Death, Religion and Wrestling: A Serious Undertaking

Transcription

1 Death, Religion and Wrestling: A Serious Undertaking By MATTHEW NADELHAFT STANDING six feet, ten inches tall and weighing three hundred and thirty pounds, Mark Calloway is a physical specimen impressive to the point of being frightening. As the Undertaker, a popular mega-star of the World Wrestling Federation (WWF), he crosses the line from impressive to terrifying. His massive appearance is but part of his presence. The Undertaker's entrance into the arena is a spectacle both campily funny, like much of big-time wrestling, and somehow awesome. All big-name wrestlers of the WWF stable enter the ring to some sort of fanfare. A recent world champion, Macho Man Randy Savage, 1 enters the ring to "Pomp and Circumstance" in brightlycolored clothes and cape and stands on the ring-posts to pose for the adoring crowd. Most "good guy" wrestlers jog or run down the aisle from the dressing room to the ring, slapping hands with and being touched by the lucky spectators. "Bad guy" wrestlers gloat and taunt the crowd. The Undertaker, on the other hand, does not interact at all. If the entrance of wrestlers into the ring functions to "establish the nature of their relationships to the audience," as Mazer suggests (Mazer 1990: 100), then the Undertaker immediately presents himself in a powerful non- relationship to the audience. He is cold and aloof, but not in a gloating, self-absorbed way. 2 The audience is simply not there for him. He walks very slowly and deliberately down the center of the aisle, out of the reach of the audience. His head is bowed, his eyes hidden beneath the rim of his dark hat. His arms are motionless at his side. Most popular wrestlers choose to enter the ring with loud rock music blaring. The Undertaker's entrance is set to dark, slow, ponderous music. It begins with the tolling of ominous bells as he enters; the lights go down and he then walks to the ring accompanied by a funereal organ dirge. As he enters the ring the organ dies away, and he removes his long, dark coat and his hat his gaze fixed on his opponent as the bells toll again. Doubtless, on paper, the entrance of the Undertaker sounds pompous and silly. Yet it very effectively creates the desired atmosphere, and the desired relationship with the crowd. It must be remembered that a very large segment of the audience at any major wrestling event is young children. For these fans, the Undertaker's entrance is "spooky" and "gives them chills" (Interview). He does not look human to the young fans I interviewed. He is not meant to (1 of 16)11/21/2005 4:05:21 PM

2 Indeed, the Undertaker's performance in and out of the ring is crafted to be inhuman in every respect. It is significant, then, that his eyes are hidden, for the eyes are, by popular and literary reckoning, "windows to the soul," "the mirrors of emotion," etc. But as the Undertaker makes his way into the ring, his eyes are hidden in shadow, lest any humanity be revealed. During his matches, whenever the cameras move in for a close up, the Undertaker's eyes are rolled up into his head, showing just the whites. The effect is "gross" to my informants, and unsettles me a bit, too. The Undertaker's skin is a dead white, enhanced perhaps with make-up. Certainly the dark circles around his eyes are artificial. His hair is long and dark, and he is covered, except for his powerful arms, in black. To top it off, the Undertaker wrestles in grey leather gloves. Despite or perhaps because of his terrifying appearance, the Undertaker is tremendously popular. Watching the crowd during his entrance reveals looks both of delight and of horror, or perhaps disbelief. He invariably receives a loud and excited standing ovation, with flashbulbs popping away. Scanning the crowd one can pick out any number of Undertaker t-shirts and waving, hand-held tombstones bearing the Undertaker's name and the letters "R.I.P." Young children actually do look scared (I have even seen tears), but still everyone cheers. The purpose of this paper is to explore these contradictory feelings for the Undertaker. By discerning what the Undertaker represents in the complicated symbolic system of the WWF it is possible to understand his reception. It is obvious that the Undertaker is a personification of death. He is made to seem inhuman precisely to be effective in this role. The Undertaker is surrounded by death symbols. He enters the arena preceded by his manager, "Paul Bearer," who holds aloft the Undertaker's icon a funeral urn. 3 Bearer also carries a black body-bag, into which the Undertaker zips the unconscious body of his defeated foe. During Paul Bearer's "talk show" 4, "The Funeral Parlor," the Undertaker rests or hides in a coffin, in which receptacle hapless guests often wind up. During matches, during interviews, and in his entrance, the Undertaker's behavior is crafted to create an image of death personified. His fighting style is perfectly choreographed and executed to this end. His gaze is always fixed upon his opponent, whom he pursues slowly and inexorably about the ring. The only word that can apply to the Undertaker's progress towards an opponent is stalking, and I am sure that precisely that image is intended. Though he moves slowly and deliberately, the Undertaker wastes little time. Most wrestling matches begin as both wrestlers test each others' strength and prowess with some kind of hold, but the Undertaker opens with a kick or blow that instantly puts his foe at a disadvantage. The Undertaker's matches are crafted to display his great strength by moves such as lifting his victim into the air, holding him at arms' length and strangling him and his athletic ability, which is amply demonstrated by his uncanny ability to walk along the top rope while holding his foe in an armlock, and by his ability, if thrown from the ring (in the rare matches that present such a struggle), always to land on his feet outside the ring, "displaying inhuman balance" (WWF Magazine June, 1992: 26) (2 of 16)11/21/2005 4:05:21 PM

