overbooked

I don't like those crowds either, but what is the solution? Post-kayfabe, how should they act? Should they cheer and boo, because that is what expected, like how the audience in a pantomime (one of the few other truly interactive performances I can think of right now, where the audience really are part of the show) knows to follow particular cues? Should they pretend to believe? Or should they sit quietly? Or politely applaud? This is something I've struggled with for years now. What is the role of a pro-wrestling crowd these days? And what behaviour isn't annoying?

At this point, I do think these kind of chants are part of the fiction in a way, because the workers clearly work toward getting them. Different times. Indeed, and hence why if "blame" is the right word, "blame" needs to fall at much at the feet of workers as fans or bookers. And, without being too troll-y, and as someone who doesn't like "This is awesome" chants at all, are they really any different to a crowd giving a standing ovation at the end of a match, or Mexican fans throwing money in the ring?

It seems like when we consider those old-school crowds we have to consider issues around morality and authenticity. It might not be helpful to muddle the two. From a moral perspective, I'm pretty sure we can all agree racist, sexist or homophobic chants aren't great, and neither is courting them in the first place. I think questions around authenticity are more interesting. Did those crowds truly believe? Or were they playing their designated part in the performance? I suspect a bit of both, but I also think it is worth unpacking, as it may hint at wider reasons for why modern chants can annoy so much. "This is awesome" might be awful because it signifies the end of the kayfabe Garden of Eden, or it might annoy because it pulls the viewer out of the moment, by bringing attention to the fiction.

Perhaps, but Austin feels like a more extreme (no pun intended) example of the genre. And the early Austin/McMahon narrative was around McMahon wanting a clean-cut babyface as his champion, not some sweary, violent, anti-establishment guy. That feels new, as it wasn't just an anti-hero fighting a heel, but the heel positioning himself (at least initially) as the moral one. Austin felt like a watershed as it was very hard to go back to traditional babyfaces. But then I suspect that was the case more generally across the board - anti-heroes were/are an easier sell than the cookie-cutter heroes of the past. More broadly speaking, I think flirting with irony was a dangerous game for a genre that needs to play it straight to work. If Lance Russell had played things with a nod and wink Memphis wouldn't have been Memphis. There was that recent New York Times article on everything being pro wrestling. The funny thing is that everything is, except pro wrestling. There are real parallels between wrestling and say the Kardashians or The Only Way Is Essex. It is all about the unreal presenting as real. And to do that you need to maintain the universe, play it straight, keep the irony out. I'm not sure pro wrestling has done that. And when the audience is there, during the performance, it is very difficult to keep the irony and cynicism at a distance. I'm not sure any booking can change this, beyond something radical. Which is probably MMA.

I'm not sure Austin was booked as a proper babyface, I always felt he was in many ways acting as an old-school heel, which within the context of the nineties was going to cheered. We talk about the double-turn, but how much did Austin actually change, and how much was it just the audience viewing him in a different light? I agree that pandering to dick fans isn't great, but when the whole culture is full of dick fans wrestling was screwed. Pander to them and lose what made wrestling work. Or ignore them and become completely irrelevant. I'm not convinced there was a way out.

I'm saying let's not critique pro wrestling purely within the bubble of pro wrestling. There were/are broader trends around irony for irony's sake, self-conscious narratives and a general distrust of sincerity (especially when it is clear that the sincerity is false - in a TV show, ad campaign or pro wrestling match). You've supplied examples of that shift, and how mainstream that shift became. It would be easy to do the same in music, fiction, advertising, politics, "real" sport, even. How people consumed popular culture, and what that popular culture became, were greater influences on pro wrestling than, say, some guy writing a newsletter.

I think irony and cynicism went from being counter-cultural to just plain cultural in the late 80s and 90s. I think it might be worth re-reading David Foster Wallace's take on TV, fiction and irony to see if it resonates with this discussion. It is not just a case of wrestling following the "sign of the times", more that the audience, and popular culture, had fundamentally changed. Cynicism towards wrestling had always existed, but by the late 80s/early 90s one of the primary methods of consuming popular culture was to view it through jaundiced, cynical eyes and popular culture either adapted (with more post-modern or self-aware content) or looked horribly out-of-date. I'm not sure knowing how to book was enough when playing it straight was increasingly not an option, and even if you did, the audience would just view it through the prism of irony, not sincerity.

I'm no Heyman fan, but I think this is too simplistic. He just harnessed a Philly crowd who always had those inclinations, and made that behaviour more acceptable and mainstream. But considering how irony soaked the nineties were (in the wider culture, not just wrestling), that was probably inevitable anyway. I'm also surprised you haven't got Vince McMahon on that list. WWF was hardly the last bastion of kayfabe, or crowds that cared.

