An essay I wrote on 2 wrestling documentaries
Aug 18, 2014 12:52:57 GMT -5
KAMALARAMBO: BOOMSHAKALAKA!!! likes this
Post by mcstoklasa on Aug 18, 2014 12:52:57 GMT -5
Is this the right section for this? I got a decent mark for this and since it's about wrestling, thought I would share.
The documentaries are Beyond the Mat and Finding Hulk Hogan. Also Little Dieter needs to fly (not about wrestling). All worth watching.
Compare the form and style of two or more documentary films showing how – if at all – these differences affect or are determined by the different subject matter of the films discussed.
In this essay I will be comparing the form and style of two documentaries which both take a look at professional wrestling; Beyond the Mat (Barry Blaustein, Lionsgate Films, USA, 1999) and Finding Hulk Hogan (Bischoff/Hervey Entertainment, USA, 2010). The former takes a wider look at wrestling, dealing with a number of different characters, and sets out to show you the sobering reality behind the larger than life characters portrayed in the ring. Blaustein, early on in the film in voice over, also states that he knows wrestling is just a pre-determined ‘show’, but promises to reveal to the audience that wrestling is not as ‘fake as you think.’ Finding Hulk Hogan focuses solely on the protagonist featured in the title, Hulk Hogan, who has endured a harsh few years in the public eye; allegations of Hogan having an affair came to light, there was a costly divorce in which his ex-wife took 70% of the couple's liquid assets, and his son was responsible for paralysing someone from driving recklessly which resulted in another messy court case for Hogan. He has also had eight back surgeries (when he is yet to hit sixty years old) in recent years which have taken their toll. The Hogan documentary therefore revolves around the idea of Hogan overcoming these odds stacked against him and staging a comeback, both in life, and in the wrestling ring. Both documentaries share a lot of the same subject matter: the ‘fall from grace’ (wrestling in sold out arenas to an audience of 50,000 fans to wrestling in empty bingo halls), the self-destructive natures of the people in the business including the drug problems, and the physical toll that wrestlers bodies take over the years.
The two films may both be about professional wrestling; however they differ greatly in the way they present their respective stories to the audience.
Finding Hulk Hogan is an incredibly slick and glossy presentation. It opens with a morose Hulk Hogan addressing the camera whilst driving along a sunny highway. The shot is an intimate close up, as if Hogan is letting us into his personal life. The onscreen text informs us that: “At 57 years old, Hulk Hogan begins a journey back to professional wrestling.” The lonesome sound of minor chords being plucked on a guitar rings out, whilst images flash up on the screen from Hogan’s past. The images are mainly from his ‘heyday’ in the 1980’s, when he was the biggest wrestling star in the world. As these appear we have the voiceover from Hogan’s interview continue as he states “I’m not the same guy anymore…That guy you knew before, that wasn’t me. This is the real me”, almost addressing the presence of those images from his past. Cut between these images is staged footage of present day Hogan, putting on his wrestling attire in front of a symmetrical background of many bright, circular lights. The footage is slowed down as Hogan ties up his boots. It is highly stylised, covering Hogan in a multitude of different angles; close ups as he ties the laces, a close up of Hogan looking reflective, posing etc. Of course this didn’t naturally happen, and if Hogan does normally get dressed in front of a row of lights, which is unlikely, he probably isn’t normally covered by multiple cameras all shooting in slow motion. However, this visual is Hogan at his most recognisable (in wrestling attire) and it empowers him, shooting him in slow motion as he ‘prepares’ for the inevitable comeback. Once the drums come in and the music picks up pace, the images flash up faster and faster, in a quick montage style. There is a reliance on foreshadowing as the images flash by. We see very quick cuts of pills, a pistol and some of Hogan re-enacting of what he claims was a suicide attempt, footage of Hogan bloodied after a recent match (the comeback match in question), close ups of the spine of a medical skeleton etc. These images will all appear again later in the film, but here they flash by, intercut with images from his glory years, pictures of his family, and more shots of Hulk brooding in front of bright lights. It is a clear attempt to briefly summarise the story in montage and sum up the trials and tribulations Hogan has gone through, as well as entice the viewer into watching the rest of the piece (this was a made for TV documentary), and leaving them asking questions. Why is there a shot of a gun? Why is there a shot of pills and a medical skeleton? One technique however combines both foreshadowing and also a nostalgic look back at the same time. That is the fading in of the sound of fans chanting “Hogan! Hogan! Hogan!” which from one perspective demonstrates his past: fans chanting his names when he was the biggest wrestling star in the world. Yet it also indicates what Hogan hopes to hear again, when his ‘comeback’ is complete. The chants and music get louder, in what seems to be attempt to rouse the audience to side with Hogan, to get them to want to cheer him too.
