TNA Rant posted in Fighting Spirit Magazine

TNA Rant

(Article by Matt Barnes from www.fightingspiritmagazine.co.uk)

Randy Savage impersonators, men pretending to be sharks pretending to be Steve Austin... welcome to TNA!

Great gimmicks draw great crowds, plain and simple. WWE seized firmly upon the formula in the early Eighties with the likes of Sgt Slaughter, The Iron Sheik and Hulk Hogan. Larger-than-life gimmicks were a crucial part of the Rock ‘n’ Wrestling era – a period that cemented wrestling in the public consciousness, where it has stayed ever since.

Gimmicks were vital to the mainstream wrestling revival, too, as big name grapplers donned the black and white of the nWo, Sting became The Crow, and guys like “The Rock” and “Stone Cold” became household names. They can also be simple, often just an extension of a wrestler’s personality – Ray “Big Boss Man” Traylor really was a prison guard, Bob “Sgt Slaughter” Remus really was a marine, and William “Paul Bearer” Moody really is a funeral director.

In recent times, however, OTT gimmick wrestlers in top spots have become an endangered breed. Mankind is now plain old Mick Foley, Kane is no longer a mutilated, masked madman and even The Rock is going by his birth name. In many ways this is a development to rue, rather than celebrate; as theatre, wrestling is by far at its best when filled with gaudy, colourful characters that jump out of the television and into your living room.

So it is with some hope, then, that we view the current TNA landscape. While the best WWE can offer are cultural stereotypes like Cryme Tyme and Umaga, the folks in Orlando have been thinking outside the box. The development of Shark Boy, Curry Man and Black Machismo have been glorious, bringing back an era of fun, entertaining gimmicks. It has been a joy to behold, but is it the
key to long-term success?


IT’LL NEVER GET OVER… WILL IT?

Many critics eschewed Jay Lethal’s transition from no-nonsense X-Division job boy to Macho Man-mimicking comedy figure, but those honchos were banished into dust when he knocked that sucker straight out of the park. Lethal even received a phone call from Savage himself, giving him his seal of approval – at least, he thinks it was Savage. There are a lot of guys who can do a good Macho Man voice, so he isn’t 100 per cent sure.

Regardless, when Black Machismo first arrived, many cited the character as another example of Russo-booked insanity. And yet it was this very gimmick that has made Jay Lethal a feature player for the group; since turning up the heat as Machismo he has become a multi-time X Division Champion, even getting the honour of beating none other than Kurt Angle for the strap (which, as Kurt so humbly put it in our issue 26 interview, was “like beating Stone Cold or The Rock”!).

But why has such an oddball gimmick worked so well for Lethal – a terrific wrestler who, in a perfect, pure wrestling world, should be able to get over on his own merits? The reasons, in truth, are twofold. Firstly, there’s the nostalgia factor. The Macho Man was a much-loved part of WWE’s prior boom period and, for older and casual fans, it has been a pleasure to see such a unique character reprised. Well, parodied.

Secondly, the gimmick appeals to the smart fans; like a lot of WCW and WWE promos during the wrestling war, Lethal’s interviews are filled with inside comments that resonate with TNA’s hardcore following. Not only is the Machismo/Dutt/Val love triangle a nod to the Savage/Hogan/Elizabeth issues of yesteryear, several other “smart” references have been thrown in for good measure, allowing the audience to find welcome wit in TNA’s often inconsistent writing.

But as good as Lethal’s colourful portrayal is, and as well as the Lethal and Dutt’s issues have been crafted in isolation, they’re still undermined by their place in the overall pecking order. While TNA got it so right in terms of the gimmicks, the work is quickly undone when the guys are mere whipping boys outside their own feud. Great as their personalities are, it pains us to see them trotted out whenever geeks are needed for squash duty – a recurring theme with many of TNA’s potentially great gimmicks.


100% WHOOP BASS

How best to describe Shark Boy? “A man, impersonating a shark, impersonating Stone Cold Steve Austin” just doesn’t seem to cut it. Yet, whenever we explain this idea to even the most casual fans, their faces light up with interest. Of course, the crazy mask and Sharky’s fine Austin impersonation (replete with reworked catchphrases and mannerisms) are key. But there are other forces at work that suggest, with or without the Stone Cold shtick, Shark Boy was always destined to get over as a wrestling character.

