Character, Creative, and Kayfabe

Cue Entrance Music

You step out from behind the curtain and are met with the roar of the crowd. Some are cheering and others are booing but all are on their feet. As you scan the stadium, area, convention center, or high school gym, flashing lights blind you momentarily but you play it off. You try not to let it show, but your nerves are rumbling in your stomach, as everyone’s eyes are on you and you alone.  Your theme music isn’t loud enough to drown them out. You make your way to the ring either paying attention to the fans or ignoring them as your character permits you to. The way the storylines are written, you’re a heel or a face, a bad guy or a good guy. If you’re really good, you’re both. Regardless, you hold this power over them.

As a wrestling fan, I find myself continuously at bat for my favorite wrestlers and playfully bashing ones I don’t like so much. It’s part of the culture that keeps the wrestling universe in tact. The whole system depends on the fans having some sort of reaction to what is going on. Whether or not that reaction is positive or negative doesn’t particularly matter; as a spectator, you will watch to see if things keep going the way you want them to or if they will change in your favor.

The art of crafting a character in the business of entertainment is a challenge in itself. The character must be different from anyone else and have something special about them that makes them stick out in some way. Some of the best characters in the history of WWE were able to reach those heights because their characters were written with the actual persons personality in mind. The more believable a character is, the more successful they will be able to “get over”. (“Getting over” in this sense, means garnering some sort of reaction from the audience, positive or negative.)

Now add in the fact that your characters must have the athletic abilities that professional sports require. These are real people, who train for hours on end, to be able to perform at the caliber that their character requires of them. It is truly an art form, even sans costuming and makeup.

What is Kayfabe?

Wrestling is sports entertainment meaning that, yes (gasp!), there are some aspects of it that are planned, scripted, or faked, whichever you want to call it. “Kayfabe” is a carny term derived from the Pig Latin for “be fake” (pronounced backwards) that professional wrestling adopted to describe the fourth wall between the audience and the athletes similar to the way actors remain in character. The wrestlers maintain kayfabe for most of the time they are out in public to keep up their personas. Heels and Faces aren’t typically seen travelling, eating, or working out with each other. In the past, kayfabe was stricter but now wrestlers have more wiggle room.

Regardless of the actual physical danger wrestlers put their bodies in every time they step into a ring, some people still discount wrestling because of the scripted/fake aspect. As a fan, finding out that wrestling is “fake” can possibly change your perception of the spectacle. For Jeromy Otter, a lifelong wrestling fan, realizing that wrestling was “fake” didn’t change his perception much.

“The fighting aspect of it wasn’t what sold it for me,” he told me in an interview. “I grew to love the characters and that’s where I invested my time.”

Otter continued to talk about going to see live wrestling events and noticing that the athletes weren’t actually kicking or punching each other. Although precautions are taken, people still do get hurt. Torn ligaments, dislocated limbs, and broken bones are all very real threats that can plague a wrestler, just like any other athlete. Before we entered the “PG-era” we find ourselves in now, superstars used to get body slammed onto tack-covered canvases and make small cuts near their hairlines to make the match look bloodier than normal. They truly do put their bodies on the line for the love of the sport and the fans.

The love for wrestling and its characters transcends the actual television show. These larger than life characters entrance you and they become role models and icons to be admired. One Halloween, before I was born, my parents (both avid wrestling fans) dressed up as their favorites at the time. This year, we might do a whole family of wrestlers and include my sister now.

When I found out that wrestling was “fake”, I wasn’t put off in any way whatsoever. Instead I found myself even more intrigued if possible.

“You mean someone gets paid to create storylines and write scripts and dialogue for the wrestlers?” I remember asking my parents wide-eyed. “That’s a real job?”

Nothing Better Than Live

The buzz around AT&T Stadium was palpable. I kept getting shocked from touching the metal arm rails and brushing against my dad on my left and a pair of strangers on my right. On the other side of my dad, my sister, then 9 years old, is clutching my mothers hand as they pass us on their way to the bathroom. She is wide-eyed and overwhelmed at all of the sensory stimuli affecting her. The lights flashing, music echoing in our ears, and the air heavy with the breath of so many other people would overwhelm even the biggest and baddest.