3 Strength and agility are not the only attributes displayed by the Undertaker during his matches. When he wrestles well matched opponents, no matter what he is hit with, the Undertaker never displays any pain. He is emotionless, tireless and intractable. He is rarely knocked to the mat and, when he is, he slowly rises up like Frankenstein's monster on a slab. It is through the combination of Mark Calloway's great athletic ability, his pretty fair acting ability, and the careful choreography of WWF matches that the Undertaker is effective as a death symbol. The children I interviewed got the message, declaring that he does not look human, that he "makes you think of someone who's just come back from the dead" (Interview). This message, that the Undertaker is a personification of death, is supported by the "analysis" of the WWF and the many wrestling fan-magazines. The World Wrestling Federation produces and inspires a great many publications and programs, all of which are part of the overall wrestling project. It is not so much a sport as an athletic, continually unfolding story-line. The wrestlers are characters in an ongoing dramatic universe. The storylines of this universe are advanced in matches and other encounters between the characters. Interviews, talk shows, commentary and fan-zines exist, like some vast and extravagant "Soap Opera Digest," to keep the audience informed of plot developments, to prepare them for further twists, and to hammer home the important points of the stories. In these forums, the messages about the Undertaker come through loud and clear. The Undertaker, we are told, is not human: he is Death. A recent WWF Magazine devoted solely to the Undertaker is introduced thus: The Undertaker has loomed over the World Wrestling Federation with foreboding presence ever since the first time he somberly strode down the aisle to the ring. He walks with death. The aura of the tomb surrounds him. He seems invulnerable to physical harm and totally lacking in emotion. He seems possessed of incredible physical powers. He is a huge man of awesome strength, yet he can balance on the top rope like a tightrope walker. With all these qualities, he has captured the imagination and interest of countless fans the world over. Fear has its own fascination. And the Undertaker is fear itself (WWF Wrestling Spotlight Volume 16: 1). (3 of 16)11/21/2005 4:05:21 PM

4 The Undertaker's matches are choreographed to display his "inhuman" abilities, and work hand in hand with commentary about him. During one entrance, a commentator (Vince McMahon, the mogul of the WWF) mentioned a "feeling of respect" that comes over the spectators at the Undertaker's entrance. His partner, "Mr. Perfect," disagreed: "it's a cold, clammy feeling and I'm not comfortable with it" (Prime Time Wrestling. April 27th, 1992). When Hulk Hogan, the WWF's most popular wrestler and champion at the time, fought the Undertaker, commentator Bobby "The Brain" Heenan mentioned, "He's never fought a man like the Undertaker if he is a man," and "this man's a monster" (Supertape '92. Coliseum Video. 1992). A debate about whether or not the Undertaker ever breaks a sweat during a match prompted this Heenan remark: "You have to have blood and pores to sweat" (Survivor Series '91: The Gravest Challenge. Coliseum Video. 1991). When the Undertaker wrestled Jake "the Snake" Roberts before a tremendous crowd at "Wrestlemania VIII," the match was designed to allow for just that type of commentary. Each wrestler has a trademark "finishing move," some devastating blow from which his opponent does not get up. 5 Jake the Snake's finishing move is called the "DDT" and involves bringing the opponent's face into the mat with all of Jake's weight on top of it. It is among the most famed finishing moves in the WWF. In a recent match, Macho Man Randy Savage, the world champion, spent several minutes unconscious (or feigning unconsciousness, which is the same thing in the wrestling world) in the middle of the mat after receiving the dreaded DDT. During his match against the Undertaker, Jake scored twice with the DDT. Each time, the Undertaker rose up, while Bobby "The Brain" Heenan babbled "the man's not human! You could pound on him all day!... I don't think you could hurt the Undertaker... He's not human... You can't hurt him" (Wrestlemania VIII. Coliseum Video. 1992). Excited commentary is one thing (I have no idea if commentary is ad-libbed or scripted. Bobby Heenan could be ad-libbing or he could be a good actor), but the more amusing and informative spectacle is that of a bunch of commentators on "Prime Time Wrestling" sitting around a table and seriously debating whether the Undertaker is human or not. After a match with The Berzerker (a three-hundred-plus pound man dressed like a Viking, complete with sword and shield) in which the Undertaker survived an attack with the sword and then sat up after receiving a piledriver on the arena's cement floor, all the usual sentiments were expressed. "How can anyone get up after that?" asked Mr. Perfect. Said McMahon to the assembled round-table: "...you have to ask yourself the question: 'Is the Undertaker human?' Really." (Prime Time Wrestling. April 27th, 1992) (4 of 16)11/21/2005 4:05:21 PM

