My wife took this photo almost ten years ago when we were sitting ringside at a pro wrestling show in Philadelphia. It captures the essence of the hero’s quest, the showdown, David and Goliath, good guy versus bad guy.
Pro wrestling is live fantasy worldbuilding. A great source for lessons in psychology and storytelling.
If you smirk at pro wrestling, I’ll share this quick story. We invited some friends who were not fans to a wrestling show. They had not heard of anyone who was in the show and didn’t really know what to expect. As the show went on, when a particular wrestler was about to be pinned … one … two ... and then kicked out, our friends leapt from the edge of their seats in relief that their new-found hero was not vanquished.
As writers, I think we strive for the same connection when readers meet and journey with our characters.
Pro wrestling is a never-ending story. There is no offseason like in sports or episodic television, rather an ongoing ebb and flow of feuds, angles, and storylines. Drawing an audience for this week’s show is as important as what is planned to sustain or grow the audience for next week and the week after.
While fantasy worldbuilding and writing books are not the same as running Memphis’ Mid-South Coliseum every Monday night for fifty or so weeks a year, there are interesting parallels.
The reference above to Memphis and examples to follow harken back to the time of the wrestling territories when handshake deals divided the US into mostly non-competing zones of operation before the WWF’s expansion in the 1980s. Also important to keep in mind is that the territories made the bulk of their money on live attendance ticket sales, running the same towns on a weekly or monthly basis. Keeping the product fresh with a plot twist or something new was necessary to sustain the fans’ interest.
Playing the Long Game
Building interest in characters and main event matches happened through good storytelling. The babyface (good guy) developed his character through the hero’s journey. Wronged in some way (betrayed by a duplicitous tag team partner, cheated out of a title, injured in a backstage attack), the babyface bared his soul in interviews, beseeched the fans for support, swore revenge, and often faced a gauntlet of the heel (bad guy)’s henchmen to get that chance at vengeance. Most of these storylines lasted several months as they built to a crescendo.
Pro wrestling refers to matches with no storyline behind them as a cold match.
In contrast, heat is the term used to describe the audience’s reaction, the level of animosity, towards a heel. In the territory days, fan riots when a babyface was cheated were more common than we can imagine today. Talk about suspension of disbelief and immersion into a fantasy world.
Protect the Heroes and Villains
Does that crescendo have to be the end? When done well, pro wrestling excels at nuance and upping the stakes. If the babyface is pinned by the heel, is that the anticlimactic end of the story? No happy ending? Well, what if we protect the hero and build to something larger? What if the heel’s manager blinded the babyface with salt in the eyes? What if in a pivotal moment, the referee was distracted which allowed the devious heel to use brass knuckles?
The good guy didn’t actually lose. In fact, he needs a rematch! The drama increases and the story continues.
Maybe the babyface will get his revenge next week. Better buy a ticket. Better read on to the next chapter.
The same can apply to the villain. Is the villain really defeated by a 1-2-3 pinfall? Is that the end of the feud? What if the villain and his henchmen attack the hero immediately after the match and tarnish his victory? Or the villain interferes in the babyface’s first title defense and costs the hero the championship? The feud reignites.
One Story Ends, Another Begins
And yet, in the rhythm of telling stories, all good things must come to an end. Better for the storyteller to extinguish the candle at its brightest than for the reader’s interest to dim in a prolonged and fading finale.
In a fantasy series, there is always that balance of what is happening now and planting seeds for the future. New characters need to emerge. New villains and obstacles for the heroes.
When wrestling is done well, as one major storyline ends, a new one (that still has been building for a few weeks or months) is unleashed to take the place as the top-drawing feud for the company.
Everything in Moderation
Pacing. The healthy tension between keeping the audience engaged and not giving away too much. If you start a story with a hundred car pile-up action sequence, are you going to need something even more dramatic a few chapters later, or, at the end of the story?
Wrestling promoters were very mindful to give fans a great experience but also wary not to jump the shark in search of a quick payoff in a given week.
This was a known phenomenon in pro wrestling. Hotshotting. This meant a time when paced progression of feuds and angles was abandoned in favor of more sensationalized angles, temporarily bringing in extra star power from other territories, or several gimmick matches (such as a loser leaves town match or a cage match). This would provide a short-term boost to ticket sales and often be followed by a drop-off (which could last for an extended period). From a fan’s view, in the wake of a star-studded show, if feuds and matches on future shows seemed lacking, why attend?
In writing, certain scenes are impactful due to the emotions they invoke, and also based on the build-up and particular placement within the story. Pacing and context.
Leave a comment with your thoughts on the article. Have pro wrestlers been some of your favorite heroes or villains over the years?