After the intro, the next scene again opens with text on screen, this time informing us how he has had a three decade career and made hundreds of millions of dollars, but “In less than three years… he lost it all”. This immediately paints Hogan as the victim. The audience have just been persuaded to side with him via the use of foreshadowing and the rousing music and ‘Hogan’ chant, and now he is again portrayed sympathetically. Like the intro, this is all shot in rather an aesthetic fashion. First we have an establishing shot of Hogan’s house, followed by pretty close ups of rippling water and pets, and panning shots through the home, all while the sympathy inducing text appears on screen. More text about Hogan losing most of his millions in his divorce case and being forced to sell off assets is intended to make us feel sorry for our protagonist. Hogan is reintroduced in a long panning shot; he is bathed in shadow with his back to camera, looking longingly out of a window. The entire documentary is incredibly stylized, and feels far more expensive than Beyond the Mat. In fact it cost $300,000. $200,000 less then Beyond the Mat (The latter’s cost is probably because it was shot over a number of years unlike the Hogan film). For example there are shots that track sideways from one side of a room, past Hogan, and keep going, which surely would have taken a laborious amount of time to get right. Certainly more so than the (mostly) down and dirty single, handheld camera style we are mostly treated to in Beyond the Mat.
Finding Hulk Hogan feels like they filmed Hogan in a number of talking heads, then upon examining this material, they went back and had Hogan act out a number of scenes to fit the material he spoke about and to allow them as many different angles as they could get. The vast majority of the footage of Hogan in the house, aside from the talking heads, features Hogan re-enacting a typical day for him, with the voiceover carrying over from the interview. “The function of the screened interview is to underline the credibility being rendered… A documentary may begin with subjects being interviewed… but, as they develop their ideas or unfurl their memories, plentiful opportunities are afforded for pulling in other material to illustrate.” (Kilborn & Izod, 1997, p. 202) As Hogan talks, in voiceover, about all the injuries he has built up from wrestling for thirty years, and the pain he is in, Hogan in the re-enactment opens up a cupboard full of medication and pain pills. Thus “right on cue come the visual, documentary records of these same events.” (Kilborn & Izod, 1997, p. 203) The camera whip pans across the row of pill containers so we take in the full horror. We see Hogan holding a pain pill in close up, and then there is a jump cut to a different bottle of medication he has to take, and another jump cut and so on. In close up we see Hogan drop them into a glass, and the footage slows down so the audience really takes it in as the tablets drop. Just like in Little Dieter Needs to Fly (Werner Herzog, Werner Herzog Filmproduktion, Germany, 1998) Hogan is re-enacting something that happened to himself, although he is not addressing the camera during the re-enactments, only through interview, unlike Dieter Dengler. This is interesting as it brings me to a point made by Bill Nichols; “Actors can never be the person they imitate in re-enactments… The historical person is either deceased or no longer the person s/he used to be.” (Nichols, in Renov (Ed.), 1993, p. 177) In fact agreeing with Nichols, Hogan actually says at the start of the film “I’m not the same guy anymore” whilst old photographs of a younger, stronger, more vibrant looking version of him flashes up on the screen. Yet here we have two people going back over their pasts, re-enacting their own actions, suggesting “there is something to be gained on the viewer’s part from watching the cinematic subject re-experience moments from the past.” (Prager, 2007,P.154)
The most notable example of this is when Hogan relays to the camera the moment when he claims he considered suicide. He states how when he came back to the house after his wife first left him, no one was there and no one would answer the phone to him. Hogan’s voiceover tells us he felt lost and confused, again “right on cue” comes a re-enactment; a visual cue for the audience. Rather than simply stylised footage that could be a documentary, this feels like footage taken straight from a dramatic movie. We see murky shots of Hogan, shown shirtless, and acting depressed with heavy eyelids (for the re-enactment) with lots of close-ups, panning shots and use of rack focus as he stares into a mirror. Again, it is very slick, and very movie like. Sinister non-diegetic music is heard as Hogan’s voiceover talks about drinking heavily and taking pills. The on-screen Hogan acts this out. The music turns darker as the camera dramatically pans to reveal Hogan holding a gun, rubbing it against his temple. Multiple angles are shown of Hogan holding the gun, presumably contemplating suicide, as a cut to Hogan in the talking head shows his voice cracking with emotion and his eyes filling with tears. “I was just thinking… this is the