5 While this debate may seem ridiculous, it is important to remember a few facts about wrestling. For one thing, the audience is mostly young children. One of the kids I interviewed admitted that at first he did not believe the Undertaker was human. For the rest, it does not matter that of course the Undertaker is human he is a huge athlete named Mark Calloway. Most movie-watchers know full well that the actors are not exactly what they represent. Messages come across anyway. As Barthes points out, it makes no difference to wrestling fans that the outcome is "rigged" or that the whole thing is a spectacle (Barthes 1972: 15), no more than it matters that a soap opera star does not really have cancer and that "Hamlet" is plotted out beforehand. The Undertaker is successful as a death symbol because he is good at what he does, because the WWF is good at what it does, and because the audience those old enough not to be taken in completely are willing to suspend disbelief for the sake of entertainment, and so accept the symbolism of the WWF the same way readers of a novel, or movie-goers, can be affected by symbolic messages without needing to believe that the novel or movie is "true." The interesting question about the Undertaker is not "why is he effective as a death symbol?" Go to one of his matches; you'll see for yourself. The question that needs to be answered is: why is the Undertaker, an obvious death symbol, so popular? The Undertaker's popularity is tremendous; he is a likely successor to the soon-to-be-retired Hulk Hogan as king of the WWF. The merchandise pages of recent WWF Magazine's offer more items directly related to the Undertaker than to any other wrestler: shirts, posters, tombstones, baseball caps, mugs and wall-hangings. Only Hulk Hogan's merchandise page preceded the Undertaker's in the catalog. His paraphernalia is ubiquitous in the stands; the ovations he receives are thunderous, and a recent WWF Magazine (September 1992) fan survey about the Undertaker elicited thousands of gushing comments. "The WWF fans are nuts about this man!" said Vince McMahon as the Undertaker made his way to the ring to take on The Berzerker (Prime Time Wrestling. April 27, 1992). Yet it was not always this way. The Undertaker's original role in the WWF was the one that seems more logical for him, that of the major villain in the wrestling world. The most obvious aspect of the WWF is its division into "good guys" and "bad guys." The wrestling magazines use the terms "fan favorites" and "rulebreakers," but these terms actually have no correspondence with the categories in reality, since "good guys" break the rules as often as "bad guys," and "bad guys" may well enjoy some fan support. 6 Fans seem to prefer the terms "good guy" and "bad guy," especially young fans (5 of 16)11/21/2005 4:05:21 PM

6 The moral status of a wrestler has little to do with his behavior, although how they conduct themselves provides clues to their status. Shawn Michaels acts arrogant and vain, and is much disliked, while the Bushwhackers happily interact with the crowd and display silly expressions and a silly walk, and are beloved. At the same time, however, skilled wrestlers like Ric Flair and I.R.S. may be reviled without much taunting of the crowd, while the Undertaker, for whom the crowd does not even exist, has their utter support. And inside the ring, Shawn Michaels may rarely cheat, while "the Big Boss Man," a popular "good guy," handcuffs and beats sometimes with a baton defeated opponents. The Undertaker is no less popular for zipping his unconscious victims into body bags and stomping on them as he leaves the ring. Nor does wrestling ability enter into the equation, for Shawn Michaels and Ric Flair are among the most talented and most disliked wrestlers in the league, while some of the most popular such as Sergeant Slaughter, "Hacksaw" Jim Duggan, and The Ultimate Warrior are not particularly talented as wrestlers. What determines the moral status good or bad of a wrestler is not his behavior, but what he represents. The logic of the WWF is partly structural, in the Lévi-Straussian sense. Wrestlers represent symbolic forces in opposition, and their moral status is defined by that opposition. When a new wrestler enters the WWF, fans are alerted to his status not by his initial presentation (although that helps) but by whom he fights first. If a villain, his first public battle will be with a well-known and liked but beatable good guy, such as Koko B. Ware, Jim Powers or Virgil. If he is to be a "good guy," he fights a similar bad guy Skinner, Kato or the Brooklyn Brawler, perhaps. When the Undertaker first appeared in the WWF, his first few opponents were just such men Greg "The Hammer" Valentine, "Superfly" Jimmy Snuka. Plus, he entered the scene in association with known "bad guys" Ted DiBiase and the televangelical Brother Love. 7 Several wrestlers actually symbolize social groups and forces, 8 and their position in the WWF is given meaning by the position, in American society, of their referents. Sergeant Slaughter and "Hacksaw" Jim Duggan, for instance, are popular for their nationalistic associations. Both represent an aggressive, militaristic and working-class construction of America. Both carry the American flag with them and inspire the audience to chants of "U.S.A!" On Memorial Day of 1992, Duggan fought Col. Mustafa, a wrestler representing Iraq, while Slaughter fought Kato, a Japanese 9 wrestler (Prime Time Wrestling. May 26th, 1992). The symbolism was obvious, and there was no question for whom the crowd would cheer in each match. National symbolism is the most prominent type in the WWF, but other wrestlers represent less obvious groups and forces. The Beverly Brothers, for instance, with their long hair, purple capes and embraces, are a sneaky vehicle for homophobia. They talk of growing up rich in Beverly Hills in order to represent a certain lifestyle rich, pampered, effete. They are managed by another unpopular wrestler, The Genius, who recites poetry and wears cap and gown. He, too, represents an effete lifestyle, that of the intellectual. Wrestling's popularity is solidly working class, and the class dimension is very important in the construction of good and evil for the wrestling audience. Ted DiBiase, the "Million Dollar Man" has never been anything but a "bad guy," because he is rich. "I.R.S." and "Repo Man" are also villains, for obvious reasons. Meanwhile, Duggan carries a 2-by-4 into the ring with his American flag, uniting patriotism and class (on Memorial Day, he taped the two symbols together). Rowdy Roddy Piper, when opposing DiBiase, proudly boasted of his working (6 of 16)11/21/2005 4:05:21 PM