This absolutely makes sense, but I still think it is tricky defining when the switch took place, or even if that switch has completely happened yet. WWF/E has flirted with it to some degree or other for at least 30 years. I'm not sure there was ever a real Garden of Eden, as wrestling has always been a bit shaky on doing kayfabe right. it is just more obvious and deliberate now. Lucha and puro still feel real, although for all I know the commentary might be breaking kayfabe all over the place. The only modern stuff I keep up with in any way is lucha, and that is probably because it still feels Garden of Eden-ish. I really struggle to get my head around post-kayfabe modern wrestling. Am I meant to suspend disbelief? Or view it purely as an artistic spectacle? Or enjoy the weird faux-shoot stuff in the middle? Perhaps those anxieties at at the root of any ageism I have towards the modern product.

I think this could be a new thread, as much as an example of ageism in pro wrestling, as there is so much to unpack. As much as I think I may agree with the philosophy behind it, I'm not sure it completely stands up. There were always fans who were clued up, or suspicious, or questioning. There was always a general population who were pretty sniffy about it. Wrestling was always kind-of broken. I doubt we could agree on a date when kayfabe ended, and even today there are glimpses of it still existing, in some form, depending on how you define kayfabe, which is a whole other discussion. However, I do think the shift away from "Believing" to something else is probably at the heart of ageism, as much as it is at the heart of how wrestling as a performance has changed, fandom has changed, and wrestling criticism has changed. I just think it is still hard to pin down exactly what happened, and when.

Well, Negro Casas is the best worker in the world and he is well into his fifties. Ageism is a funny thing, as there is plenty of evidence to show that wrestlers can still be effective well into their 40s and 50s. In some cases they actually improve with age - physical limitations mean they spend more time on psychology, pacing and the 'little things', the things they have picked up over the years that are actually far more important than the athleticism of youth. Perhaps ageism, or at least conflict between generations, is more notable because there is a clash between the old guys who started up in the last days of kayfabe, and the new guys who are the first truly post-kayfabe workers. I'm pretty sure wrestling has always had old-timers with rose-tinted glasses, but now the younger set have far more of a voice, and a distinctive philosophy too. The Vader/Ospreay thing is odd, because I didn't think fans really cared who won or lost anymore. Why did it matter who went over, in this day and age?

Not only would I listen to the Amazon Game on its own, I would genuinely listen to a BTS offshoot podcast with Kris talking about barbecue. And not just because I like hearing him talk about butt rubs.

Rush/Park is why I keep on coming back to pro wrestling. Wrestling as punk rock. Wrestling that feels real. Wrestling that could make a crowd want to riot one minute, and the next minute want to throw money in the ring. Just an astonishing spectacle.

Add another vote to the March 1986 show with Beau James. The breakdown of that episode of Memphis TV may be my favourite BTS segment so far.

Rey Hechicero vs Máscara Dorada (Monterrey) Bonus points for the super scuzzy ring, the VQ straight out of 1993, the dayglo-looking shirt on the ref and the sparse crowd ambling about. The mise en scène of a wrestling match is an underrated element, although I suspect that is a discussion for another forum. Anyway, I absolutely loved this - starts with matwork/pin exchange-type stuff and then ramps up with Hechicero as the brutal power guy and Dorada working all the hope spots. The interplay and the way they worked reversals in that meant something and didn't look too choreographed was outstanding at times. Just a great compact little match that didn't outstay its welcome or overdo the nearfalls. Carístico vs Máscara Dorada (Lucha Azteca) Far more of a spotfest, but a really fun one at that. I could live with the early dives as that set up the rest of the match to be the gruelling spot/sell/spot formula. Considering the fuss about certain spotfests in other parts of the world I'm astonished these sorts of lucha matches don't get more love. Saying that, bar a few breathtaking spots my favourite moments were when the HATE came to the surface - the mask ripping, the brawling on their knees. And I think it was that sort of stuff, the emotion over the spectacle, that made this match work. And it would have worked even better with even more of that HATE.

I'm not sure wrestling has particularly changed, more the presentation of it. Are there many matches put together in a way that would look out of place 10, 15 years ago? I can see how some of it is executed more slickly, but I don't see a leap in how stories are told in the ring. Lucha Underground is different in terms of look, feel and general production style, but once the bell rings isn't that new as such. Or maybe I'm just watching the wrong stuff.