ticket...this is real easy (to commit suicide)” says Hogan. It may seem ridiculous to compare a television special about a wrestler to a film about a soldiers harrowing Vietnam experience, but there really is a great similarity in style here, despite the very different subject matter. Of course there are differences even in form; Dengler is talking and vaguely demonstrating/re-enacting simultaneously whilst Hogan is relaying his story through the medium of the interview whilst the editors cut to very filmic footage of Hogan vividly re-enacting his experience. There is one case when Dieter’s hands are tied behind his back by the Asian actors; “This feels a little too close to home” he says, but mostly Dieter leaves a lot of the exact actions to the imagination. Prager argues that Herzog putting Dieter through the ordeal of the re-enactment was in the hope that he would garner a memorable reaction, but by having Dieter re-enact something awful from his past could be seen as the director “putting someone in a position where they might experience a terror from the past…for the sake of the film”. (Prager, 2007,P.154) The director of the Hogan documentary has Hogan re-enact his moment with the gun, mugging for the camera, and for his part Hogan seems perfectly eager to do so, to aid the dramatic power of the film. However, actually seeing Hogan re-enacting something that was supposed to be horrific for him cheapens the moment and makes one question how horrific it really was if Hogan can return to it so easily. It would have been better served to have followed Dieters example and have Hogan perhaps return to the room and tell the documentary crew how events transpired rather than actually act them out.
Whilst it leaves a more lasting impression and is far more harrowing (in my opinion), Dengler’s story is actually dealt with far less over the top dramatics than Hogan’s. Dengler is fairly jovial, even joking with one of the men who represent his past captors (although whether even this joking exchange was staged or not I do not know), whereas Hogan is deathly serious. Whilst Hogan’s story relies on the cutaways to the re-enactment, Dengler is always in the re-enactment, forced to continually confront his past by being in the jungle surrounding. It feels like being in the same room as an interesting grandfather as he tells you his war tale. He is such a great storyteller, and the story itself powerful enough that no theatrics are required, location aside. I hate to be cynical and deny Hogan may have suffered his own problems, and I’m sure he did, but it is a lot harder to feel sorry for Hogan with his lament of “I’m not a millionaire now”, because after all, he is shown sitting in his own mansion, whereas Dengler is in a foreign jungle, and describes the harrowing tortures and physical hardships he suffered, as well as witnessing his own friend beheaded in front of him. The Hogan film really does feel like a manipulated, calculated grab for sympathy, as Hogan tries to navigate his way back to ‘the top’. Finding Hulk Hogan is produced by Bischoff Hervey Entertainment. Eric Bischoff is a close friend of Hulk Hogan. The executive producers of the piece are also listed as Eric Bischoff and Terry Bollea, which is Hulk Hogan’s real name.
I have seen how two films with different subject matter entirely (pro wrestler and a Vietnam vet) can have a similar form and style, now I will see how two documentaries with similar subject matter (pro wrestling) can be very different. The filmmaker, Barry Blaustein, who made Beyond the Mat, has a very personal touch on his film. It opens with a photograph of the filmmaker as a boy, which remains onscreen as grainy footage from an old wrestling match dissolves into shot. He talks about how he was mesmerised watching these “strong guys taking matters into their own hands”. More onscreen wrestling action is shown before suddenly the camera zooms out to reveal the back of Blaustein, sat watching the screen as he reveals he still watches wrestling, but just doesn’t “tell a lot of people about it. Can you blame me?”
Beyond the Mat’s main difference, stylistically, when compared to Finding Hulk Hogan is that it has much more of a ‘fly on the wall’ feel to it. There are scenes of wrestlers backstage talking casually before a match for example. Blaustein shot the film over a number of years. A former wrestler Mick Foley, who features heavily in the documentary, says in his autobiography (not ghost written): “The World Wrestling Federation had agreed to give Barry access to all of the guys, and as a result, I was used to the camera being around sporadically.” (Foley, 2001, p.15/16) Foley repeatedly refers to a single camera, rather than a crew, which also gives me reason to believe that, as I suspected, this film was shot with only one camera (Actual match footage from the wrestling companies is also used however). It is just one of many reasons why it feels so different to Finding Hulk Hogan. If this was shot like the Hogan film, Foley would be made to sit down for a few hours to achieve a shot of him brooding whilst the camera crew set up a long, aesthetically pleasing, filmic, but totally unnatural tracking shot across the room.
