To the shock of no one in America, the Hulk Hogan and Ric Flair press conference to promote the Australian tour ended in a scuffle, with Flair leaving a bloodied Hogan laying. Pretty basic stuff in the eyes of the jaded smart fan, yet for some reason this was a major news event in Australia, where it was taken at least moderately serious enough to make the nightly news, where they went back and forth over whether or not it was actually a legitimate fight. That’s kind of awesome.
Let’s face it, the “real” element of professional wrestling has been missing for some time now. Heck, most Monday nights, we’re treated to more comedy skits than actual pro-wrestling. Apparently, somewhere along the line the idea that because the fans know it’s just a show, there’s no need to act legitimate came into play. Now, I’m not saying that we need to go back to full blown kayfabe, with heels and faces sleeping in different hotels and riding in different cars and all that. That would be overkill. And can you imagine trying to kayfabe away Hornswoggle or the Boogeyman? Sure, the argument could me made that gimmicks like that wouldn’t exist in a kayfabe 2009 WWE, but before kayfabe died we were getting midget clowns, wrestling trashmen and hockey players, and Papa Shango. Oh, and this guy you might of heard of called the Undertaker. In fact, one of the reasons kayfabe even died out was because the cartoon nature of the gimmicks made it impossible to believe in.
For a gimmick like the Undertaker to survive in a post kayfabe era is rare, and a testament to the talents of the man behind the eye shadow. And obviously, it isn’t a necessary ingredient to a successful product. After all, the Attitude era pretty much took place without a single shred of actual kayfabe, while still allowing for Val Venis and the miraculous birth of a rubber hand. No, what I’m talking about is the idea that pro-wrestling is a work of theatre featuring a legitimate athletic activity.
Please note that I did not say a competition. There is no way that pro-wrestling could ever hold up the illusion of being a legitimate sporting event ever again. That “competition” aspect of the business needs to be part of the illusion. Which is fine. What I think would help, however, is a little more of the “is this or isn’t it” mood that the Flair/Hogan press conference created, even for just a hot minute. And I’m not talking about Vince Russo style “is this or isn’t it”, where everything is for real (but really fake)… except this! Which is fake (but really real, and by that I mean fake)! In his own way, Russo took the idea of breaking kayfabe and “shooting”, and made it as cartoonishly nonsensical as anything in the early 90s WWF.
Now that the post-Attitude era is quickly speeding towards similar cartoon territory, the public perception that Vince McMahon so desperately wants to make legitimate, is in danger of retreating in the exact opposite direction he wants it to go. Regardless of if the public perception is of a trashy violent fake sport or stupid children’s fake sport, it’s really the lack of realism prevents any upward momentum in the public eye. Not because pro-wrestling needs to be a real sport, but because it needs to be real theatre.
So how does that tie into kayfabe? The reason kayfabe worked for so long is because it was pure theatre. Theatre is meant to draw the live audience in, to make them forget that what they are seeing is fiction. The term most often used is “willing suspension of disbelief”, a term that originated in the 1800s in regards to poetry and literature. In those times, the weight was on the artist to create something that would create a truth for the audience to believe in, but in modern times, more often than not, that weight has been put on the audiences shoulders. This has never been more apparent than in the world of professional wrestling. The loss of kayfabe has progressed so far that it’s now a loss of truth for the audience. These days, even when we get an angle or storyline that feels “real”, the next week we promptly get a follow up that drags us right back down to Toontown. Even in the Attitude era, there was at least a weekly consistency with the angles that had that “real” factor to them. But now it feels like that there is no sustained reality to believe in.
And that’s what was so great about the Hogan/Flair confrontation in Australia. In front of an intimate audience, they did a traditional wrestling angle, and played it completely, utterly real, without beating the idea that it was real into everyone’s head with a hammer. They kayfabed it. And their audience, despite knowing better, bought into it. Which is exactly what is supposed to happen.
Now if only it could happen more often for the audiences.
I’ll be skipping next week’s column due to Thanksgiving, but I’ll see you all the week after that.
Have a good one.
Wrestling in this kind of discussion can best be described as “the Santa Claus of performance art”; you think it’s real until you’re about nine or ten or so until either A) You use your big-boy thoughts and logic shoves its way in, or B) Your parents sit you down and their first sentence with “There’s something we need to tell you…”
Good article, Chris. The points on “suspension of disbelief” were accurate and represent what Kayfabe-era wrestling fomented and what the post-Attitude era wrestling has downplayed (to its detriment, in my opinion).
I will take issue with just a couple of points, however.
I think there’s a difference between actual “kayfabe” and what most people think of as the “kayfabe era”. Kayfabe cannot seriously be considered to have been a part of wrestling past, say, 1980 or so. Kayfabe itself died long before the “kayfabe era” ended.
Most people equate the end of the kayfabe era to either the beginning of the Attitude Era and the advent of the internet or to the results of the McMahon steroid trial — where Vince basically admitted officially that wrestling wasn’t real.
But as a matter of public record, kayfabe died off long before then. There were “exposes” of the wrestling business dating all the way back to the 1940s and most news organizations acknowledged that the spectacle was “fake” throughout the ’70s — a decade before John Stossel’s hyped report.
Even so, lots of oddball, cartoonish characters were able to thrive during the era of true kayfabe. Back when people (mostly) believed this thing had a bit of sport to it.
Just to give a short list…
Brute Bernard, Skull Murphy, Great Kabuki, Kimala, Haystacks Calhoun, The Mongols, Mongolian Stomper, The Sheik (of Araby), Abdullah the Butcher…
and that’s not even the oddest of the bunch. There was like a Tarzan Kid and Ricky Starr — the ballet dancing wrestler.
All during a period when whether or not wrestling was real was a topic of actual controversy.
If you want to see how “cartoonish” gimmicks can survive in the post-kayfabe era, look no further than Chikara. Or to stars like Delirious.
Most people don’t watch wrestling to smark about how fake it all is. Most people watch to be entertained. Suspension of disbelief is part of being entertained. So people will willing give that to the product if it just maintains a modicum of internal consistency and at least a middling respect for the audience’s intelligence.
I mark out for the Ant Colony as much as I mark out for Bryan Danielson. It’s wrestling.
If the WWE creative team just came to grips with that, I think it would be a true “first step is half-way there” moment.
Good article.
I think you should have included a link to the press conference and the media hype (links in the forums)- Australians can be quite, I don’t know, “stupid” some times. And I am a proud Aussie. And yet when I tell people I wrestle they say it’s fake and always ask – How do you get blood capsules to break on your head like that? We even had a media commentator mention how fake the blood looked and the capsules thing after the Hogan/Flair “brawl”.
Sigh. It’s times like this when I wonder if Australians have really grown up as a nation.
I still hear the same old problem that wrestling is fake but i know the real answer to this, that it isn`t. Thanks for the review.