7 class background and the dirt under his nails (WWF Program Volume 191), as the Legion of Doom, a tag-team that tackled the Beverly Brothers, boasted about their upbringing in the slums of Chicago (Prime Time Wrestling. June 29th, 1992). The class dimension is gendered, in that "working class" equals masculine, while "upper class" or "intellectual" equals effeminate. Effeminacy is the sin committed by the Beverly Brothers and The Genius, and is the reason that several thousand fans in Bangor, Maine, chanted "Faggot" repeatedly at the Beverly Brothers, while they defeated the rough and dirty Bushwhackers (who led the chants). Even the WWF probably could not get away with an outright depiction of a homosexual wrestler and the homophobia that move would engender, so the effeminate "bad guy" is made to fit the bill. 10 Both class and gender/sexual antagonisms are dramatized by the WWF. The Undertaker fits into none of these dualisms. He is not a national symbol, nor a class symbol, and he has little gender dimension. He is, as discussed previously, an obvious death symbol, and so an obvious villain. Yet he is among the most popular wrestlers in the league. A brief review of the Undertaker's career would seem in order. When he first appeared in the WWF, there was no question but that the Undertaker was a villain. His associates were known "bad guys" and his first foes were popular heroes. To solidify the Undertaker's position as a major villain, the WWF staged a "feud" between him and "the Ultimate Warrior," one of the league's most popular cartoonish heroes. The two fought all over the country and exchanged televised threats and insults. This feud culminated in the Ultimate Warrior getting pummeled and locked in a coffin. There followed a prolonged "rehabilitation," as the Ultimate Warrior grappled with his fears of death (on national television) in order to face the Undertaker for a rematch. The rematch never happened. The Ultimate Warrior disappeared from the WWF for an extended period, perhaps on a steroid suspension, perhaps as a contract hold-out. By the time he had returned, the Undertaker was a "good guy," his fan support solidified by a feud with the unpopular Berzerker, a feud started when the Berzerker attacked the Undertaker with his sword. That event served the obvious purpose of making the Undertaker into a victim (though hardly a believable victim) to attract further fan support. The Undertaker and Ultimate Warrior have now even tagteamed together. But in the period after ambushing the Ultimate Warrior, the Undertaker was undoubtedly the WWF's major villain. By far the largest and most athletic "bad guy" in the WWF stable, the Undertaker was believable as a feared and unbeatable opponent. He was never pinned, and beat even Hulk Hogan, winning the championship belt a belt he surrendered only when Hogan cheated. During this period, the death symbolism around the Undertaker was unavoidable. So, I thought, was the intent (7 of 16)11/21/2005 4:05:21 PM

8 In analyzing the intent of WWF wrestling, one can do little better than Roland Barthes did in his 1957 analysis of French wrestling. Barthes finds that the wrestling-watching public is uninterested in whether or not wrestling is rigged and the outcome inevitable. Wrestling, like some great Greek tragedy or medieval morality play, seeks to portray grand themes and meanings. The result of the match is less important than the actions of the participants during the match. Wrestlers and what they do are symbols, for Barthes, of passions and ideals. "There is no more a problem of truth in wrestling than in the theater. In both, what is expected is the intelligible representation of moral situations..." (Barthes 1972: 18). Wrestling is a spectacle, a representation of Suffering, Defeat and Justice. Suffering is exaggerated by wrestlers and displayed by gesture and expression, so that cause and effect are obvious, precisely as they are not in social life. Wrestling is a forum for the display and reinvigoration of concepts, essential to social life but too vague and fuzzy to be clearly seen by the participants. It is an image of "the perfect intelligibility of reality" (ibid 25), rising above the ambiguity of everyday situations to present ideal understanding through a panoramic view. The WWF then serves this "function." It dramatizes and energizes moral concepts. In particular, Barthes rightly finds that the notions most important to wrestling are Justice and Punishment (ibid 21). Thus, the "bad guy" always "gets his" in the end (even if he wins the initial match with a good guy, he will always be defeated soundly in the "grudge" rematch). The "bad guy," always guilty of some sin, 11 receives due punishment at the hands of a "good guy." During the match, "bad guy" wrestlers always beg for mercy, an act that reinforces the image that they are being punished even as it castigates cowardice. As Barthes points out, wrestling is a "quantitative sequence of compensations (an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth)" (ibid 22). The punishment always fits the crime. Representatives of hated nations receive their punishment from patriotic Americans like Hulk Hogan and "Hacksaw" Jim Duggan. Ted DiBiase has been beaten in "grudge" matches by the working-class Rowdy Roddy Piper, and by his ex-valet Virgil, now a stereotypical "angry-young-black-man." The effeminate Beverly Brothers were finally brought down by the ultra-macho Legion of Doom, while Nailz was set up for defeat at the hands of "the Big Boss Man." Says Sharon Mazer: "All wrestling matches follow a performance tradition in which the spectators can be confident that the final outcome will ultimately reflect communal assumptions of what is right" (Mazer 1990: 102). "Good guys" represent the "social fabric" (ibid 115), the moral code of Justice that wrestling dramatizes. Furthermore, the sin for which "bad guys" are hated and punished frequently turns out to be their fatal flaw. Rick Martel's arrogance and over-confidence often prove to be his undoing, and the Mountie's self-centeredness always comes back to haunt him, as he is repeatedly ambushed while gloating for the crowd. Thus, the defeat of the "bad guy" provides a moral lesson (8 of 16)11/21/2005 4:05:21 PM

