Analyzing WWE's Slow Move Away from Stereotypical Characters

WWE is proof that evolution is painfully slow.

Just when you thought that pro wrestling's biggest company had entered an age where two-dimensional, stereotypical characters only existed in an era long gone, in walks Los Matadores.

The company's latest tag team is a pair of masked bullfighters. Primo and Epico are set to reenter the WWE fray, this time playing up a heritage that is not their own.

Both men come from a renowned Puerto Rican wrestling family—the Colons. After winning and losing the tag team titles, the duo has been repackaged, complete with neon-pink masks and traje de luces-inspired (suit of lights) ring gear.

For the most part, WWE has done away with oversimplified characters built primarily on stereotypes.

Today's Superstars include a short-fused, bearded man with a Napoleon complex, a tattooed, loud-mouthed rebel loner and an egotistical, high-energy show off. These are real characters with room for complexity and change.

Morphing Primo and Epico into Los Matadores shows that WWE hasn't quite removed relying on the ease of cliche.

Looking back at the company's history shows us how far WWE has gone in its journey toward more complex and genuine characters, leaving hackneyed ones in its wake.

WWE didn't create the Wild Samoans characters; they merely showcased them in the early '80s.

Capt. Lou Albano shepherded this team of island savages. The grunting, wild-haired vicious men were one of WWE's most successful and memorable tag teams, but certainly not a set of complex characters.

Afa and Sika are a part of one of wrestling's most famous families, the Anoai's.

Sika's son, Leati Anoa’i (Roman Reigns) is proof that a Samoan-American need not be typecast as a savage. Reigns' brooding mercenary character doesn't rely on his nationality.

As evidenced by men like Reigns and others, the company now seems more and more intent on moving toward characters worthy of theater more than relying on cartoons.

That wasn't the case in 1990 when Tony Atlas became Saba Simba.

Stereotypes aplenty built Simba's character. He danced to the ring wearing a feathered headdress and carrying a spear. Commentators acknowledged that Simba was the same man as Atlas.

They explained that he had gone back to Africa to revert back to, as Bobby Heenan puts it in the following video, "his savage ways."

Atlas was a former Mr. USA and a powerhouse with an infectious smile.

There was plenty of material from which to craft an intriguing character, but tossing him in generic African garb was the easier move. It's that same easy path WWE took when coming up with a way to book Rodney Anoa'i.

WWE had the Samoan-American play a Japanese sumo wrestler in the '90s.

Mr. Fuji accompanied and spoke for the brooding giant in mawashi-inspired ring gear. Fuji, who waved a Japanese flag on his way to the ring, spoke in a thick Japanese accent despite being American.

Who was Yokozuna beyond an angry, anti-American sumo wrestler? His character lacked depth and imagination and was the kind of gimmick that largely went away over the next several years.

Steve Austin was a beer-drinking, take-no-prisoners fighter of the likes we'd never seen before. The Rock, Mankind and Triple H were all characters hard to sum up as quickly as Yokuzuna, Simba or the Wild Samoans.

That shift continued past the Attitude Era when men like Edge later emerged as top stars.

Years earlier, Edge might have been put into a mountie or lumberjack costume to play up his Canadian heritage. Or else, WWE might have made an '80s version of Edge a hockey-themed wrestler.

Instead, he thrived as an opportunistic, wild-eyed madman; a character constructed from personality traits not stereotypes. WWE seemed to realize that fans wanted new characters, not preconceived notions hobbled together.

When it seemed like the 2000s was a model of progress in this department, WWE paired Finlay from Northen Ireland with a valet who just happened to be a leprechaun.

Today, when an Englishman like Wade Barrett avoids being a blueblood or Beefeater, you know the company is on the right track. Barrett instead is a former bareknuckle brawler, a man defined by words like "relentless" and "remorseless."

Sheamus is more than just an Irishman; he's a goofy but tough brawler. Drew McIntyre is an air-guitar-playing poseur rock star, not some Scottish caricature. Alberto Del Rio is conniving, merciless and pompous, as opposed as to some collection of Mexican stereotypes.

The peaceful sound of progress was interrupted by yodeling, though.

WWE has seemed continually unsure of how to sell Antonio Cesaro to the public. We've seen him show off language skills and lurch around the ring and, at one point, take to yodeling as he entered the ring.

Cesaro, being Swiss, was made to trade character depth for stereotype like so many of his predecessors. At least WWE didn't dress him in a blond wig and have him attack people with a mug of hot chocolate.

His current state of being a foreign transplant who believes he's a better American than Americans may or may not be the right move, but it's far more interesting than a yodeling wrestler. It requires more effort to create as well.

Los Matadores seem more of a step backward than Cesaro's brief yodeling phase.

Perhaps this pair of Puerto Ricans playing Spanish bullfighters will be more complex than expected. Maybe WWE has some multidimensional protagonists in mind for them, but, more than likely, this will be a remix of the part that Tito Santana played in the early '90s.

WWE has largely evolved away from stereotype-based characters, but among all the modern mammals, a few dinosaurs appear to be roaming around as well.