In one scene we see footage of an excessively violent match between Mick Foley and another wrestler, ‘The Rock’. Of course, I know wrestling is pre-determined (Wrestling has openly admitted this for the last few decades, calling itself ‘sports-entertainment’ rather than wrestling) but this doesn’t mean that the wrestlers don’t take risks and don’t suffer injuries. In his book (which again is open about wrestling being predetermined) Foley details how he and The Rock planned the match. The Rock was to handcuff Foley and then they agreed The Rock would hit Foley five times in the head with a metal folding chair for dramatic effect. However as Foley writes; “Five shots. That’s all it was supposed to be… I knew exactly what was going on. I was in a match that had gotten carried away.” (Foley, 2001, p. 24/29) In the documentary Blaustein focused his camera on Foley’s wife and two young children’s reaction during the match (Again, they all knew it was pre-determined). Blaustein cuts to a shot of Foley’s youngest daughter, looking innocent and cherubic, yet also faintly lost and worried as she watches her father take risks to further his career and her future. Blaustein uses a particularly manipulative, yet emotional technique here as he keeps the shot on her for an extended period, fades out the sound of the crowd and the song ‘Stand By Me’ fades in. The shot of the confused little girl fades to white and then a montage begins. We see an idealistic shot of the little girl, her face now filled with joy, playing with her father. Blaustein cuts to Foley taking another risk, before he cuts to show the worried looking wife at the event, before cutting this time to Foley and his wife cuddling together on a hammock. Again we see Foley taking another risk, this time being thrown backwards off a stage, before now cutting to his young son and repeating the same formula. It is a blatantly manipulative piece of editing and seems to place a degree of guilt on Foley as a husband and father, yet could it be argued it was just representing the truth to some degree? Foley was putting himself as risk with his family in attendance, the ‘“fictive” elements’ (Renov, 1993, p.2), such as the musical accompaniment, just heighten the emotional impact.
“What I am arguing is that documentary shares the status of all discursive forms with regard to its tropic or figurative character devices of it fictional counterpart. The label of “nonfiction”, while a meaningful categorisation, may, in fact, lead us to discount its (necessarily) fictive elements. It would be unwise to assume that only fictive films appeal to the viewer’s imaginary.” (Renov, 1993, p.3)
We then see the aforementioned match that got out of hand. Blaustein uses the companies’ footage of Foley being bludgeoned with a chair far more times than the agreed number of five. Intercut between this is Blaustein’s footage of Foley’s wife becoming frantic and his little girl crying. They all leave ringside as the children become too upset. Blaustein wasn’t necessarily suggesting Foley was a bad father, as in a later scene after the match as Foley is stitched up; he is portrayed incredibly warmly as he jokes with his children that the cut is just a ‘boo boo’. As Mick Foley, with a bandage on his head, and his family exit the arena, the non-diegetic sound of ‘Stand By Me’ is again played as a call back to what just occurred. Through such devices, Blaustein’s editing is able to demonstrate the impact of the wrestling business on their families. In a moment of resolution for Foley, Blaustein plays Foley and his wife the footage of the night, wherein Foley is able to see for the first time how upset his family were. Foley winces upon seeing the footage and professes his guilt; “I don’t feel like such a good dad anymore”. During Foley’s interview where he professes his guilt, Blaustein intercuts again with Foley playing with his children, in which Foley states he will never take risks like that again, and “nothing is worth that.” It is almost like Blaustein has forced the guilt onto Foley for the benefit of the camera by showing him the footage, yet at the same time, by Foley’s admission of guilt he is able to come out of it looking not like a terrible father, but like a good father who made a mistake.
In this essay I have demonstrated how different two documentaries of the same subject can be and also how similar two documentaries of vastly different subjects can seem. The subject matter does not alter the form and style of the documentary, at least in the cases I have examined. A film about a pro wrestler trying to make a comeback is stylistically incredibly similar to a movie about a Vietnam veteran’s atrocious suffering. Both are glossy, slick presentations with the subject re-enacting the most horrific moment of their lives for the benefit of the camera. I also saw how different two films of the same genre, in this case professional wrestling, can be.