9 So, even as wrestling dramatizes a set of morals and social concepts, it allows middle-americans to witness the defeat of all that they oppose or fear, the punishment of those that they hate or resent. Given this realization, the Undertaker's success as a villain seemed assured, at first glance. He stands for death, and surely death is precisely that which is most feared and most hated by everyone. His defeat would be a symbolic transcendence of death. Indeed, while he was a "bad guy," the Undertaker was the most prominent and successful "bad guy" in the WWF. But his very success as a death symbol raised problems for his continued success as a villain. The most obvious problem was finding somebody to beat him. Transcending death was the idea, and was what everybody wanted to see, but it is not accomplished easily. Were the Undertaker to be defeated, even by a popular and successful "good guy" like Bret "Hitman" Hart, Sid Justice or the Ultimate Warrior, he would lose his effectiveness as a death symbol. So even the very popular went down before him, and the Undertaker put together an undefeated record. 12 Clearly, it would take something special to transcend death without harming the Undertaker's credibility and effectiveness as the ultimate villain. The WWF did the obvious thing: they turned to religion, and to the WWF's most popular hero, Hulk Hogan. When Hogan first wrestled the Undertaker, all wrestling followers would have predicted a victory for the WWF's most popular superstar and reigning champion, despite the Undertaker's record and significance. Surprisingly (or not), the Undertaker won, taking the world championship. The "bad guy" was not punished; death was not transcended. More interesting were the preliminaries to the match. Before the match (billed as "The Gravest Challenge"), Hulk Hogan got God. His pre-match interviews were religious in tone, and included quotes from the 23rd Psalm. Clearly, the message was that death could only be defeated by religion. Hogan has always been somewhat religious, wearing a cross and urging his fans to "say their prayers," but this new development put him on a completely different level. He would meet the Undertaker, Hogan claimed, with Jesus on his side, and the power of the Lord would help him overcome this, his "gravest challenge." Wrestling the Undertaker, Hogan acknowledged, would test him more than any previous fight had, but he was confident that he would prevail. The hype for the upcoming match included adding the epithet (epitaph?) "The Immortal" before Hulk Hogan's name. Interviewed after the match, Paul Bearer commented "nothing is immortal" (Survivor Series '91: The Gravest Challenge. Coliseum Video. 1991). In one of the preliminary segments, Hogan appeared on "The Funeral Parlor," Paul Bearer's talk show. He was, of course, ambushed and stomped by the Undertaker. As Hogan's friends Randy Savage and Rowdy Roddy Piper tried to fend off the Undertaker with blows from chairs which the Undertaker seemed not to notice, the Undertaker reached down to Hogan's prone body, ripped the crucifix from his neck, and laid it upon Hogan's chest. Hogan wrestled without the crucifix when he faced the Undertaker, and lost the match. During the match, Bobby Heenan made comments like "We may be looking at the next WWF champion the Undertaker who might very well be the Grim Reaper" and "Hulk Hogan is fighting for his life" (op cit). Hogan might not have been literally fighting for his life, but he was fighting a symbolic battle between life and death. In part, this battle helps to explain the dramatic popularity of the Undertaker. Wrestling matches are not isolated athletic events but chapters in a story with multiple characters, and the Undertaker's is the greatest story. James Fernandez points out that a spectacle is particularly successful if it presents (9 of 16)11/21/2005 4:05:21 PM

