Netflix’s Vince McMahon Doc Won’t Let Him Get Away

P.Professional wrestling has always had a unique relationship with the truth. The most obvious example of this mercurial link is kayfabe, the efforts of performers to present everything that happens in the ring as 100% true and the agreement of spectators to accept it, but in reality the phenomenon is fine beyond the square circle.

As author David Shoemaker says in the second episode of Netflix’s new documentary series Mr. McMahon“Nothing that anyone involved in the struggle tells you should be taken as fact.”

Since professional wrestling’s beginnings as a carnival attraction, performers and behind-the-scenes personnel have misled the media, fans, and even themselves for purposes ranging from harmless to sinister. Some people no longer know where their character ends and real life begins. Promoters exaggerate their attributes and obfuscate their issues to make more money, solidify their legacy, and avoid the fallout of any wrongdoing. WWE founder and figurehead Vince McMahon was particularly good at this. He even managed to bounce back from his first retirement as CEO and Chairman of WWE amid allegations of sexual misconduct in 2022 before a lawsuit filed by former employee Janel Grant, alleging that McMahon subjected her to sexual assault, trafficking, physical violence and “extreme cruelty”. and degradation” led to his resignation, once again, at the end of January 2024.

It’s not easy to honestly and thoroughly cover any aspect of this business when you have to constantly navigate everything above. It’s even more difficult when your subject involves a company as dedicated to controlling its image and massaging its history as WWE has been in its 45-year history (or 70-plus years, if you look at it). counts its pre-WWF marks). origins). Some sports writers, including people featured in Mr. McMahonhave made valiant and valuable efforts to produce serious reporting on the subject. The Vice TV series The Dark Side of the Ring has made decent progress outside of WWE’s reach in the five seasons released since 2019. The show’s talking heads, a mix of wrestlers, promoters and pundits, can’t resist a certain degree of self -mythology, but it produced inquisitive looks. during serious incidents involving WWE, including the horrific annihilation of Chris Benoit’s family and the infamous “Plane Ride From Hell”.

Productions that have gained a certain degree of access to society have not been able to go very far. Even acclaimed films like Beyond the carpetAnd Hitman Hart: Fighting the Shadowsboth released in the late 1990s, offer only a fleeting glimpse behind the scenes of the company. Most current “factual” content involving WWE is produced by WWE itself, which has resulted in many rose-tinted celebrity profiles and pivotal moments.

When WWE announced in 2020 that it had sold a multi-part documentary series about embattled WWE co-founder and figurehead Vince McMahon with The ringtone‘s Bill Simmons as executive producer and Fire And Tiger KingUnder the direction and production of Chris Smith, there was little reason to believe they would have any more chance of penetrating the palace walls. Simmons and Smith are respected journalists and filmmakers, respectively, with a proven track record. But nothing in the early days of this particular project suggested they were up to the task of the WWE machine. Simmons’ previous collaboration with WWE Studios, the 2018 HBO documentary film, didn’t help. Andrew the Giantalthough well done, was not particularly impactful. The fact that WWE President and Chief Revenue Officer Nick Khan raved about a rough cut of the series, calling it “out of this world, incredible” during a Q3 2021 earnings call , was also not promising. Few experts in the field or fans familiar with how WWE works – myself included – expected Simmons and Smith to be able to take on the insular WWE Universe.

Judging by Mr. McMahonInterviews with his key subject and his most vocal yes-men, like Terry “Hulk Hogan” Bollea and WWE Executive Director Bruce Pritchard – the majority of which were filmed before the latest misconduct allegations sexual assault against McMahon – no one inside The circle thought they could too. This is perhaps the series’ greatest asset. Years of softball questions for whitewashed productions appear to have left McMahon ill-prepared for even the most rudimentary journalism. He blithely boasts and fabricates, fudges easily refutable details like the number of spectators, puts forward fallacious arguments (he doesn’t believe that Mark Calaway, aka Undertaker, suffered a concussion during his Wrestlemania 30 match against Brock Lesnar and suggests that the star’s many physical symptoms were actually a traumatic response to having to lose), and smugly states that he is working with the team while he talks to them as if everyone involved is him would show sympathy and no one would consider fact-checking or following up. All Simmons and Smith need to do to make this footage more than a hollow, chatty tribute to McMahon are the fundamentals of their work. And they do.

