Mr McMahon: New Netflix docuseries shows why WWE promoter is a great storyteller and pro wrestling is peak entertainment | Web Series
Back in 2007, then-WWE Chairman Mr McMahon stepped into his limousine at the end of the flagship show Monday Night Raw, which then exploded, leading to the legendary promoter being “presumed dead” by the WWE. Weeks later, McMahon abandoned the storyline of his death after a WWE wrestler Chris Benoit died by suicide in real life. The track was planned as Mr McMahon’s mysterious illegitimate child seeking revenge. Even after circumstances forced him to drop that narrative, Mr McMahon eventually did go ahead with that storyline in fresh light – with leprechaun Hornswoggle emerging as the illegitimate son in question.
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That’s the extent Mr McMahon, or Vince McMahon, is willing to go to tell and sell his stories. Chris Smith’s eponymous six-part Netflix docuseries traces the rise and fall of Mr McMahon, which has the same amount of juice and friction as every other memorable storyline Mr McMahon has brought to global television through WWE. His creative decision to paint himself in evil colours – and presenting his character of ‘Mr McMahon’ as the ruthless, demanding boss of the company has led to the birth of arguably the most memorable heel (negative character in pro wrestling parlance) in WWE history. His feuds with Bret Hart, Stone Cold Steve Austin, and D-Generation X are some of the most memorable ever.
Borrowing from real life
Like all successful storytellers, Mr McMahon has borrowed generously from real life to fuel his storylines. For instance, the very birth of Mr McMahon the character happened when he kept an ear to the ground and measured the enormous amount of heat he received for “screwing” Bret Hart in his WWE swansong in his hometown of Toronto, Canada. What came to be known as the Montreal Screwjob started with Mr McMahon stealing the WWE championship belt from then-champion Bret Hart before his shift to rival company, WCW. Mr McMahon asserted his authority to ring the bell and call the match in favour of Shawn Michaels, who had Bret in the latter’s signature move, the Sharpshooter, even though the latter didn’t tap out.
The birth of Mr McMahon the character, paved the way for the watershed Attitude Era in the WWE, which skyrocketed its ratings, leaving WCW far behind. Mr McMahon not keeping his real-life goodwill into account, and letting his impulsive decisions as a businessman inform the creative front of his company is a masterstroke not too many promoters could take. To hit the sweet spot between business and creative, cold-bloodedness and passion, consistency and quality, ego and self-deprecation is probably what gave him an edge above fellow pro-wrestling promoters like Eric Bischoff (WWE) and Paul Heyman (ECW). Because it implied what’s best for business, Mr McMahon eventually even roped in Eric and Paul as the Raw general manager and an onscreen talent manager, respectively.
Paul Heyman, in the docuseries, points out that the only relationship Vince McMahon has been in his entire life has been with his business. Having been accused of sexual harassment multiple times throughout the course of his career, the setback only gave Vince McMahon more fodder for his creative process. Months after former WWE wrestler Sable sued WWE and Mr McMahon for sexual harassment, he got her back on the roaster, this time as his onscreen girlfriend. He also had an onscreen affair with legendary WWE wrestler Trish Stratus in a storyline that had her drugging his wife Linda McMahon, culminating in a match between Mr McMahon and his son Shane McMahon, with Linda, Trish and his daughter Stephanie McMahon at the ringside.
He’s also not hesitated from involving his entire family and their real-life dynamics in the storylines on air. In fact, he initially pushed Stephanie to date WWE superstar Triple H, not as her father, but as a businessman enabling one of the most dominant power couples in sports entertainment business, both on TV and in boardrooms. Storylines about succession to the family business – pitting Stephanie against Shane – have also sporadically made their way to the ring. In the docuseries, Shane disapproved of Mr McMahon’s on-screen affair with Trish although he had played along back then, and Stephanie reveals the only time she said no to her father’s bizarre creative ideas was when he proposed a storyline in which she gets pregnant, but the father is her father himself.
Into the mind of a great storyteller
These excessive storylines didn’t stem from the sick mind of a predator, but primarily from that of a businessman who wanted to give a sensationalism-seeking America what they wanted. When Vince McMahon began gaining more power at the WWE (then-WWF) than his father, he turned the sport of pro-wrestling (with some dramatic strokes here and there) into full-blown narrative arcs with all the ingredients of mainstream Hollywood entertainment – good guys, bad guys, sleaze, revenge, violence, and surprises. Tie-ups with modern brands like MTV and merchandising of popular faces also helped build the multiple revenue-source juggernaut that WWE is today. He even brought former US President Donald Trump on board for a Hair vs Hair match at Wrestlemania. Mr McMahon acknowledges his primary identity of a storyteller than of a sports entrepreneur – which is why he didn’t give in to Shane’s pitch to acquire UFC despite a hefty offer.
Early in the docuseries, Bret Hart also ranted about how WWE is often called fake or considered low-brow entertainment. He said that he considers himself an ‘artist’ because he was telling a story by putting not only his face, but also his body on the line. It’s for this sake of storytelling above everything else that Bret later returned to WWE and avenged his Montreal Screwjob from Mr McMahon in a memorable onscreen feud. Despite having tasted greener pastures in Hollywood, ace WWE superstars like Dwayne Johnson, John Cena, and Dave Bautista still swear by their WWE origins and pop up for cameos here and there every once in a while. For what is WWE if not an apt training ground for film acting – to hit your mark for the camera, make a grand entrance on your theme music, interacting with fans, hitting the right punches in mic work, building a physique for action, and playing your limited part in a larger storyline.
Vince McMahon has now taken a step back from management at WWE, and one wonders whether it’s the right time for him to hang his boots. In the era of social media and nuanced storytelling, how much would the suspension of disbelief and broad strokes inherent to WWE sustain an impact? Vince McMahon has tided through many a tectonic shifts across decades in the business, but his legacy as a bad guy in the business is now catching up with him. While speaking to the camera in the docuseries, Vince argues that people tend to confuse him with the evil onscreen character he plays, but the fact is they’re chalk and cheese. As probably his final attempt to salvage his business that’s gradually slipping away, here’s Vince McMahon giving viewers of the docuseries exactly what they want – another hot, irresistible story hitting that sweet spot between reality and kayfabe, ethical censure and vicarious sadism, and growing up and living in fantasy.