The League of Nations—a group of four mid-card wrestlers from non-US countries—had just defeated The New Day, a crowd favorite, to become the new Tag Team Champions. So naturally, it was an opportune time to take a break. As the League of Nations paraded around the ring declaring that no three men could defeat them, my dad nudged me. Get ready,the gesture implied. Something big was coming.

The music started and I thought I was dreaming. The strangers next to me cheered, as did my dad, and I was stunned by the response. I was in complete awe.  Shawn Michaels was here, and I was seeing him in person. His iconic long blonde hair and red chap-like pants made him easily recognizable as he emerged onto the stage. At 51 years old, he still got it. One of my childhood heroes that I grew up watching kick-ass and take names on TV was breathing the same air as me. I was quickly shaken out of my daydream and joined more than half the stadium in taking out my phone to have recorded proof for later. I’d want a clear memory of this.

As Shawn Michaels did his thing on the star-shaped stage, imitating a machine gun as he lunged to the side and flexed, another song began to play. Mick Foley strutted out to a more than welcome crowd. I remember finding a picture of my mom dressed as Mankind, one of Foley’s personas, for Halloween before I was even thought of. She donned his recognizable ratty white dress shirt, brown leggings, and had brushed her thick, curly hair into her face just like him. Foley and Michaels hugged center stage as my dad and I continued to freak out. Mick Foley’s music faded out and there was a teasing pause.

The sound of glass breaking. Heavy electric guitars. 101,763 people from every corner of the globe inside the stadium and millions watching on TV around the world were going absolutely nuts. It wouldn’t be WrestleMania in Arlington, Texas with out an appearance from Stone Cold Steve Austin. Yet another one of my childhood heroes, known for his “couldn’t care less” attitude and anti-authority policies, was in the same space and time as I was. My cheeks ached from smiling so hard and my eyes burned with tears of appreciation. He lifted his middle fingers in the air and the stadium mimicked him still surprised at his presence.

The League of Nations were frozen in the ring. As the legendary Superstars made their way down to the ring, the energy in AT&T Stadium pulsed. Unsurprisingly, Michaels, Foley, and Austin made quick work of the foursome and commenced celebrating in the middle of the ring.

The whole ordeal lasted less than 10 minutes but it brought out some of the most memorable characters of the WWE. Their presence was, and still is, bigger than themselves; the reaction of the fans is consistently the same every time they appear.

A Place For Me

As someone who wants to work in creative for a wrestling promotion one day, my favorite moments are when you think you have an idea of how something might work out, and then that feeling gets pulled out from under you. One of those moments happened this past weekend during the Smackdown exclusive pay-per view Hell in a Cell. In the main event, which had been building for the past month, an incapacitated wrestler was placed on the announce table as the competitor climbed to the top of the 20 foot high cell. This competitor then proceeded to jump off the cell, aiming for the fellow wrestler on the table…only to miss because someone who the WWE universe had thought to be his enemy pulled said wrestler to safety.

As far as creative goes, this was well thought out, as long as they continue to pull it off well; as a fan of wrestling, I was shocked to my core because I did not see that coming at all. There is a multitude of ways that the creative team could spin this scenario and each will demand reactions.

As fans, you get emotionally invested in characters or personas in wrestling. Another fond memory I have of wrestling was when my family and I went to WrestleMania 32 (wrestling’s SuperBowl) in 2016. I was able to witness, in person, one of my all-time favorites (if not my absolute all-time favorite) The Undertaker defeat Shane McMahon. Not going to lie, I teared up a little. And then the following year, at WrestleMania 33 in Orlando, I watched from home with my family as The Undertaker lost, and effectively retired, to Roman Reigns. I definitely cried after that one.

The characters we invest in become more than just characters to us, the fans. Their larger than life personalities influence our lives in ways we might not even be 100% sure of. Their mannerisms, catch phrases, and gestures become ingrained in everyday life. We relish in their victories and sympathize in their losses; we connect with them because they are real people. We see the best of them as well as the worst of them and we stay anyway because we see ourselves in the characters. That is why I want to do what I want to do. I know the wrestlers I’ve followed meant a lot to me so why not continue carrying that torch and keep it lit for generations to come.