10 broad and powerful images that everybody can understand (Fernandez 1986: 286). The drama that is enacted every time a wrestler steps into the ring with the Undertaker is more commanding and more far-reaching than the various national, gender, moral and class dramas enacted by other representatives of the WWF. The commentary surrounding Hogan's loss to the Undertaker made explicit precisely what drama was being enacted. When a "bad guy" beats a major "good guy" in the WWF, it is only as a prelude to the rematch, in which the villain gets his satisfying punishment. Thus, it was no surprise when the Undertaker's first title defense, about a week later, was against Hulk Hogan. Most title defenses are supposedly thirty days apart: this one, one week later, was clearly not so much a separate match as the second chapter of one story. It seemed obvious that the Undertaker was being set up for the defeat that would once and for all transcend death, and that the WWF had hit upon the way to do it. Their newly-invigorated religious imagery would make the defeat of death believable and satisfying, and Hogan's previous defeat would lend the proceedings an aura of suspense and Resurrection. Surprisingly, the Undertaker manhandled Hogan once again. Hogan won the match, but through the power of cheating, not the power of the Lord. His victory came when he scattered ash in the Undertaker's eyes, and Hogan was rapidly stripped of the belt by the WWF, allowing it to pass into the hands of Ric Flair, and then Randy Savage. The wishy-washy conclusion to the Undertaker/Hogan battles shows just how tricky the subject matter was. After all, the WWF had been perfectly unambiguous about thrashing wrestlers representing Iraq and Japan, the rich, intellectuals and effeminate men. But as the Undertaker was Hogan's "gravest challenge," so was the subject of death the WWF's greatest challenge. The conclusion to Hulk Hogan's struggles with death may have been unsatisfying as wrestling after all, the champion Hulk Hogan never did score a real victory over the Undertaker but it proved to be the best resolution to the theoretical challenge, a resolution achieved by bringing to a (perhaps temporary) end one phase of the Undertaker's career and ushering in another. Shortly after the Hulk Hogan feud, the Undertaker became a "good guy." 13 He now enjoys tremendous popularity. But to some extent, he already did. Even as he wrestled the super-popular Hogan, the Undertaker had his supporters. Cheers could be heard at the Undertaker's entrance, and when he completed showy moves such as his flying clothesline. One sign, held aloft as the Undertaker made his way from the ring after defeating Hogan, celebrated the "demise" of Hulk Hogan and the rise of the Undertaker. One wrestling publication wrote of the pre- championship Undertaker: "The fans were awed by his ruthlessness and quickly flocked to local arenas to see him in action." Calling his support a "morbid attraction," the article concludes: "Next time you attend a WWF show, look carefully around you. You still won't see the Undertaker's secret morbid backers but they will be there, urging their hero on to yet another victory" (Wrestling Fury, June, 1992: 6-8). The "secret backing" is hyperbole; the Undertaker's fans had always been just as upfront as Hogan's (10 of 16)11/21/2005 4:05:21 PM

11 In part, then, the conclusion to the Undertaker/Hogan feud was a satisfying one to wrestling fans. Hogan's many fans could not be disappointed by seeing their hero lose, but the Undertaker's growing supporters could go home happy, too. It could well be that the WWF was already planning to convert the Undertaker into a "good guy," perhaps considering his growing following 14 and the immanent retirement of Hulk Hogan, and did not want his record tarnished by a defeat. As resolution to the theoretical problems that surrounded the Undertaker, his "draw" with Hogan and conversion to hero status worked near-perfectly. Since the Undertaker did not really lose, his effectiveness as a death symbol was not challenged, and since Hogan did not really lose either, neither his popularity nor the power of religion were tarnished. The Undertaker's conversion, though, is the real coup-de-grace. Understanding his new meaning in the WWF explains why he is so phenomenally popular, even while remaining a death symbol. 15 Since becoming a "good guy," the Undertaker's behavior has changed not a bit. The Undertaker hardly fits the mold of the WWF "good guy." Most popular wrestlers include their fans in their success, as part of a "family." Hulk Hogan calls his young fans his "Hulkamaniacs" and claims to derive strength and inspiration from them (although when he faced the Undertaker, Hogan explained that he would need a higher inspiration than even that of his loyal fans). The Ultimate Warrior calls his younger fans his "little warriors," and the British Bulldog calls his young fans "pups." 16 The Undertaker has a vast following, but he never acknowledges them. He wrestles just as implacably and mercilessly as ever, and continues to stuff his unconscious foes into body-bags (the children in the audience still sometimes react with fear and tears at this part, even though they may have cheered the Undertaker loudly before the body-bag comes out). In short, he is still Death. But he is now death harnessed to the WWF's dubious ends. If Barthes is right (and I believe that he is) that wrestling dramatizes Punishment as one of its key concepts, then the Undertaker surely represents the ultimate punishment. As Barthes points out, Punishment, the servant of Justice, is often administered by breaking the rules: "the system" (as usually personified by the almost-pointless referee) does not always work (Barthes 1972: 21). Wrestling often functions to dramatize a working-class distrust of/disdain for "the system," a system that often seems to punish the good and hamper Justice; 17 and a desire to see the rules circumvented to meet out real Justice. Thus, nobody is upset to watch "good guys" cheat; they only cheat against "bad guys," who deserve it. 18 "Since Evil is the natural climate of wrestling, a fair fight has chiefly the virtue of being an exception" (ibid 23). Wrestling dramatizes Punishment, and its moral code is more Biblical than legal. By their actions, the anti-social "bad guys" call down upon themselves a non-societal punishment. Wrestling is "a world where justice can only be restored by the good guy's necessarily transgressive actions" (Mazer 1990: 115). America is filled with myths about transgressors who go unpunished by "the system," from the rich, corporate criminal who can buy his way out of trouble to the welfare-cheat who abuses "the system," to the convicted criminal who escapes on a technicality or goes free too early. An "interview" with the Big Boss Man includes the words "sometimes the system doesn't work. You know it, and I know it. Sometimes a slime like the inmate here [Nailz] slips through the cracks." (WWF Magazine June, 1992: 16). For these wrongdoers, Punishment need not be bound by rules, so Justice depends upon ignoring the referee and circumventing the rules (11 of 16)11/21/2005 4:05:21 PM

