagne and his business partner Wally Karbo broke from the N.W.A. and, in time, formed the American Wrestling Association, which Verne Gagne would reign over the A.W.A. as promoter and champion for many years; perhaps these experiences led Verne Gagne to try his hand at co-producing a film, conveniently enough about a professional wrestling promoter. Released in 1974, and inexplicably titled The Wrestler -- because, I suppose, "The Promoter" would've just sounded odd – this film featured Verne Gagne and other stars of the American Wrestling Association – some long before they achieved fame elsewhere – acting alongside film and television veteran Ed Asner in a tale that would pull back the curtain and look behind the scenes of the wrestling business . . . while still keeping the facade that wrestling is indeed real. It's a worked shoot, brother . . . but is it a Misunderstood Masterpiece? Let's find out!

In front of a blue screen at the Cow Palace – arguably the strangest-named arena ever, some guy interviews Larry "The Axe" Hennig about his upcoming bout with the current champion of some unnamed wrestling promotion. Apparently, Larry isn't happy, as his opponent is nothing but a coward . . . but, as Larry learns in the match, he's also the great Mike Bullard (Gagne), master of male-pattern baldness and a wicked dropkick. Perhaps as REVENGE for the verbal assault earlier, Bullard puts Larry out with a sleeper hold after softening him up with the dropkick. Yay?

After the match, hapless, downtrodden promoter Frank Bass (Asner) appears out of nowhere to provide exposition on the specific issues of the wrestling business as he recounts the origins of mysterious Mike Bullard. Apparently, according to Frank, Bullard excelled at every sport ever – including figure skating, presumably – but he decided to set his sights on professional wrestling. I guess no other sport pays as well as professional wrestling, then. Or maybe it's the sweet jazz that brought Bullard to the business, as whenever he wrestles – as seen through an inexplicable fish-eye lens – he's accompanied by a touch of fusion. Miles Davis was a huge fan of the squared circle, after all. Later, to end another bout, Bullard pulls out his devastating TWO MOVES OF DOOM – the dropkick and the sleeper – to take out another hapless competitor as the opening credits go wild . . . with a theme that sounds like the love child of Star Wars and Rocky, but predates both. Perhaps John Williams and Bill Conti love this movie.

Elsewhere, in a very colorful office – ah, the décor of the early '70s, "Crusher" Lisowski and Dick "The Bruiser" show up to molest a HOT CHICK secretary (Elaine Giftos) and mug for the camera. Is it possible to "break kayfabe" in a movie? If so, did Crusher and Bruiser just do that? Anyway, in an adjacent office, Frank is nervous because Crusher and Bruiser are going to Japan; before they head off to the Land of the Rising Sun to crush and bruise, respectively, the two grapplers invite Frank to join them in a steam bath. Umm . . . OK. Just to clear up any doubts about their intentions, Crusher and Bruiser make sure to sexually harass the HOT CHICK secretary on the way out, because they're real men and real men love steam baths. After Crusher and Bruiser take their leave with masculinity intact, Frank gets a call from some woman and he agrees to come over for a visit. Whoa . . . is this a Frank Bass booty-call? Go Frank, get busy. Before he leaves for some nookie, Frank makes sure to namedrop a bunch of wrestling promoters just to remind the viewer what this movie is about. Even though it's still titled "The Wrestler."

Unfortunately for Frank, the call wasn't from a flame looking for some clandestine lovin', but merely from the champ's shrewish wife, Betty Bullard (Sarah Miller). It seems that Betty is worried for her husband's safety because some guy somewhere died in the ring recently and she doesn't want to see that happen to Mike. Frank, ever the businessman, tells Betty that everything's cool . . . and if Mike dies, they'll make a fortune on memorial merchandising. Not that any wrestling promotion would do that, ever. Somehow, to make her case further, Betty turns on a conveniently placed film projector – OK, now the booty call starts! – and shows Frank footage of Pedro Morales and Dory Funk. Whoa . . . if this is Betty's idea of foreplay, she's got some really strange fetishes. Or she's just a ring rat, through and through. Perhaps proving my theory, Betty starts freaking out at the sight of the two young, sweaty grapplers plying their trade; Frank tries to calm her down by telling her there's money to be made – he's pimping her out! You're my hero, Frank! – and he tells her that her husband is awfully stubborn as well. I sense a murderous tryst afoot.