Bibliography:
Books
Foley, Mick (2001) Foley is Good, USA, Harper Collins
(Edited by) Izod, John, Kilborn, Richard & Hibberd, Matthew (2000) From Grierson to the Docu-Soap: Breaking the Boundaries, UK, Univeristy of Luton Press
Kilborn, R (2003) Staging the Real; Factual TV programming in the age of Big Brother, UK, Manchester University Press
Kilborn, R & Izod, J (1997) An Introduction to Television Documentary: Confronting Reality, UK, Manchester University Press
Macdonald, Kevin & Cousins, Mark (1996) Imagining Reality: The Faber Book of Documentary, London, Faber and Faber Limited
Nichols, Bill (1991) Representing Reality, USA, Indiana University Press
Prager, Brad (2007) The Cinema of Werner Herzog; Aesthetic Ecstasy and Truth, Wallflower
Rabiger, Michael (2009) Directing the Documentary 5th Edition, Focal Press
Rabiger, M (1998 Edition) Directing the Documentary, UK, Focal Press
(Edited by) Renov, Michael (1993) Theorizing Documentary, UK, Routledge
Renov, Michael (2004) The Subject of Documentary, USA, University of Minnesota Press
Spurlock, Morgan (2005) Don't eat this book, UK, Penguin Books
Winston, Brian (1995) Claiming the Real: The Documentary Film Revisited, London, British Film Institute
Online Resources
www.robertfulford.com/JohnGrierson.html Fulford, Robert (2000)
www.movingimagesource.us/articles/making-the-wrestler-real-20090213 Schwartz, David (2009)
www.ericbischoff.com/press/37-press/131-aae-presents-finding-hulk-hogan
The documentaries are Beyond the Mat and Finding Hulk Hogan. Also Little Dieter needs to fly (not about wrestling). All worth watching.
Compare the form and style of two or more documentary films showing how – if at all – these differences affect or are determined by the different subject matter of the films discussed.
In this essay I will be comparing the form and style of two documentaries which both take a look at professional wrestling; Beyond the Mat (Barry Blaustein, Lionsgate Films, USA, 1999) and Finding Hulk Hogan (Bischoff/Hervey Entertainment, USA, 2010). The former takes a wider look at wrestling, dealing with a number of different characters, and sets out to show you the sobering reality behind the larger than life characters portrayed in the ring. Blaustein, early on in the film in voice over, also states that he knows wrestling is just a pre-determined ‘show’, but promises to reveal to the audience that wrestling is not as ‘fake as you think.’ Finding Hulk Hogan focuses solely on the protagonist featured in the title, Hulk Hogan, who has endured a harsh few years in the public eye; allegations of Hogan having an affair came to light, there was a costly divorce in which his ex-wife took 70% of the couple's liquid assets, and his son was responsible for paralysing someone from driving recklessly which resulted in another messy court case for Hogan. He has also had eight back surgeries (when he is yet to hit sixty years old) in recent years which have taken their toll. The Hogan documentary therefore revolves around the idea of Hogan overcoming these odds stacked against him and staging a comeback, both in life, and in the wrestling ring. Both documentaries share a lot of the same subject matter: the ‘fall from grace’ (wrestling in sold out arenas to an audience of 50,000 fans to wrestling in empty bingo halls), the self-destructive natures of the people in the business including the drug problems, and the physical toll that wrestlers bodies take over the years.
The two films may both be about professional wrestling; however they differ greatly in the way they present their respective stories to the audience.