When I first interviewed Shark Boy several years ago, just as he’d landed with TNA (back when it was still doing weekly pay-per-views and dying on its ass), he gave a valuable insight into the benefits of working under a mask, as well as how important body language is for anybody who chooses to do so. Looking at how the character has developed since his TNA debut, and bearing in mind what he said, it’s little surprise that he’s become such a roaring success:

“I rely on body language instead of dialogue to tell my story. The character’s appeal is universal; no matter what language you speak or what the weather is like where you live, the Shark Boy message comes across to the fans every time I perform.”

Without being able to rely on quick-witted promos he became a master of gesture, and his entire gimmick was built around his mannerisms. More than just a typical signature rasslin’ taunt, placing his hand to his head and “shooting the fin” was his way to interact with crowds and draw them in. The fact that, at this stage, he was getting over without ever saying a word was a testament to his physical abilities. That he had actually managed to build something of a cult following on the back of it was just incredible.

But still, until recently, Sharky was lost in the mix. With nothing but his mask and indyriffic gimmick to set him apart, he didn’t look like anything special next to the highwire antics of his X Division cohorts. Given the apathy that years of being mired in the undercard could have caused, the writers took quite the risk in making this non-talking sea creature the epitome of ass-kickery. But both Shark Boy and the company got behind it, and it has become a genuine highlight of TNA’s programming in 2008.

Not only has he perfected Steve Austin’s mannerisms and customised his catchphrases (such as, “Gimme a shell yeah!”), but the faux-Stone Cold entrance music and the clam juice he sups after every victory have made the package complete. Like Black Machismo, Stone Cold Shark Boy has evolved beyond one-note lampoonery and is a well-planned, well-delivered gimmick that TNA can be proud of.

We’ve certainly enjoyed his bass-kicking antics and he has been one of the key reasons that we’ve started to look forward to Impact! again. In addition to our adoration for the gimmick, however (and perhaps more importantly), the always merchandise-friendly Shark Boy has become a big hit at the concession stand. And if you’re looking for reasons why TNA, always looking for new revenue streams, is increasing its gimmick production, the heaving merchandise table is a pretty big one.


ICHIBAN~!

As entertaining and marketable as Shark Boy is, his tag team partner Curry Man has been just as much fun to watch. You see, for all his athletic abilities, Christopher Daniels as Christopher Daniels wasnt exactly a fountain of charisma in TNA. Sure, his matches were consistently great and often the best on the card. But his po-faced persona lacked anything that could connect with the audience beyond his sensational workrate. He needed spice.

Amazingly, Daniels may be the only wrestler who is more charismatic while hidden under a mask. He portrayed the Curry Man character for years in New Japan and Michinoku Pro (picking up titles in both promotions), and it got over big style with the Japanese fans. Suddenly, under a mask, the man simply came to life. Gone were the steely-eyed determination and confusing hand gestures, replaced by furry hats and crazyass dancing.

This was precisely what both TNA and Daniels needed, and Curry Man has proved the dream partner for Shark Cold in recent months. Who would have believed this time last year that deadpan Daniels would be wrestling in a Fish Market Street Fight? Yet that’s exactly what he did at this year’s Destination X pay-per-view, and it was the most wonderfully wacky, gloriously goofy WrestleCrap (in an entirely positive sense) you’ll ever see.

The Shark Boy/Curry Man combo and their silly signature match are one of the rare, positive products of TNA’s ongoing overbooking. Seeing them and Team 3D, utterly straight-faced, beating each other to a pulp with giant fish was a prime example of how, used sparingly, such outrageous gimmickry can provide some brilliant, unforgettable moments.

And sparingly the combo has been used in recent times. Both men have appeared on Impact! one week but not the next, and this is exactly how TNA should handle them. By not overusing and overexposing them, the company is for once resisting its hotshot-heavy mentality, resulting in fans being really hungry to see them the next time they appear. Sometimes it’s hard to label anything TNA does as “well-booked”, but this is one of those rare occasions.


DON’T FIRE ERIC

One of TNA’s homegrown success stories has been Eric Young – a guy who, over the last 18 months, has taken the Impact Zone by storm and become one of the biggest fan favourites on the roster. Surprisingly, given some of TNA’s more ill-advised booking decisions, the genesis of Eric Young has been downright charming to watch, as he went from a periphery player in the once-great Team Canada to a lost, scared soul fearing for his wrestling existence and is now a superhero in his own right.

In truth, there wasn’t much in 2007 that TNA didn’t drop the ball on. Yet Eric continued to grow and develop as a performer, and the crowd’s chants of “Don’t fire Eric!” produced some memorable moments earlier that year. While his association with Rellik and Black Reign seemed to take some of the shine off his underdog aura, his transformation into Super Eric took him to new heights with the TNA faithful, and proved just the right move at just the right time.

