Heroes And Villains 07.01.04: The Dilemma Of The New Guy

Archive

If you missed last week’s column, here it is. There was a brief error in the byline last week that was quickly corrected, but I thought I’d throw this out anyway.

Also, I’m including links to definitions of terms that some of you might not know. It’s the educator in me that makes me want to do such things.

THE DILEMMA OF INTRODUCING NEW CHARACTERS IN WRESTLING
The introduction of new talent into a promotion is a process that knows no end. Older wrestlers are constantly retiring, being fired, easing into new off-camera roles, or getting hurt. But there’s also an aesthetic reason to cycle in new faces on a regular basis. Simply put, fans enjoy seeing new faces. This is partly because they can shake up a stale product, but also because a new wrestler represents nothing but potential—unless you’re an eternal pessimist who automatically assumes that any given wrestler will more than likely suck. For the rest of us, a new wrestler is tabula rasa, potentially a new killer heel or entertaining babyface. Vince McMahon seems to have recognized this lately, as indicated by his remarks the week before the recent brand shake-up (“you want new faces,” etc.). Just when I thought that the WWE would concentrate on the talent that was already there, a tide of new wrestlers has brought in the likes of Tyson Tomko, Luther Rains, Mordecai, Eugene, and Kenzo Suzuki. The result is that there’s a bunch of new guys out there (particularly on Thursday nights), some of whom will inevitably get lost in the shuffle.

That, of course, is exactly what everyone (writers, wrestlers, agents, and, I suspect, the fans) wants to avoid. However, the promotion can’t just shove every new wrestler down our collective throat, or we’ll become numb to all attempts to introduce new guys. There has to be some variety in methods of unveiling new wrestlers. I see three basic models of character introduction, each of which involves a different degree of buildup involved. There are, of course, pros and cons to each method as well. Here they are.

1. Pre-packaged gimmicks
These are characters who arrive with fully-formed gimmicks. They typically have several weeks of buildup, usually via vignette, before their introduction—a long standing practice, from Outback Jack to Glacier to Nathan Jones. Wrestlers who are introduced in this manner frequently have some glaring weakness(es) which the bookers/writers try to mask by assigning a gimmick. The weekly vignettes educate the audience as to the basic elements of the character, so that a guy with little charisma or promo ability may get a decent reaction upon his debut. Other times the writers/bookers have cooked up the new gimmick first and then search for someone to fill it. Either way, the primary goal here is to get the gimmick/character over; getting the actual wrestler over is a secondary concern, if it’s a concern at all.

One potential problem with this type of introduction is the Val Venis syndrome—getting stuck with a gimmick that’s ultimately a dead end. It is true that fans immediately knew what to expect from Venis, and were thus more accepting of him when he finally debuted. And I admit that his character was perfect for some storylines (“choppy your pee pee,” sadly enough, being the best remembered angle of Venis’ career). Unfortunately for Sean Morley, Val Venis was never going to take him to the main event. Even a feud with another offbeat character, Mankind, failed to capture the interest of fans. The stripper/porn star gimmick stripped away too much dignity for anyone to treat him as anything more than the dreaded “mid-card novelty act.”

Another predicament that sometimes afflicts wrestlers with pre-packaged gimmicks is poor chemistry with other wrestlers. No character exists in a vacuum—wrestling is, by nature, about interaction among characters. And not every gimmick will survive in the environment into which it is thrust. Glacier, for instance, was a somewhat cartoony gimmick, a rip-off of the Mortal Kombat character Sub-Zero. But at the time of his introduction, WCW was in the throes of a monumental shift to a more realistic style of storytelling, with the entire promotion centering on the nWo vs. WCW angle. Glacier’s feud with Mortis and Wrath was straight out of the WWF of the early 90s. Though Glacier may never have caught on in any situation, he certainly would have had a better shot prior to the nWo angle.

