Part II: Diverting From the Script: Wrestling with Originality

Firstly, many thanks to those who left feedback on the first part of this article and their advice on continuing this theme. I suppose what lies at the heart of my thinking is the central power behind wrestling.

Originality is a difficult concept. With decades of history, wrestling has had to adapt to changing times whilst still trying to be innovative.

Creatively, we have seen clowns, taxmen, undertakers, narcissists, rattlesnakes, policemen, mounties, millionaires, billionaires, kings, patriots, and goths—just to name a few.

What actually works as a gimmick or as a character relies upon its originality. As mentioned before Stone Cold defined an era, he was revolutionary. Wrestling needed a hero, or anti-hero, and it was found in Steve Austin.  

Almost in an instant, well with one kick by Bret Hart, the wrestling world was turned on its head. Hart became the heel, Stone Cold the face. Wrestling was given something new, and it craved more.

Going back in history to 1990, and the arrival of the Undertaker. A concept of someone who feels no pain. Surely this would grow old? We know that he will win, so in order to keep our interest, it needed to be original.

Twenty years later and we still look to the Undertaker as a creative force. Originality in terms of matches, feuds and even appearance, sees the Deadman remain on top, even though most have now seen his human side.

Once in a lifetime characters are difficult to produce. Originality, history and crowd reception is crucial in defining a career.

Much of wrestling today, however, appears to be a product of creative teams working in Connecticut. It is too manufactured, we can almost see the strings.

Little is actually real in the cartoon world of wrestling, but if the audience believes what they are seeing is real, then they will enjoy it more.

Watching Wrestlemania 25 on DVD, I could not help but compare the commentary of Jim Ross, Michael Cole and Jerry Lawler.

Maybe its because I was brought up on JR, King, Gorilla Monsoon and Bobby Heenan, but Michael Cole as well as the rest of today's commentary team seem unable to deviate away from prompted scripts.

With JR and King, you get colourful commentaries that are perfectly weighted to each match. 

With the likes of Cole, Matthews and Striker, you get standard lines with little wit or imagination—how many times have they explained who the Hart Dynasty are? 

It is almost as if they are repeating what they hear in their earpieces—and maybe they are.

Wrestling fans respect JR and Lawler because they are real. Cole and Striker might still be new and comparisons maybe unfair but they lack originality. What area can we say that Cole is better than JR, or Striker better than King?

Too much in wrestling today seems to be contrived. Maybe as seasoned wrestling fans we are naturally more cynical but wrestling seems to lack a certain prestige and meaning. 

Gone seemingly are the storybook wrestling careers of the like of Shawn Michaels, Ric Flair and Bret Hart.

Wrestlers have no history anymore. We do not know them personally. We simply know their name and cheer when they win. There is little connection.

When Shawn Michaels won his first heavyweight title in 1996, it meant something because we knew his past. When Dwayne Johnson made his debut at the Survivor Series, it meant something because we knew his heritage.

And so the example of Bryan Danielson is the example I keep coming back to. He is not a typical wrestler, he does not fit in with the Nexus image nor is a John Cena, Steve Austin or Hulk Hogan.

He does not rely on a gimmick like the Undertaker or Sting. He is simply Bryan Danielson.

We know of Danielson's background, some have even watched his development; just as some watched Shawn Michaels as a Rocker, or Steve Austin as a Hollywood Blonde.  

True Grit in an era of manufactured supermen.

The marker for a wrestling superstar is not easily defined. What one fan may herald as a new dawn, another might reject out of hand. 

Creating a legend is not easy and its arguable that it is a natural process. Too much guidance and a wrestler becomes a standard performer. Trust them with a little leeway and magic can happen.

Imagine what would have happened had Steve Austin remained as the Ringmaster or if Rocky Maivia was the babyface champion of the 1990s. 

Would we have been watching? Perhaps...but as Stone Cold and the Rock, wrestling was revolutionised and the world began to watch.

Whether Danielson is a legend in the making depends on what path his character takes. Many careers have fallen because of a lack of creative direction. 

Danielson has made an impact on wrestling that few debutantes have done in recent years.

Given the right opportunity, WWE has a superstar in the making.

[Part One: http://bleacherreport.com/articles/439658-diverting-from-the-script-wrestling-with-originality]