Having once led the fans around the Impact Zone like The Pied Piper in the hope of saving his job, many worried as 2007 progressed that his momentum was being lost. Constantly dragging out and retreading the ‘will he lose his job?’ storyline, it looked like TNA would again miss the boat by letting an angle overstay its welcome. But, by some unforeseen miracle, along came Super Eric to save the day.

Young has carried the feud with Black Reign and Rellik like a true pro and, once more, the fans are behind his every move. Having spent much of his career as Robert Roode’s bitch (having once been tarred and feathered by his former Team Canada compatriot) and engaged in a lengthy, silly stint of ‘paranoia’, few could have predicted just what a great face Eric Young would become. And how nice for TNA to have in its midst a potential name player that it created entirely from scratch.


(SHARK) FOOD FOR THOUGHT

One of the biggest criticisms of wrestling gimmicks is generally how goofy they are. And what’s goofier than a man, dressed as a shark, dressed as Stone Cold Steve Austin? Some viewers feel that such things devalue the product and make wrestling a laughing stock. But think about this: wouldn’t you prefer to defend your favourite pastime for being goofy and fun, rather than all the steroids and the death rate?

Given everything that has happened in the world of wrestling recently, we think a little light relief is just what the doctor ordered – and that’s exactly what TNA’s current crop of gimmicks are. Far from being mere filler, they are comedic high points that light up pretty much every episode of Impact – and, moreover, they’re simple, innocent moments that remind us why we actually liked this stuff in the first place.

They recall and rekindle all our fondest wrestling memories from the Hogan, to the nWo to the Attitude eras. But the segments are memorable for all the right reasons and the characters have, on the whole, quickly become loved by TNA followers and jaded former fans. And we can’t stress enough just how important it is for fans new and old to love TNA.

Which isn’t to say that the industry should be overrun with gimmicks; like anything, it’s all about give and take. We’re sure you’ve heard the phrase “three-ring circus” attached to professional wrestling, and it’s the most apt summary we’ve come across. If you don’t like the lions, maybe you’ll like the clowns or the acrobats; or, if you don’t dig Samoa Joe and Kurt Angle knocking seven shades of (BLEEP) out of each other, maybe you’ll laugh at the antics of Santino Marella or marvel at the athleticism of Rey Mysterio.

As Alex Shane expounds on page 60, it’s the context (or, rather, being out of it) that makes something stand out and succeed in this business. If every wrestler in town wore a mask or started lampooning a classic character, the whole thing would wind up staler than Snitsky’s breath. It’s because the business has been dominated in recent times by stoic, serious, “trunks and boots” grapplers that a wrestler with a ridiculous gimmick is now the exception. Moderation is the key – which brings us to our next case in point.


SLACK REIGN
“Overkill” is an oft-used term when it comes to TNA booking, and it has never been more relevant than describing the company’s recent band of monsters – Abyss, Judas Mesias, Black Reign and Rellik. While WWE generally takes time and effort building a monster into a mystical, unstoppable force, TNA has either rushed its monsters into hurried, confusing feuds or killed them dead with slipshod back-stories and nonsensical add-ons.

Take Abyss – a man who wrestled under a mask for years, became an unstoppable, unmatchable monster and was then shot down in flames by the ill-conceived angle that saw Jim Mitchell become his dad and Judas Mesias his half brother. When Abyss removed his mask and headed up the ramp on Impact!, stale and spoiled from bad booking and photocopied gimmick matches, it marked a sad end to his run as a great monster.

Even worse has been the handling of Dustin Rhodes. As Black Reign, the story went that Rhodes had split-personality issues, so never even realised that Black Reign existed. But the character was quickly remixed, with Rhodes permanently becoming Black Reign and arming himself with a pet mouse, Misty (who, for some reason, he loves to lick). Add the inexplicable Rellik (that’s “Killer” spelt backwards, you know) into the mix and, suddenly, any hope for TNA’s monsters flies straight out of the window.

Perhaps even worse than the monsters, though, are TNA’s monsters of rock – the talented trio of Lance Hoyt, Jimmy Rave and Christie Hemme, who are languishing as The Rock & Rave Infection. All three are talented workers in their own rights and are also pretty good on the stick – that is, when they’re not pretending to be fake rock gods.

We struggle to see what the group brings to the table by carrying Guitar Hero instruments and getting cheap heat by thanking the wrong city when doing house shows. The rock star vibe can work; see The Hardy Boyz – ultra-hip guys who look like rock stars and are twice as loved. Three Count – a brilliant boy band parody with their own dance routine (and Tank Sinatra). The Rock & Rave Infection? Geeks with toy guitars…