Strangely, it seems that Frank is the one who ends up dead, as he lies prone in a steam bath. Ah . . . Mike knew all along and sent Bruiser and Crusher to do his dirty work. Damn you, Mike Bullard! Though Frank appears dead, the sudden appearance of some old guy's fat, greasy gut awakens Frank from his seeming eternal slumber. The old guy, just as all old, greasy guys do, has a proposition for Frank because he's got some "action" he'd like to share with Frank. Don't bend over, Frank! Luckily for his anal virginity, Frank's Spidey-sense starts tingling, causing him to rebuff the old greasy guy's advances. The old greasy guy doesn't like taking "no" for an answer, so he pledges to play rough. Ooh, kinky! Alas, before the old guy can break out the ball gags and cats-o'-nine-tales, Crusher and Bruiser show up out of nowhere to fight off the old guy with a massage because Frank's their bitch and they're not interested in sharing.

Back at the office, Frank eats fried chicken – maybe all the man grease put him in the mood for it – before some other guy (Lord James Blears) arrives for a meeting. Frank and the other guy plan on bringing up a contender for Mike's title and the other guy reveals that he's got a British prospect just right for that role. Apparently, like Mike Bullard before him, the British guy – by the name of Billy Taylor (Billy Robinson) – is awesome at everything ever and a champion around the world . . . except for Minneapolis, which is Mike Bullard's domain. St. Paul, meanwhile, is sadly forgotten. The other guy's hype piques Frank's interest, so they make a deal to get Mike and Billy together, which is good, because Billy is conveniently in the United States.

At a random gym, Frank goes to see Billy work out – awkward! – and he offers a bout with Nick Bockwinkel to Billy, who gladly accepts, mainly because Mike – Bockwinkel's usually opponent – is hanging out in Germany. In addition, Frank and Billy plan on going to Chicago together; maybe they can take a steam bath together once they're there. Beforehand, however, Frank returns to his office and does stereotypical promoter stuff; his HOT CHICK secretary, meanwhile, is curious about what's going on behind the scenes. Frank, who's remarkably loose-lipped for someone with his amount of power, provides yet more exposition, catching the HOT CHICK secretary – and any straggling audience members – up with what's been going on so far. Unfortunately for Frank, who thinks that Billy is "t3h n3w h0tn3ss," his HOT CHICK secretary is a total Mike Bullard mark – ooh . . . insider terminology – and defends the champ wholeheartedly.

Somewhere, perhaps just because the footage was lying around, "Superstar" Billy Graham cuts a promo – insider term #2 – on Wahoo McDaniel and stresses – many, many times – that he's going to bring the pain against his Injun opponent. Unsurprisingly, Wahoo chops Graham into oblivion in their "Indian Strap Match" before winning the match outright. Later, back in the locker room, Mike Bullard has a physical while Billy Graham freaks out about a gaping head wound. Meanwhile, Frank and Billy bond a bit while Mike wrestles in front of his patented fish-eye lens. For reasons unexplained, the view makes Frank and Billy uncomfortable; maybe the accidentally got "partial view" seats and they have columns jammed between their legs. Back in the ring, Mike whips his opponent out of the ring, but, somehow, the opponent becomes Ray Stevens – they call him the "Streak" -- who kills Mike with a kneedrop to the neck! After the match, the announcer gets his "serious" voice going and, strangely, reveals that the dead man isn't Mike at all, but some random guy also suffering from male-pattern baldness. Eh . . . it's probably all a "work" anyway; the dead guy will be back for REVENGE in a few weeks under a mask and after his tour of Japan.

After the show, three members of the local media meet with Frank about the night's events; Frank is enraged because none of them have the respect to mourn fake Mike. Somehow, Frank channels his rage into a diatribe against the media's bias against the sport of professional wrestling because IT'S STILL REAL TO HIM! Though Frank does eschew the entertainment end of the business – and, judging by the movie so far, that's very true, he believes in the sport and will defend it to the death. The gathered members of the media, far more sly than Frank had anticipated, go all "smark" on him, leaving Frank no choice but to pontificate on capitalism and the American Way. Yup . . . those reporters are nothing but damned dirty Commies. Moments later, however, Frank proves he has a kind heart under his pudgy, hairy exterior when he gives the nicest reporter a scoop regarding Billy's planned match with Mike. Dum-dum-DUM!