Finding Hulk Hogan is an incredibly slick and glossy presentation. It opens with a morose Hulk Hogan addressing the camera whilst driving along a sunny highway. The shot is an intimate close up, as if Hogan is letting us into his personal life. The onscreen text informs us that: “At 57 years old, Hulk Hogan begins a journey back to professional wrestling.” The lonesome sound of minor chords being plucked on a guitar rings out, whilst images flash up on the screen from Hogan’s past. The images are mainly from his ‘heyday’ in the 1980’s, when he was the biggest wrestling star in the world. As these appear we have the voiceover from Hogan’s interview continue as he states “I’m not the same guy anymore…That guy you knew before, that wasn’t me. This is the real me”, almost addressing the presence of those images from his past. Cut between these images is staged footage of present day Hogan, putting on his wrestling attire in front of a symmetrical background of many bright, circular lights. The footage is slowed down as Hogan ties up his boots. It is highly stylised, covering Hogan in a multitude of different angles; close ups as he ties the laces, a close up of Hogan looking reflective, posing etc. Of course this didn’t naturally happen, and if Hogan does normally get dressed in front of a row of lights, which is unlikely, he probably isn’t normally covered by multiple cameras all shooting in slow motion. However, this visual is Hogan at his most recognisable (in wrestling attire) and it empowers him, shooting him in slow motion as he ‘prepares’ for the inevitable comeback. Once the drums come in and the music picks up pace, the images flash up faster and faster, in a quick montage style. There is a reliance on foreshadowing as the images flash by. We see very quick cuts of pills, a pistol and some of Hogan re-enacting of what he claims was a suicide attempt, footage of Hogan bloodied after a recent match (the comeback match in question), close ups of the spine of a medical skeleton etc. These images will all appear again later in the film, but here they flash by, intercut with images from his glory years, pictures of his family, and more shots of Hulk brooding in front of bright lights. It is a clear attempt to briefly summarise the story in montage and sum up the trials and tribulations Hogan has gone through, as well as entice the viewer into watching the rest of the piece (this was a made for TV documentary), and leaving them asking questions. Why is there a shot of a gun? Why is there a shot of pills and a medical skeleton? One technique however combines both foreshadowing and also a nostalgic look back at the same time. That is the fading in of the sound of fans chanting “Hogan! Hogan! Hogan!” which from one perspective demonstrates his past: fans chanting his names when he was the biggest wrestling star in the world. Yet it also indicates what Hogan hopes to hear again, when his ‘comeback’ is complete. The chants and music get louder, in what seems to be attempt to rouse the audience to side with Hogan, to get them to want to cheer him too.
After the intro, the next scene again opens with text on screen, this time informing us how he has had a three decade career and made hundreds of millions of dollars, but “In less than three years… he lost it all”. This immediately paints Hogan as the victim. The audience have just been persuaded to side with him via the use of foreshadowing and the rousing music and ‘Hogan’ chant, and now he is again portrayed sympathetically. Like the intro, this is all shot in rather an aesthetic fashion. First we have an establishing shot of Hogan’s house, followed by pretty close ups of rippling water and pets, and panning shots through the home, all while the sympathy inducing text appears on screen. More text about Hogan losing most of his millions in his divorce case and being forced to sell off assets is intended to make us feel sorry for our protagonist. Hogan is reintroduced in a long panning shot; he is bathed in shadow with his back to camera, looking longingly out of a window. The entire documentary is incredibly stylized, and feels far more expensive than Beyond the Mat. In fact it cost $300,000. $200,000 less then Beyond the Mat (The latter’s cost is probably because it was shot over a number of years unlike the Hogan film). For example there are shots that track sideways from one side of a room, past Hogan, and keep going, which surely would have taken a laborious amount of time to get right. Certainly more so than the (mostly) down and dirty single, handheld camera style we are mostly treated to in Beyond the Mat.
Finding Hulk Hogan feels like they filmed Hogan in a number of talking heads, then upon examining this material, they went back and had Hogan act out a number of scenes to fit the material he spoke about and to allow them as many different angles as they could get. The vast majority of the footage of Hogan in the house, aside from the talking heads, features Hogan re-enacting a typical day for him, with the voiceover carrying over from the interview. “The function of the screened interview is to underline the credibility being rendered… A documentary may begin with subjects being interviewed… but, as they develop their ideas or unfurl their memories, plentiful opportunities are afforded for pulling in other material to illustrate.” (Kilborn & Izod, 1997, p. 202) As Hogan talks, in voiceover, about all the injuries he has built up from wrestling for thirty years, and the pain he is in, Hogan in the re-enactment opens up a cupboard full of medication and pain pills. Thus “right on cue come the visual, documentary records of these same events.” (Kilborn & Izod, 1997, p. 203) The camera whip pans across the row of pill containers so we take in the full