"This Was the XFL"
Via Sports Illustrated |
As we've pointed out several times on this website, one of
the most difficult things about being a wrestling fan is dealing with the
McMahon family, who, by default, operate a virtual monopoly on professional
wrestling. Unless you are really invested in independent wrestling, New Japan,
or Lucha Libre, you have to deal with the McMahon power-structure in order to
watch the theatre of the squared circle.
So when ESPN announced that they would be producing an
episode of their acclaimed 30 for 30 series on what was Vince McMahon's most
spectacular failure -- the XFL -- I was certainly intrigued. A documentary that
was not produced under the auspices of the WWE could present a more objective
and challenging perspective on the failed professional football league.
Alas, I probably had too high of hopes for this documentary.
For starters, ESPN and the WWE have partnered together on a number of projects
in the past two years, ranging from increased exposure of the WWE's product on
ESPN's programming to an upcoming episode of 30 for 30 on Ric Flair. Perhaps
more importantly, the documentary was directed by Charlie Ebersol, the son of
Dick -- the godfather of NBC Sports and the man who has had a long-standing
friendship with Vince McMahon.
As such, the documentary has a tameness about it that can be
chalked up to family and familiarity: the younger Ebersol actually says so in a
brief-vignette before an act-break, noting how difficult it was to talk to his
dad and family-friend McMahon about their failure with the league for the
documentary.
But in another sense, "This Was the XFL" actually
reminds me of the worst elements of the WWE-produced documentaries about its
wrestlers and rival promotions. In one sense, the doc mythologizes the career
paths of both Ebersol and McMahon, noting how the older Ebersol went from
Saturday Night Live to creating the behemoth of 1990s NBC Sports, while McMahon
easily transformed the WWE from a regional promotion to the leader in
"national sports entertainment." Of course, the documentary glosses
over the complications of McMahon's "Manifest Destiny," especially his hand in
destroying smaller wrestling companies.
In addition, while the documentary shows talking-heads such
as Bob Costas and Matt Vasgersarian who were clearly uncomfortable with the
tone of the league, Charlie Ebersol seems to back-away from condemning the
sexism of the product. especially how the cheerleaders were portrayed by the league and NBC; in a sequence detailing how the cheerleader outfits were designed, one
talking-head recalls how she suggested "Boobs, boobs, boobs!" should
be the key to the uniforms and how positively enthralled McMahon was with the
idea (it was creepy). Moreover, the doc glosses over the homophobic comments of
McMahon in early press conferences where the WWE Chairmen frequently said his
league who not be a place for "sissies" and "pansies."
Instead, like WWE docs about the Attitude Era, the documentary almost gives
these elements a pass as "just another part of the late-90s" and
"that's what fans loved during that time."
It also seems like the documentary isn't sure what to do
with McMahon and the "Mr. McMahon" persona that he brought to the
league. It's clear the documentary tries to criticize McMahon's professional
wrestling / carnival barker approach to his appearances on television with the
XFL -- including his infamous "THIS IS THE XFL" promo before the
league's first game -- but Ebersol struggles to make sense of the angry,
vindictive, and dangerous McMahon who threatens Bob Costas in a very
uncomfortable televised interview. McMahon's response to his unhinged interview
with Costas in parts of the documentary is to brush it aside, as he claims "I
should not have responded that way," but in other segments of the
documentary, McMahon bemoans that he didn't have the opportunity to literally
crush Costas. In these moments, McMahon straddles an uncomfortable line between
'joking about hurting someone' and 'really wishing he could have hurt someone.'
This condoning of the darker elements of the XFL is also
reflected in the documentary’s treatment of the players. While Gary Maddux and
Rod Smart are interviewed, “This is the XFL” barely mentions the lives of the
players who actually played in the league. The documentary is eager to point
out how McMahon tiered the salaries of players in his league – which paralleled
the unequal salary formula of professional wrestling – but it rarely touches on
the struggles of the players, save for a few mentions of injuries; in contrast,
the episode “Who Killed the USFL” does a far superior job of illustrating the
financial issues and tribulations of players in that league.
Perhaps the most disappointing element of the documentary is
how it ends on a tale of redemption. In the final moments of the documentary,
McMahon and the older Ebersol are seated at a table sharing a dinner and, very
uncomfortably, recount what they’ve learned (?) about their experiences; the
end reminds me of a mix of My Dinner with
Andre and Manos: the Hands of Fate. And like so many WWE documentaries, “This is
the XFL” tries to celebrate the legacies of these two men and give credit to
them for all the accomplishments of the league --- why, we are wiser, and the
NFL now uses some of our camera angles! --- while underplaying the fallout from
this failure.
In the end, there is some fascinating stuff in this
documentary, but its unevenness and concern for preserving the legacies of Dick
Ebersol and Vince McMahon leaves the viewer feeling there is a lot more to this
story. But given how much influence the
McMahons have over their stories, that’s a documentary we aren’t likely to see
any time soon.
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