12 The rules certainly mean little to the Undertaker, and now it is only the villains who meet (and are defeated by) the Grim Reaper. The WWF Spotlight magazine devoted to the Undertaker bore the subtitle "Grim Reaper of Wayward Souls," which is exactly what he is: the ultimate punishment for "evil." 19 Defeating death may not have been an effective transcendence, because the Undertaker, by being beaten, would have been rendered less effective at representing death. But making the Undertaker a "good guy" does transcend death in a sense, for death is thereby controlled and made useful, 20 integrated into the rather Christian moral universe of wrestling. 21 Since becoming a "good guy," even the Undertaker has quoted the 23rd Psalm in his interviews. Nor need the "good" of the WWF fear death anymore. There is a lesson in here. On a recent broadcast of Prime Time Wrestling, the Undertaker provided guest "commentary." His appearance was very informative. The Undertaker said nothing (except a warning for the Berzerker that "If the Reaper doesn't come calling on you, you don't come calling on the Reaper"), but his presence evinced a change in the other commentators. All were made nervous, but Bobby "The Brain" Heenan was particularly affected. Normally, Heenan is a "bad guy" announcer. That is, when he was a wrestler, Heenan was a "bad guy," and as a manager, he manages other villains. As an announcer, he is rude, arrogant, and deceitful, insulting "good guys" and always supporting "bad guys." But with the Undertaker present, Heenan changed his tune. With the camera showing the Undertaker's gaze unwaveringly fixed on Heenan, he supported all the "good guy" wrestlers showcased on the program, lauded their prowess and behavior, and castigated the behavior of the "bad guys" he used to support. When asked about his "new honesty," Heenan replied that he was turning over a new leaf. "I'm going to be positive; I'm not going to be negative. I'm not going to lie... I'm not going to cheat... I'm going to be a better person." The approach of death always seems to bring about penitence and the promise of reform. But when Heenan was shown to be insincere in his repentance, the Undertaker stalked him around the table (Prime Time Wrestling. June 29th, 1992). One could, perhaps, divide the moral universe of the WWF into the righteous, those who need not fear the Undertaker; and the "evil" or "wayward," those who need to mend their ways. The Undertaker's vast popularity measures his great potential to do precisely what wrestling does: punish the wicked. 40 The analysis in this paper is largely informed by "The Doggie Dog World of Professional Wrestling," by Sharon Mazer, which appeared in The Drama Review, 34 (4). Note 1 Many changes will of course have taken place between the writing of this paper and its publication, but they are immaterial. The WWF, as will be elaborated upon later, constructs myth, not history. It depicts a perfect, ordered universe, and such a universe does not include flux and change. Therefore, every time a "historical event" (such as the end of a feud or the transformation of a character) occurs, all that had gone before is forgotten, never alluded to again. Wrestling exists in the eternal present. [back] (12 of 16)11/21/2005 4:05:21 PM

13 Note 2 Shawn Michaels, for instance, presents an image of egotism and self-absorption. He refuses to interact with the crowd in order to make them believe that he is so full of himself as to believe he is above them. "I'm better than you (meaning the fans at home)," he once said in a taped interview (Prime Time Wrestling. June 29, 1992). Not surprisingly, Michaels is unpopular. [back] Note 3 Mazer points out that wrestling characters are intertwined with artifacts (Mazer 1990: 114). Such icons provide convenient symbols to clarify what the wrestler stands for. "Bad guys," especially, require icons. For one thing, they tend to represent more concrete social groups or concepts than "good guys" do. Plus, they can use their icons as weapons. The Undertaker has his urn, Repo Man has his hook, Berzerker his sword and shield, etc. [back] Note 4 Many wrestling personalities host "talk shows," which function less for the exchange of information than to dramatize personalities and enhance story-lines by serving as arenas for ambushes, betrayals, insults and challenges. [back] Note 5 The Undertaker's "finishing move" is the "Tombstone" piledriver. He slings his foe over his shoulder, locks the victim's head between his knees, and drops to the ground, slamming his opponent's head to the ground underneath him. The body bag ritual follows shortly afterwards. [back] Note 6 For instance, Hulk Hogan regained the championship belt from The Undertaker by throwing ash into The Undertaker's eyes. Macho Man Randy Savage also won his belt by cheating, grabbing Ric Flair's trunks. Rowdy Roddy Piper, an enormously popular and entertaining wrestler, uses whatever tactic comes to mind, and all tag-teams, good or bad, cheat equally. [back] Note 7 The Undertaker's association with Brother Love was particularly telling, since Brother Love represented a twisted and sick version of the religious ideals that are so important to the WWF. The role of religion in the Undertaker drama will be addressed later. [back] Note 8 "Bad guy" wrestlers tend to have more concrete signifiers than "good guys." While some "good guys" represent a class or nation (Duggan, Slaughter, Piper, Tatanka) or an ideal (Big Boss Man), most just represent "good." They exist as examples of virtuous behavior, agents of Justice and Punishment. "Bad guys," who represent something to be punished, are thus often more concrete in their symbolism. [back] (13 of 16)11/21/2005 4:05:21 PM