Booking being awful is obviously one key component, but I wonder if caring about match quality is a consequence of the post-kayfabe era. When people believed in wrestling (or at least were willing to suspend disbelief) good booking was essential, as that is what drove the product and drove the engagement in the product. People watched because of the emotional attachment, because they cared who won and lost. Once winning and losing stopped being important (mainly down to post-kayfabe reasons, but parity booking didn't help) booking didn't matter so much. Wrestling became entertainment, and an entertainment in itself. So matches themselves took on more importance. There was nothing else left to care about. I'd also argue that wrestling completely moved away from the job match model to competitive stuff on TV, so matches mattered more. And the internal wrestling narrative highlighted "great matches" more, and "great matches" for their own sake, not for booking reasons. And then there was a generation of workers who had watched tapes and wanted to put on good matches, which was a shift from a generation of workers who wanted to make money by manipulating emotions. I also wonder, at least within the smart/smark community if key people influenced how good wrestling was judged. Star ratings, Meltzer, many early internet reviewers etc were all geared towards judging wrestling on match quality rather than broader storytelling, at least to some extent.

Another great episode, guys. Thank you. As much as enjoy shows with guests (last week's show was excellent fun) it is a nice change to have the odd show here and there with just you two.

I wonder if this conversation would have been different pre-GWE megapodcasts? I don't think many people want half-hour Exiles, for example, but I do wonder if some of the more epic GWE efforts burned people out.

I have a long commute, so the longer podcasts suit me, but I can definitely sympathise. I think there are a few things... Stop the "Let's have a really long show" thing, as it is starting to feel like a weird podcasting arms race. Break up longer shows/recordings into shorter chunks. The amount of content would be the same, it would just be more digestible/easier to download. Perhaps even offer a download for the whole 3 hour show, and separate downloads for 1 hour chunks? Or stagger the release of a long show over a few weeks. Ensure there is good "chairing" of a show. Both Will and Parv are excellent at moving the discussion forward and avoiding unnecessary tangents (I love a good tangent, but I'm no fan of the completely irrelevant one with added tapping away as people Google the answer). None of the above is meant to sound ungrateful. I love there is this much content, the vast majority of it is great, but just a few minor changes could make it a little more accessible. I really appreciate the time and effort that goes into all these shows.

Isn't this all part of a wider cultural bias between the north and south? Plus so much mainstream media being northern? And isn't the counterpoint that plenty equate Southern Wrestling as Proper Wrestling. So much of the language and terminology we use when discussing wrestling has southern origins - southern tag, playing Ricky Morton etc. Many ideals around good wrestling are rooted in southern wrestling tropes.

Rush/Casas was a cracking little match. Plenty of violence and hate crammed into very little time. The two of them do such a good job of presenting Rush as a monster without just resorting to a typical squash match template. This is how to do a short match effectively.

Well, I did say I was getting carried away! However, I do think there is a distinct shift from say, Dusty Rhodes the working class hero, standing up to the Man yet also looking out for others, making saves, mentoring young guys and Steve Austin, who stands up to the Man but essentially has no loyalty or empathy for anyone else. Austin and McMahon both seemed to be sociopaths in their own way.

Add me to the Casas/Hechicero love-in. I thought the whole thing built beautifully and despite some big moments was nicely understated. The matwork went somewhere, the spots moved things forward, and it seemed to set up a "bigger" match further down the line. It was really refreshing after watching some of the more spot/dive-orientated singles matches from other guys on TV recently. Negro Casas is in ridiculous shape for his age, isn't he?

I'd always heard stories like this about 80s kids shows, and now I know at least one of them is true. This business model doesn't seem that far off the WWF/E model. I'm pretty sure we could collate a few examples of a WWF gimmick being thought up first, then applied to whichever wrestler came through the door. Wrestling characterisation became far less nuanced and reality-based, and more "product"-orientated, a 2D caricature with a logo and distinctive outfit that can be played by anyone and is there to shift merch rather than tell compelling stories in the ring. Essentially, this all dovetails nicely into the theory that Vince would rather present wrestling with no wrestling at all. The aim is not to make the wrestling, nor the wrestlers, the draw. The draw is the product. A couple of questions from all this that may or may not deserve a separate thread: 1. Could we make a case that not only did politics change wrestling, but also changed what happened in the ring too? Hulk Hogan's act was pretty heel-ish at times, which kind of aligns with some of the US foreign policy of the time where you can use force by any means as long as you think you're morally right. Later on, even Austin seems like a rugged individualist rather than working class hero when I think about it. Here was someone who worked and acted as someone just looking out for himself, couldn't be trusted, almost had a touch of the Ayn Rand about him at times. But I'm probably getting carried away there. 2. As wrestling moved from spectacle to product did it fundamentally change how we appreciate and critically approach it? I think analysing wrestling as primarily a live experience where workers and audience react off one another leads to certain conclusions. If we watch the same match as primarily a passive experience, as something recorded for tape, TV, streaming service etc, we can easily come to a different set of conclusions. Are both approaches valid? Should we approach the match according to how it was actually presented (spectacle vs product) or should we try to consider it from all angles?