Back at the office, Frank spends some time with his HOT CHICK secretary, who thanklessly did all of Frank's dirty work while he was gone. Unfortunately for Frank, though the HOT CHICK secretary did nearly everything for him, he still has to placate Mike's wife, who calls because she's freaking out again. Listen, Frank; I'm sure you can get one of your business' "doctors" to write up a Valium prescription for Betty. It's just that easy. After finally calming down Betty, Frank then learns that Mike wants a date with him . . . over tennis. Somehow, perhaps through his Spidey-sense, he also discerns that his HOT CHICK secretary slipped up and spilled the beans on Billy. Figuratively, not literally. Frank, now a big ball of rage, ignores the HOT CHICK secretary's pleas for forgiveness as he reveals that he just wants to go to China . . . complete with a stereotypical Chinese music interlude in the background. Ah . . . there's nothing like the cultural insensitivity of the '70s.

Sadly, instead of the Orient – dammit! Now it's infecting me too, the scene shifts to a random roadhouse where Dusty Rhodes calls Frank for advice. Frank, unhappy with Dusty's antics on the road, gives him a lecture about his and his partner Dick Murdoch's behavior. Dusty, nonplussed by Frank's browbeating, joins Murdoch at the bar for a friendly, peaceful beer. The calm scene is ruined, however, by some local sot, who decides that it's a great idea to pick on Dick Murdoch for no particular reason. The drunk even has the audacity to spill Dusty's and Dick's beers, a capital offense in some locales. Remarkably, Dusty and Dick decide that discretion is the better part of valor, so they settle into a booth to continue their conversation about metaphysical phenomenology. Alas, before Dusty and Dick can come to a treatise, Odd Job (Harold Sakata) and some other Asian guy bust into the bar – accompanied by stereotypical Asian music – looking for trouble. While the drunk cackles in the background, Odd Job and his cohort mess with Dusty and Dick, laying down a challenge to test their wrestling skill against the Asian's feared KARATE! Dusty and Dick, much to their credit, play it cool . . . until the bartender gets himself knocked out, cutting off the two grapplers' flow of fine libations. At that moment, Dusty and Dick decide it's "go time" and they fight the Asians into submission; just to add insult to probable injury, Dusty and Dick steal the Asians' bowlers before pouring beer in the drunk's top hat – who wears a top hat anyway other than archetypal drunks? – and placing it on his head like a crown of shame.

Sometime later, Frank and Mike play tennis together . . . badly. Federer or Nadal they're not. After the match, they chat about a big show Frank and some other promoters have in the works, a so-called "Super Bowl of Wrestling." Mike wants to be part of the show but he's paranoid that he won't get his shot due to Frank's preference for a new protégé. Ooh . . . TENSION! In order to scout his possible successor, Mike tells Frank that he wants to come out of hiding to see Billy take Bockwinkel. To that end, the scene instantaneously shifts to the match, as Billy and Bockwinkel face off in front of a room full of bored schoolchildren. Though Mike is impressed with Billy's skills, the kids aren't. They're just bloodthirsty rabble, I'm sure. Or ROH-bots. Bockwinkel, as per his particular idiom, performs some shady maneuvers in the ring, which Frank doth protest. Frank's distraction, conveniently, allows Billy to hit Bockwinkel with a butterfly suplex – this official move of England, as it seems every English wrestler has it in his or her repertoire – for the win! Billy Taylor FTW~! After the match, Frank tells all the kids in attendance to become professional wrestlers, though he forgets to tell them that it's possible only with three easy payments of $29.95 to Frank Bass Incorporated.

Backstage, Mike diplomatically chats up Billy and recruits the plucky young stud to work with him on his farm, "training rookies." Oh yeah, Mike has murder in mind, I'm sure. Later, Mike heads home and watches film of Billy with his wife, because she's into that kind of thing. She wants him to quit wrestling, but he wants the big payoff and to be the "Super Champ" after the "Super Bowl." Apparently, Betty isn't the brightest bulb around as she doesn't realize that the more money Mike has, the more money she'll get when she divorces him. Silly Betty. Betty isn't happy with Mike's assertions, so he makes a deal to quit after his next loss; remarkably, Betty still isn't appeased. Sadly, Mike doesn't have the Sudetenland to give her as a peace offering.