Speaking purely from personal preference: Characters introduced with pre-packaged gimmicks rarely excite me, because the gimmicks are often too stereotypical or one-dimensional. I can’t get excited about a wrestler on the basis of his nationality alone. La Resistance has improved a great deal (be on the lookout for “Sylvain Grenier has really come a long way” to become a familiar refrain in the coming months), but they still look simplistic and dull compared to a conflicted, complex character like that which William Regal is now portraying. No one ever said, of course, that pre-packaged characters have to be like this. Two characters introduced last year, Nathan Jones and Sean O’Heir, seemed to promise a sea change: both had strong identifying characteristics, but had gimmicks that held room for significant growth (and possibly advancement up the card). Unfortunately, O’Heir’s character was completely dropped in favor of a short-lived alliance with Roddy Piper, exile to Velocity, and finally termination. Jones was hindered by injury, moonlighting as a gladiator in film productions, and management’s decision that he was far too green to be kept on the main roster. Despite this last development, Jones was back by the end of 2003, though any trace of his original character had been all but stripped away. Then, of course, he quit.

Since I know someone will email me about this (and rightfully so), I should also mention Kurt Angle. Waaay back in 1999, Angle was introduced via vignettes with a fairly well-developed character. Still, I would attribute Angle’s success to his natural charisma more than to the strength of the character cooked up by the writers—which, let’s face it, was little more than a caricature, of Angle’s “real” personality. As for Angle’s constant harping about his gold medals, it was obvious from the moment they signed him that the WWF would exploit Angle’s legit sports background. So I don’t give the WWF writers any credit for “inventing” Kurt Angle. He fell into their laps, ready to go.

Finally, I should note that some wrestlers do break free from limiting gimmicks to portray more interesting, realistic characters. Mick Foley used his storied career to completely revamp the Mankind character, without completely sacrificing continuity. (Brief aside: obsessive attention to continuity is not always a healthy thing for a company that counts on keeping a mass audience. One day I’ll write yet another iteration of the comics-wrestling comparison which will emphasize this point.) Undertaker, whose original gimmick seemed certain to have a limited shelf life (at least in retrospect), has managed to add dimension to his character. It’s a welcome surprise to see that the new “Dead Man” character has not completely undone these years of growth. Undertaker and Mankind, however, seem to be exceptions to the rule. It’s rare that a wrestler with a pre-packaged gimmick is able to achieve such longevity or success.

2. Association with existing characters
This type of introduction confers some of the advantages of the pre-packaged gimmicks, but leaves greater room for adaptation. There are two main types here: the bodyguard/enforcer (Batista) and the hired gun (Team Angle). Wrestlers introduced as bodyguards are often great big guys who are still, shall we say, a bit unpolished in the ring and on the mike. This type of role allows them to stand around and look menacing (by posing and making faces while their associates deliver promos) and deliver devastating finishing maneuvers on the enemies of their associates. It doesn’t ask them to carry the burden of being an independent character, as this would totally expose them. The best-case scenario here would be Diesel, who was able to garner heat as Shawn Michaels’ bodyguard before striking out on his own. If he’d been introduced directly as an independent competitor, he would have been painfully exposed. Instead, the bodyguard role sheltered Diesel/Nash while keeping him in a prominent role. This is, I think, clearly the model being used for Batista right now.

Unfortunately, for every Diesel, there are dozens of Bull Buchanans. Too often have big men, completely unready for the big leagues, been put into this role in the hope that the audience would clamor for the big guy to turn on his obnoxious employer. There are typically two problems at work when this strategy fails:
(1) No one cares about the employer. Would anyone have taken Batista seriously if he had remained with Rev. D-Von?
(2) We’ve been inundated with wrestlers in this role, and are now hesitant to get behind anyone who is introduced in this way.

This is less of a problem for the “hired gun” characters, such as Team Angle (or Vampiro, during his recent TNA run), as their immediate connection with another wrestler gives them instant credibility—it’s implied that they’re a cut above the average new guy, and they have immediate motivation (going after the assigned target). Plus, for whatever reason, bookers seem a bit more hesitant to use this type of introduction.

