MIDNIGHT REVIEWS Mr McMahon Review
The story of a man who never says ‘I quit’, even when he does.
Series produced by: Chris Smith, Bill Simmons
Featuring: Vince McMahon, Terry ‘Hulk Hogan’ Bollea, Shane McMahon
Synopsis: A documentary attempting to take an in-depth look at the wrestling business in America, and how Vince McMahon made himself the centre of it all.
Review: Any worries that Netflix, having just bought the rights to WWE programming, might be tempted to put a sheen over all the negative aspects of Vince McMahon’s character, evaporates very early on in a documentary that acts as best it can when faced with a business that seems physically unable to tell the whole truth.
At times, Mr McMahon is a hilarious look at the behind the scenes of an enigmatic business; a terrifying indictment of unchecked power; and a look at how the world has been changed so irrevocably by one man’s ideas.
Wrestling as a business, especially under Vince McMahon, is gaudy, blending the truth with fiction as a habit. The documentary keenly tries to explore the difference between Vincent Kennedy McMahon, actual real-life businessman and past owner of the biggest wrestling game in town, and Mr McMahon, the character portrayed on TV.
The problem the documentary makers have is simple. No one seems to be able to agree on much. Is Mr McMahon the wrestling character the same as Vince McMahon, father and entrepreneur? Some say he’s exactly the same, some say he’s completely different and others lay somewhere in between. Even the man himself seems undecided, eventually landing on the cookie-cutter explanation that he has become the character somewhat, but to what extent he just doesn’t know.
The documentary does its best with this problem and deliberately points it out, letting us know the slippery quarry it’s trying to define.
“He doesn’t see white or black; the only colour he sees is green.” Tony Atlas
What is made very clear is that Vince McMahon is someone who puts everything aside for business. The documentary also makes it very clear as to how so many people were persuaded by its subject to commit such degrading acts.
Making sure to keep things simple, what with McMahon being such an elusive figure, the documentary keeps to a roughly chronological structure. We get a taste of McMahon’s early life before moving through the different eras wrestling has gone through, but Mr McMahon never falls into the trap of getting sidetracked. It could’ve so easily been distracted and ended up telling the story of wrestling through the ages; what it does so well is demonstrate that McMahon is wrestling.
“It’s not real, it’s your character.” Vince McMahon
In this way, just as the documentary threatens to get sidetracked, it flips on a dime and McMahon begins talking about the abuses he suffered in childhood, sometimes espousing genuine mindfulness in how he approaches bad things happening to him.
On the flip side, there are other times where it’s difficult to fully invest in him and other interviewees, if not the documentary itself. This is due in no small part to the constant question of whether these talking heads are taking part in some grand-scale revisionism. The sense the documentary seems to be trying to bring across is that some of these people have repeated certain lies so many times they’ve actually grown to believe them.
“So, one of my storyline ideas was that Stephanie [McMahon, Vince’s daughter] gets pregnant, and I think I was the one who impregnated her.” [beat] “My character.” Vince McMahon
At a certain point, the documentary almost seems to accept McMahon not giving a full rundown, responding in a sarcastic manner. This leads to amusing hard cuts, people confidently contradicting McMahon and each other, telling you everything you need to know about the man.
The final episode spells it out for anyone not paying attention: to take in Vince McMahon, and the character Mr McMahon, you have to be able to hold two ideas in your head simultaneously. It’s gratifying, in an age where success so often means leaning to an extreme opinion, that Mr McMahon allows itself to admit that while he did awful things, and has been accused of much, much worse, Vince McMahon also did a lot of good. It’s just that the accusations are so awful they can’t really be forgiven, if true.
“I would take a bullet for that man.” Mark Callaway
The impact of the talking heads varies. Dwayne Johnson features in snippets but is merely window dressing, whilst the man known as Hulk Hogan, Terry Bollea, goes through a character arc worthy of a few weeks in a wrestling ring. What’s clear is that Bollea, and so many others, would do almost anything for this man.
The one question the documentary doesn’t answer is why most of the talking heads featured can so easily reconcile the terrible things McMahon has been proven of doing, the accusations thrown his way recently and even the slippery nature of how he escaped other accusations. This is a man who seems to be adept at being careful to say the right thing. At best, it’s a bunch of people who owe McMahon because he gave them a living. At worst, it speaks to a cult mentality. But this isn’t explored enough to provide a satisfying conclusion.
“Actually, had it been rape, the statute of limitations had run out.” Vince McMahon
What it does make clear, though, is that unlike the clear cut, black and white world of wrestling, where there are good guys and bad guys, this example of real life could be generous and horrifying. One interviewee talks about his wife receiving the best cancer treatment in the world, paid for by the man himself. This story is featured in the same episode that tells us McMahon was allegedly head of a sex trafficking ring, and didn’t even work that hard to hide it. A scintillating, terrifying watch that is enlightening for wrestling fans and non-fans alike.
Mr McMahon is available to watch on Netflix.
Matthew D. Smith likes to overshare his views on movies and TV shows whenever and wherever he can. Indulge him, and follow him on Twitter or listen to the podcast he co-hosts with Leslie Wai.