It’s impossible to guess what the tone of the series might have been before the sexual abuse allegations against McMahon, which are referenced in several episodes and discussed bluntly in the finale, shut down production and shifted the focus in 2022. But the version that exists is far from the blown plays that fans of the league know. (In another departure from the formula, WWE Studios is no longer associated with the production.) Throughout the six-episode series, the Mr. McMahon The team gives their main subject the opportunity to tell his side of his story, starting with his impoverished childhood and traveling through four decades of ups and downs in the history of the WWF-turned-WWE. Then, they repeatedly follow up with a mix of interviews with industry leaders and experts, archival information and footage from McMahon’s own programming, to provide greater context – and often demystification total – of what he says.

The extent of the show’s coverage is quite extensive. It addresses a number of serious issues that McMahon and company prefer to gloss over or skirt around, including labor abuses and union busting, the steroid trial, the ring boy scandal, the rape allegations referee Rita Chatterton versus McMahon, Jimmy’s suspicious death. Superfly”, Snuka’s Girlfriend, Benoit’s Double Murder-Suicide, Ashley Massaro’s Rape During a WWE Appearance on a Military Base and the Company’s Efforts to Cover It Up, and the Civil Lawsuit pending sex trafficking charges against McMahon and the federal criminal investigation it spawned.

The group of interviewees the series has assembled are mostly up to the task of discussing these topics and more. Former wrestlers Anthony White, aka Tony Atlas, and Bret Hart give a clear-eyed (by wrestling standards) look at their days working for the WWF. THE Wrestling observerDave Meltzer does a great job breaking down WWE history in a way that’s comprehensive enough for people who follow wrestling but still accessible to the uninitiated. Authors Sharon Mazer and David Shoemaker provide vital cultural criticism. New York Veteran Job columnist Phil Mushnick candidly discusses his coverage of McMahon’s decades of professional and personal misdeeds while reporters Khadeeja Safdar, Ted Mann and Joe Palazzolo provide insight into their recent investigations into his crimes.

Mr. McMahon is not perfect. While I appreciate that time constraints would make it nearly impossible to thoroughly investigate every WWE-related scandal over the course of six episodes, some of them are little more than a fleeting mention here. (Netflix described the series in its marketing materials as having been selected from more than 200 hours of interviews with McMahon alone.) It’s significant that Snuka was recognized, but it’s a shame that there wasn’t had the time, resources or interest to investigate. long-standing rumors that the WWF of the time may have played a role in covering up its involvement in the death of Nancy Argentino.

Certain periods of WWE history are explored in more depth than others. The post-Attitude Era coverage in particular would have benefited from more cultural criticism and expert opinion. It’s odd that the show seems content to allow modern-day stars like Cody Rhodes to insist that the current version of society is supportive and devoid of the problems that plagued the rest of its history without hindsight which almost all other statements receive. (Though it’s convenient for Netflix, which will begin streaming WWE Raw in 2025, that their show is apparently completely separate from anything unsavory covered in that series.)

Despite its minor flaws and the limitations of its scope, the series remains a solid interrogation of McMahon’s life and work. I’ve followed wrestling for too long and seen too many improbable comebacks from McMahon to say with certainty that he won’t bounce back one more time, but I believe it will leave a permanent mark on his ability to control his own. narrative. All the usual tricks he’s employed to develop himself and avoid accountability throughout his career are laid bare here. It mythologizes and exaggerates the details of Wrestlemania III and the producers immediately follow up with actual attendance figures and background information about its stars. It ignores proven instances of harm as isolated events, when the show has already made a strong case that they were consistent with its behavioral patterns and the corporate culture it fostered. And he continues to try to draw a definitive line between himself and his alter ego and to blame all the accusations and criticism he receives on the latter. (In fact, he still does. In a statement shared on clear boundary between person and character.

Mr. Vince McMahon might have thought he could talk and make up his way out of whatever the people involved in this production threw at him when he agreed to participate. But in the end, it’s clear that the only person he’s successfully worked with is himself.