3. No introduction at all
The wrestler just shows up one week on television. This has been a common style of introduction in the WWE, particularly on Smackdown, in recent years (some, in fact, would attribute this to short-sighted booking). Among the wrestlers introduced this way are John Cena, Randy Orton, Brian Kendrick, the Bashams, and Orlando Jordan. Many internet fans dislike this type of character intro, feeling that it demeans the wrestler by implying that they are not “special” enough to warrant a massive buildup. I disagree. To me, the message implied here is that these wrestlers are good enough to make it on their own without additional accoutrements—it’s what you might consider the “athlete’s introduction.” It suggests that these are guys who just want to compete. That’s not enough to get them over in the long term, but in the short term it works fine.

This is, to me at least, the ideal form of introduction. This gives the audience time to get to know a new wrestler—and as I argued last week, this is time that should be spent establishing the basic personality traits of the new character. Once that is done, and only once that is done, the wrestler and the writers can start worrying about creating a fully formed gimmick or character. Take the case of John Cena. Before he adopted the hip hop gimmick, he had already established a personality trait that is absolutely central to our understanding of him. Cena clearly lacked respect for authority figures, confident that he was good enough NOW, and didn’t need to pay his dues or show deference or any of those other things that less talented veterans expect from brash young upstarts. That’s a great center for a character, because it can work as both a heel (the Undertaker feud) or a face (the current feud with Angle, or the previous one with Heyman). The rapper gimmick fit in perfectly with this character, and enhanced it in many ways. As a heel, he was an annoying (and possibly delusional) white guy who was embracing Black culture—a figure of general contempt, cutting across class and race barriers. As a face, he embodies the more positive rebellious aspects of hip-hop culture. (In theory at least—as Matt Biscutti noted a few weeks ago in Stephen Randle’s news report, Cena may be moving toward being more of a crowd-pleasing Rock-type face, rather than the rebellious Austin-type face he originally portrayed.)

Now, if you’ll permit me to indulge in another counterfactual, let’s consider the possibility that Cena had been given the rapper gimmick from the beginning. Had he been introduced as a babyface with that gimmick, he would have been a PN News for the new century. As a heel he would likely have been moderately more successful, but we undoubtedly would have endured many “Pretty Fly for a White Guy” type sketches. Cena would have been portrayed as a buffoon, making a face turn all the more difficult. Thankfully for Cena, however, his character was established enough that the rapper gimmick added momentum rather than posing an obstacle.

Now, having stated my personal preference for the “no introduction” type, let me say that I don’t pretend that every new wrestler could be introduced that way. If this was the case, the current deluge of new faces would numb fans, making it nearly impossible to ever establish successful characters for anybody. There should be a mix of these three types, as diverse introductions help maintain the mixture of spontaneity and buildup that is essential to the modern wrestling product.

SPECIAL BONUS COVERAGE: THE MORDECAI DILEMMA
Mordecai may be the most-discussed new character since the buzz of excitement over O’Heir and Nathan Jones dissipated into disappointment (alliteration intended). Not everyone was thrilled by his vignettes (an understatement if I’ve ever made one), but there did seem to be a general eagerness to see what would happen. Well, here we are about a month and a half after his debut, and that buzz seems to have dissolved into a mild hum. Those who watched the Great American Bash (I am not among their number because grad students must be exercise caution and frugality in purchasing PPVs) report that crowd reaction was fairly mild during his match. So I’m fairly confident in claiming that both mainstream and diehard fans are losing interest in Mordecai. Why is that? Was the character inherently flawed? Not necessarily, but there are three immediate problems confronting the writers and Mordecai/Kevin Fertig himself.

In writing this, I’m assuming that the writers intend for Mordecai to be a monster heel. I’m not worrying about potential problems that would confront him in the event of a face turn, but that’s a legitimate concern. But one step at a time.

Appearance
I read a recent comment (can’t remember where, but probably on this site—apologies to whoever wrote this) that Mordecai’s outfit makes him look like Jeff Jarrett, circa 1997. No doubt about it, that ring gear isn’t going to strike fear in anyone’s heart. The problem here is that Vince and the gang clearly want Mordecai to be associated with the color white, but white ring gear usually looks pretty dumb. I’m stumped as to how to reconcile Mordecai’s color scheme with his need to look like a badass. Any suggestions?