At the "farm," Mike shows his rookies pictures of wrestlers they have to assassinate in order for him to become "Super Champ." Seriously, this is like a CIA briefing. Later, perhaps as punishment for an unrevealed transgression, Mike forces young wrestler Mike Graham to face off against gold-medalist Dan Gable for his own amusement. The rookies, perhaps fearing for their safety, approve of the torture. The rookies must not have approved well enough, as Mike moves them for the ring for a little more "training." This time, he tells his new sidekick Billy to make an example out of Jim Brunzell and, alas, he doesn't have B. Brian Blair to help him out. Perhaps he was too busy trying not to be humbled in the old country way by the Iron Sheik. Billy twists Jim Brunzell up like a pretzel before Mike decides the young Killer Bee has had enough. Next, Mike singles out Wilbur Snyder to take some manhandling from Eddie Graham – who is Mike Graham's own father; Mike Bullard is a sick, sick bastard for forcing him to watch his own son be tortured – while he brainwashes those in attendance with the fake history of wrestling, wherein Henry VIII beat the King of France 2-out-of-3 falls and "The Godfather of Our Country" George Washington – "all aboard ye olde ho train!" – fought Abe "Emancipator" Lincoln to a draw at Valley Forge. Or something like that.

That evening, Billy and Mike have dinner together with the rest of Mike's family. After they trade a few war stories, Mike reveals that he's mulling retirement, probably just to keep his neurotic wife from freaking out again. After dinner, Billy hightails it to Frank's office, where Frank orders his HOT CHICK secretary around before flying off to St. Louis for a meeting. Before Billy can get a word in edgewise, Frank leaves, leaving Billy behind to realize he has no shot with the HOT CHICK secretary because she's been giving Frank the goo-goo eyes the whole time. Sucks to be you, Billy.

Over in St. Louis, Frank hangs out by the pool with no shirt and yells at Vince McMahon, Sr., in front of a bunch of other promoters. And, to this day, Ed Asner is persona non grata in the WWE for that reason. Vince McMahon, Sr., to his credit, tries to make Frank an offer he can't refuse, so Frank makes a match between Billy and Ray Stevens so that Billy can prove himself to the rest of the promoters and be the face of the "Super Bowl of Wrestling." To that end, the film itself tries to prove that Billy is a legitimate contender because, during his match with Stevens, he gets his own jazz-funk and fish-eye lens. Ooh . . . he's equal to Mike! So sayeth the cinematographer! Speaking of Mike, he watches worriedly from the wings as Billy finishes off Stevens with a backbreaker and the crowd goes mild. Sigh . . . foreign-born babyfaces never get over.

That night, some chick and her cleavage sing in a bar while Frank and his HOT CHICK secretary watch intently. While the chanteuse croons away, Frank and his HOT CHICK secretary then eat at a very rickety table and chat about wrestling and their steak. Apparently, the HOT CHICK secretary, who inexplicably thinks that Frank is so dreamy, believes the conversation to be one long, convoluted pick-up line . . . until Frank starts going into the specific vagaries of professional-wrestling promotion. Ah . . . smell the excitement! Before Frank can, in fact, take a whiff of his HOT CHICK secretary's excitement, the old greasy guy and his thugs show up to ruin the mood. Though the old greasy guy talks with Frank in code, it's still painfully obvious just what he's inferring. Frank, upset that the very legitimacy of professional wrestling is being insulted by this miscreant, stands to defend himself and his business, but the greasy old guy blatantly threatens Frank in public, which has to go against the mob's unwritten ethics.

Perhaps to take the edge off the night's abrupt end, Frank and the HOT CHICK secretary retire to her place, where he starts complaining about his job again. Wow . . . it's like they're already married. Maybe to shut Frank up, the HOT CHICK secretary slips into something a little more comfortable for him and reveals that she wants more than a business relationship because she's got a thing for portly wrestling promoters. Well, at least she doesn't watch wrestling films to get off like Betty Bullard. Frank, however, ever the professional, refuses his HOT CHICK secretary's advances due to a painful bout of self-loathing. Frank, unhappily, sees himself out, but, on the doorstep, he remembers that he does want some of his HOT CHICK secretary's coffee . . . if coffee is a euphemism for "hot lovin'." Ah . . . so that's where Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas got it from.

