A number of names are bandied about in this documentary: heels, babyfaces, bullies. If a guy was an asshole, he’s called an asshole, and that no-holds-barred, candid nature is what makes Memphis Heat: The True Story of Memphis Wrasslin’ so watchable, even for those of us who don’t give a squat about the sport.
For the newbies among us, the Memphis style of wrestling, we’re told, is all about “fire and action,” thereby turning the goings-on within the ring into a meld of athleticism and circus acts (and sometimes a freak show). As the decades progress and the gimmicks are introduced, we see how a two-bit, traveling circuit eventually birthed a billion-dollar business, once Vince McMahon noticed the light bulb hovering above his noggin.
It’s a colorful history of pioneers like Gorgeous George, Sputnik Monroe (“He was the only person I know who could get run over by a Greyhound bus and not get hurt”), karate-chopping Tojo, black masked wrestler Sweet Ebony Diamond, arrogant Jackie Fargo (“I was meaner than a damn rattlesnake and tougher than a two-dollar steak”), the infamous Jerry Lawler and celebrity opponent Andy Kaufman, not to mention matches against bears and with midgets (“You could put midgets on your card, and your house would double. … I liked a lot of those midgets”).
These fine fellows are interviewed on camera by debuting director Chad Schaffler, and they mostly seem to pine for the days when they annually averaged 100,000 miles on the road and outdrew the World Series on local TV, and yet barely made a buck (with exceptions, of course). Because they’re not bitter and because they’re chock full of hysterical soundbites, Memphis Heat emerges as a winner, with very little bruising. —Rod Lott