14 Note 9 Kato probably is not Japanese, but he wears a mask, so he may as well be. Given the tenor of feeling for Japan, particularly among the American working class, it was inevitable that the WWF present a Japanese "bad guy," and if no actual Japanese-American is found willing, a man in a mask works just as well. [back] Note 10 It is instructive that Brutus "The Barber" Beefcake, a popular "good guy," carried scissors with him into the ring. His role was to combat effeminacy by defeating and then shearing long-haired foes. [back] Note 11 Such as being from a despised nation (Colonel Mustafa and General Adnan represent Iraq, Kato represents Japan, Nikolai Volkoff represented the Soviet Union in the early eighties), group or social class (I.R.S., Ted DiBiase, Repo Man, and the Genius represent the rich and resented, Razor Ramon represents the upwardly-mobile minority who refuses to assimilate to "American values"), being effeminate (the Beverly Brothers), acting anti-socially (Shawn Michaels' selfcenteredness, Rick Martel's arrogance, Nailz' "criminal record"), etc. [back] Note 12 Had the Ultimate Warrior, after his "rehabilitation," defeated the Undertaker he would have been transcending the fear of death. Perhaps this theoretically plausible outcome would have been both satisfying and believable to wrestling fans, but it would have been slightly less tangible than the soon-to-be-enacted Hulk Hogan drama. [back] Note 13 The Undertaker underwent the standard conversion scenario: he opposed a hated "bad guy" (Jake "The Snake" Roberts) in defense of a helpless "good guy" (Randy Savage's wife, Elizabeth). [back] Note 14 Mazer points out that audience response does help to determine if a wrestler will be a "good guy" or a "bad guy," although it is even more true that audiences will support those wrestlers who are presented as "good guys" and oppose those they are told are "bad guys." Doubtless a dialectic exists between audience reaction to a wrestler and that wrestler's presentation. Initially, the audience roots for whomever they are told to root for witness the immediate fan support for the once hated Earthquake, as soon as he opposed another "bad guy" in the formulaic conversion scenario but in the long term, their willingness to continue support may affect the wrestler's future status. [back] Note 15 (14 of 16)11/21/2005 4:05:21 PM

15 The Undertaker's conversion provided the WWF with an extremely effective and popular new "good guy," but it left them with a serious dearth of effective "bad guys." Enter the equally frightening Papa Shango. Shango, a gigantic, tattoo-covered man with face painted as a skull, portrays some kind of a voodoo priest, who carries a smoking skull and curses his opponents. Shango, whose "bad guy" status was also solidified by a feud with the Ultimate Warrior, is the evil counterpart to the Undertaker. He symbolizes the supernatural more than death, so he need not be undefeatable. And, by virtue of representing a totally alien religion, he can be a doubly effective villain. Perhaps it is noteworthy that so many "pagan" wrestlers, such as Shango, the Berzerker, the Barbarian, the Warlord, Haku, Hercules, Kamala, etc. are "bad guys." [back] Note 16 To be a "good guy," it is important that the wrestler not appear to think himself above the audience, as most "bad guys" do. The crowd must feel part of the wrestlers' symbolic world, brought along by a relationship with the "good guy." While the Undertaker does not interact with his fans at all, nor does he act "above" them. His merchandise provides one link between fan and performer, his powerful presence another. And, given the nature of his role, it is for the best that he does not acknowledge his fans. [back] Note 17 A point of view shared by countless "tough cop" or revenge movies ("They raped his wife, killed his kids, and now he's out for revenge.") and TV shows. [back] Note 18 When two "good guys" meet, the match is clean, since nobody needs to be punished. In a match between Rowdy Roddy Piper and Bret "Hitman" Hart, Piper almost hit Hart with the timekeeper's bell, thought better of it, and threw away the bell, to the cheers of the audience. Had he been wrestling Ric Flair, he would have used the bell, and met with the same cheers. [back] Note 19 The Undertaker's first foe as an agent of Punishment was Colonel Mustafa, the hated representative of Iraq, most likely the "bad guy" fans then most wanted to face the ultimate punishment. The match itself was like the Persian Gulf War as seen through rose, white and blue colored glasses. Mustafa was the aggressor. He cheated immediately and was then quickly, cleanly and brutally defeated (cf. Nadelhaft: "Metawar. America's Pastime: Sports and the Persian Gulf War," forthcoming in the Journal of American Culture). [back] Note 20 Also, the nature of wrestling as spectacle introduces a rather large note of irony to its messages, allowing the spectators if they "get" the irony to treat lightly weighty themes such as the personification of death (cf. MacAloon 1984: 263). [back] Note 21 (15 of 16)11/21/2005 4:05:21 PM

16 The religious content of the WWF is harnessed to the patriotic content of the league. The total project is the dramatization of "good, patriotic American values." Religious morality is simple, understandable, and provides for the punishment of deviance. The religious wrestlers, like Hogan (whose crucifix dangles on the American flag that decorates his shirt), always link virtue, piety, and patriotism. Virtuous behavior, as exemplified by the WWF's vague religiosity, is American behavior, and vice versa. When "Hacksaw" Jim Duggan wrestles, he always leads the crowd in chants of "U.S.A.," even when he wrestles another American. But it is he, the "good guy," who is identified with America, by virtue of his moral standing. At the same time, the "bad guy," the deviant, stands accused of being un-american (that favorite piece of political rhetoric) because of his anti-social behavior. When they oppose Duggan, or Sgt. Slaughter, or Hulk Hogan, "bad guys" and what they represent seem not to love their country, one of the greatest sins of all those represented by the WWF. [back] Columbia Journal of American Studies. 1:1 (1995). (16 of 16)11/21/2005 4:05:21 PM