horror. We see Hogan holding a pain pill in close up, and then there is a jump cut to a different bottle of medication he has to take, and another jump cut and so on. In close up we see Hogan drop them into a glass, and the footage slows down so the audience really takes it in as the tablets drop. Just like in Little Dieter Needs to Fly (Werner Herzog, Werner Herzog Filmproduktion, Germany, 1998) Hogan is re-enacting something that happened to himself, although he is not addressing the camera during the re-enactments, only through interview, unlike Dieter Dengler. This is interesting as it brings me to a point made by Bill Nichols; “Actors can never be the person they imitate in re-enactments… The historical person is either deceased or no longer the person s/he used to be.” (Nichols, in Renov (Ed.), 1993, p. 177) In fact agreeing with Nichols, Hogan actually says at the start of the film “I’m not the same guy anymore” whilst old photographs of a younger, stronger, more vibrant looking version of him flashes up on the screen. Yet here we have two people going back over their pasts, re-enacting their own actions, suggesting “there is something to be gained on the viewer’s part from watching the cinematic subject re-experience moments from the past.” (Prager, 2007,P.154)
The most notable example of this is when Hogan relays to the camera the moment when he claims he considered suicide. He states how when he came back to the house after his wife first left him, no one was there and no one would answer the phone to him. Hogan’s voiceover tells us he felt lost and confused, again “right on cue” comes a re-enactment; a visual cue for the audience. Rather than simply stylised footage that could be a documentary, this feels like footage taken straight from a dramatic movie. We see murky shots of Hogan, shown shirtless, and acting depressed with heavy eyelids (for the re-enactment) with lots of close-ups, panning shots and use of rack focus as he stares into a mirror. Again, it is very slick, and very movie like. Sinister non-diegetic music is heard as Hogan’s voiceover talks about drinking heavily and taking pills. The on-screen Hogan acts this out. The music turns darker as the camera dramatically pans to reveal Hogan holding a gun, rubbing it against his temple. Multiple angles are shown of Hogan holding the gun, presumably contemplating suicide, as a cut to Hogan in the talking head shows his voice cracking with emotion and his eyes filling with tears. “I was just thinking… this is the ticket...this is real easy (to commit suicide)” says Hogan. It may seem ridiculous to compare a television special about a wrestler to a film about a soldiers harrowing Vietnam experience, but there really is a great similarity in style here, despite the very different subject matter. Of course there are differences even in form; Dengler is talking and vaguely demonstrating/re-enacting simultaneously whilst Hogan is relaying his story through the medium of the interview whilst the editors cut to very filmic footage of Hogan vividly re-enacting his experience. There is one case when Dieter’s hands are tied behind his back by the Asian actors; “This feels a little too close to home” he says, but mostly Dieter leaves a lot of the exact actions to the imagination. Prager argues that Herzog putting Dieter through the ordeal of the re-enactment was in the hope that he would garner a memorable reaction, but by having Dieter re-enact something awful from his past could be seen as the director “putting someone in a position where they might experience a terror from the past…for the sake of the film”. (Prager, 2007,P.154) The director of the Hogan documentary has Hogan re-enact his moment with the gun, mugging for the camera, and for his part Hogan seems perfectly eager to do so, to aid the dramatic power of the film. However, actually seeing Hogan re-enacting something that was supposed to be horrific for him cheapens the moment and makes one question how horrific it really was if Hogan can return to it so easily. It would have been better served to have followed Dieters example and have Hogan perhaps return to the room and tell the documentary crew how events transpired rather than actually act them out.
Whilst it leaves a more lasting impression and is far more harrowing (in my opinion), Dengler’s story is actually dealt with far less over the top dramatics than Hogan’s. Dengler is fairly jovial, even joking with one of the men who represent his past captors (although whether even this joking exchange was staged or not I do not know), whereas Hogan is deathly serious. Whilst Hogan’s story relies on the cutaways to the re-enactment, Dengler is always in the re-enactment, forced to continually confront his past by being in the jungle surrounding. It feels like being in the same room as an interesting grandfather as he tells you his war tale. He is such a great storyteller, and the story itself powerful enough that no theatrics are required, location aside. I hate to be cynical and deny Hogan may have suffered his own problems, and I’m sure he did, but it is a lot harder to feel sorry for Hogan with his lament of “I’m not a millionaire now”, because after all, he is shown sitting in his own mansion, whereas Dengler is in a foreign jungle, and describes the harrowing tortures and physical hardships he suffered, as well as witnessing his own friend beheaded in front of him. The Hogan film really does feel like a manipulated, calculated grab for sympathy, as Hogan tries to navigate his way back to ‘the top’. Finding Hulk Hogan is produced by Bischoff Hervey Entertainment. Eric Bischoff is a close friend of Hulk Hogan. The executive producers of the piece are also listed as Eric Bischoff and Terry Bollea, which is Hulk Hogan’s real name.