The problems with Mordecai’s look don’t end with his ring gear. An even greater concern is that Mordecai’s complexion, bleached white hair, and baby fat combine to make him look like Santa Claus. Since I assume that they’re not going for a new version of Xanta Klaus with Mordecai, I offer a few suggestions. You can’t do anything about Kevin Fertig’s face without resorting to plastic surgery, and I’m not about to advocate that, so we’ll stick to his hair and complexion. There are two options here: either make the hair color more like silver or gray, or make his skin paler. I’d go with the latter, since it’s simpler, and allows them to continue the white color motif. Mordecai should stop tanning immediately. He should even consider applying some light makeup to make his complexion even paler. Something to darken his eyes might even be good idea—not to the extent of the Undertaker, who looks like Captain Jack Sparrow these days, but just enough to make him look more sinister and less jolly.

His portrayal on television
I don’t get the feeling that Mordecai is terrifying the other wrestlers. It’s a fine line here, as you don’t want to make rest of the roster to look like cowards, but the WWE/F have usually maintained a good balance with Undertaker and Kane. It’s not enough that Cole and Tazz get unnerved; Cole is supposed to be a wimp anyway. Tazz could say more to differentiate Mordecai from other wrestlers—his years of experience and overall credibility could help get Mordecai over, but he should be more evocative when selling Mordecai as an elemental terror. Meanwhile, someone a bit more formidable than Bob Holly should start expressing concern over this new monster. Beating up Scotty 2 Hotty ain’t impressing anybody.

Plans have changed
Depending on which news source you trust, the plan for Mordecai may have been to feud with Undertaker. That can’t possibly be in the cards anymore after the Great American Bash. The last thing that either the recently-turned Taker or the newly-introduced Mordecai needs is a heel vs. heel feud. So we have to assume that Mordecai doesn’t have that feud ahead of him. The other possibility is a feud with Eddie Guerrero, but I don’t see Guerrero being detached from Bradshaw any time soon (since that would leave Mr. Layfield without a credible challenger). Feuds with RVD and Cena are possible, and would probably work, but it doesn’t seem like they’re going in that direction any time soon. Mordecai needs to be given a fairly high profile feud, or else he’ll be quickly forgotten. The Undertaker heel turn, assuming that this is the plan, might also hurt Mordecai in that he’ll no longer be the only flashy monster heel on the show—and the Undertaker will almost certainly overshadow him in this case.

An even greater potential problem is in the forthcoming change to the writing staff (assuming that such a thing ever transpires). Bruce Pritchard is supposedly the mastermind behind the current gimmick-heavy Smackdown product, but who knows how the upcoming changes will affect him? Meltzer consistently reports that Vince McMahon is a mercurial figure, constantly changing plans with little or no warning. Is the Mordecai character strong enough to withstand an abrupt change in the creative direction to Smackdown? Would a new writing staff continue to push Mordecai in good faith, or would he be buried as a vestige of an old, discredited regime?

The way he speaks
Is it just me, or does Mordecai have a slight lisp? If so, there’s a long road ahead to get him over.

Anyway, Mordecai is wrestling on Smackdown tonight. Check him out and tell me what you think—assuming that you’re not on the anti-Smackdown bandwagon. I’ll include some feedback on this subject next week.

HAPPY TRAILS
Let me once again exhort you to read my fellow new columnists’ work. Rob Byers in particular has a column which is getting a lot of attention—it’s not all positive, either, and that alone should convince you that he might be on to something. And of course, you should take the time every Saturday (or Sunday, once you’ve finished reading Randle) to read my benefactor Ross Williams’ news report. And why not take this opportunity to check out something from another zone (especially if you’ve never done so before)? Although I lament the loss of Lee Baxley, the games section remains uncompromising in its standards. I frequently disagree with them, but what applies to Rob Byers applies to them as well.

Next week: I’m not sure yet. Either What happens to a character when a wrestler turns face or heel? or What does pursuing the title have to do with character development? and probably some email.