Back in the office, Billy states emphatically that he wants to face off against Mike for the title. Frank, meanwhile, washes his hands of the situation – probably because he's getting some now and doesn't care about anything else – and tells Billy to talk to Mike personally. Conveniently, Mike shows up as if it were scripted that way and Billy lays down his challenge. Mike, ever the gamesman, isn't cool with the idea because Billy is a nobody. Frank, trying to outwit his champion, reveals that he has a solution to that problem, but Mike is one step ahead because he's a douche and fakes an ankle injury to throw off Frank and Billy. Billy, unsurprisingly, isn't happy with this development and neither is Frank, so they go to Plan B. As part of Plan B, apparently, Dusty and Dick insult Crusher and Bruiser and then Mike watches on television as Frank sets up a match between the champion and Billy, against Mike's wishes. Dum-dum-DUM! Of course, it's all part of Mike's evil scheme anyway. All is revealed when Frank meets with Mike, who's busy pumping iron in his backyard. Mike, evil genius, plays mind games with Frank while acting innocent the whole time.

Finally, in Chicago, people buy tickets and eat popcorn because the big match between Mike and Billy is that night! While random pilots wander through the crowd, those in attendance freak out for no apparent reason. Meanwhile, Frank stalks the halls and meets with the old greasy guy, who has the HOT CHICK secretary in his clutches as insurance! Then, against the HOT CHICK secretary's protestations, the old greasy guy has his goons rough up Frank a bit, just to make sure he knows that Mike has to lose the bout. And, if not, Frank dies, as per the old greasy guy's particular idiom. Before the old greasy guy's goons can move on to the second half of their lesson, Bruiser and Crusher show up out of nowhere to pummel the goons and assert their dominance over Frank yet again. Moments later, Mike, just to be a jerk, pops his head into the room when the coast is clear.

Moments later, out in the ring, Billy climbs into the squared circle and Mike soon follows. Once both combatants take their places, the ref, doing an anachronistic Rocky Balboa impression – as that followed The Wrestler, after all – while explaining the rules to the opponents. The bell rings and toothless fans watch the match in a daze. Billy, to his credit, puts the champ in a full nelson, but Mike, who is awesome at everything – except tennis and keeping his hair – counters with a hammerlock. The wrestlers break and circle each other like predators on the vast plains of the Serengeti. Like those same wild beasts, Mike and Billy engage in a test of strength, which Billy segues into a leglock and then an abdominal stretch. Whoa . . . Mike is getting pwned out there. Finally, Billy finishes his combination with a drop toehold, much to Betty's consternation. Billy, sensing victory in his grasp, nails Mike with a beautiful butterfly suplex, but it doesn't finish the job! Oh no! He's going to start Miking Up! Apparently, after that near deathblow, Mike is now invulnerable – hmm, that does sound familiar – as he hits Billy with a dropkick with such power that it knocks Billy directly into the closing credits. Wait . . . so Mike embarrassed Billy, disobeyed his wife, and pretty much signed Frank's death warrant just for his own personal glory? What a douche!

To be quite honest, as mentioned earlier, I have no idea why this film is titled The Wrestler. Evidently, the main character of Frank Bass isn't a wrestler at all, but a promoter. Meanwhile, if Mike Bullard is to be the titular wrestler, that's rather an interesting turn, as he's nothing but a stubborn, self-centered, calculating jerk throughout the whole movie. And what a movie this is. Though it may be fun to see scores of famous wrestlers in and before their respective primes, that's where the entertainment begins and ends. Perhaps due to the almost episodic nature of the story, the oft-wacky background music, the less-than-ideal video quality, or the presence of Ed Asner, The Wrestler feels almost like a made-for-TV movie. In addition, much of the movie seems like a cliché in and of itself, not limited to the hackneyed relationship between Frank and his HOT CHICK secretary, the old greasy guy's threats, and the repeated appearances of Bruiser and Crusher as convenient deus ex machina. I could say that The Wrestler, for its American Wrestling Association connections, is an interesting piece of wrestling history, but as a movie, it's merely another Misunderstood Masterpiece.

Join me next week as I bring another wrestling movie, this time with a bigger budget, bigger stars, and a really big cage. See you then!