I have seen how two films with different subject matter entirely (pro wrestler and a Vietnam vet) can have a similar form and style, now I will see how two documentaries with similar subject matter (pro wrestling) can be very different. The filmmaker, Barry Blaustein, who made Beyond the Mat, has a very personal touch on his film. It opens with a photograph of the filmmaker as a boy, which remains onscreen as grainy footage from an old wrestling match dissolves into shot. He talks about how he was mesmerised watching these “strong guys taking matters into their own hands”. More onscreen wrestling action is shown before suddenly the camera zooms out to reveal the back of Blaustein, sat watching the screen as he reveals he still watches wrestling, but just doesn’t “tell a lot of people about it. Can you blame me?”
Beyond the Mat’s main difference, stylistically, when compared to Finding Hulk Hogan is that it has much more of a ‘fly on the wall’ feel to it. There are scenes of wrestlers backstage talking casually before a match for example. Blaustein shot the film over a number of years. A former wrestler Mick Foley, who features heavily in the documentary, says in his autobiography (not ghost written): “The World Wrestling Federation had agreed to give Barry access to all of the guys, and as a result, I was used to the camera being around sporadically.” (Foley, 2001, p.15/16) Foley repeatedly refers to a single camera, rather than a crew, which also gives me reason to believe that, as I suspected, this film was shot with only one camera (Actual match footage from the wrestling companies is also used however). It is just one of many reasons why it feels so different to Finding Hulk Hogan. If this was shot like the Hogan film, Foley would be made to sit down for a few hours to achieve a shot of him brooding whilst the camera crew set up a long, aesthetically pleasing, filmic, but totally unnatural tracking shot across the room.
In one scene we see footage of an excessively violent match between Mick Foley and another wrestler, ‘The Rock’. Of course, I know wrestling is pre-determined (Wrestling has openly admitted this for the last few decades, calling itself ‘sports-entertainment’ rather than wrestling) but this doesn’t mean that the wrestlers don’t take risks and don’t suffer injuries. In his book (which again is open about wrestling being predetermined) Foley details how he and The Rock planned the match. The Rock was to handcuff Foley and then they agreed The Rock would hit Foley five times in the head with a metal folding chair for dramatic effect. However as Foley writes; “Five shots. That’s all it was supposed to be… I knew exactly what was going on. I was in a match that had gotten carried away.” (Foley, 2001, p. 24/29) In the documentary Blaustein focused his camera on Foley’s wife and two young children’s reaction during the match (Again, they all knew it was pre-determined). Blaustein cuts to a shot of Foley’s youngest daughter, looking innocent and cherubic, yet also faintly lost and worried as she watches her father take risks to further his career and her future. Blaustein uses a particularly manipulative, yet emotional technique here as he keeps the shot on her for an extended period, fades out the sound of the crowd and the song ‘Stand By Me’ fades in. The shot of the confused little girl fades to white and then a montage begins. We see an idealistic shot of the little girl, her face now filled with joy, playing with her father. Blaustein cuts to Foley taking another risk, before he cuts to show the worried looking wife at the event, before cutting this time to Foley and his wife cuddling together on a hammock. Again we see Foley taking another risk, this time being thrown backwards off a stage, before now cutting to his young son and repeating the same formula. It is a blatantly manipulative piece of editing and seems to place a degree of guilt on Foley as a husband and father, yet could it be argued it was just representing the truth to some degree? Foley was putting himself as risk with his family in attendance, the ‘“fictive” elements’ (Renov, 1993, p.2), such as the musical accompaniment, just heighten the emotional impact.
“What I am arguing is that documentary shares the status of all discursive forms with regard to its tropic or figurative character devices of it fictional counterpart. The label of “nonfiction”, while a meaningful categorisation, may, in fact, lead us to discount its (necessarily) fictive elements. It would be unwise to assume that only fictive films appeal to the viewer’s imaginary.” (Renov, 1993, p.3)
We then see the aforementioned match that got out of hand. Blaustein uses the companies’ footage of Foley being bludgeoned with a chair far more times than the agreed number of five. Intercut between this is Blaustein’s footage of Foley’s wife becoming frantic and his little girl crying. They all leave ringside as the children become too upset. Blaustein wasn’t necessarily suggesting Foley was a bad father, as in a later scene after the match as Foley is stitched up; he is portrayed incredibly warmly as he jokes with his children that the cut is just a ‘boo boo’. As Mick Foley, with a bandage on his head, and his family exit the arena, the non-diegetic sound of ‘Stand By Me’ is again played as a call back to what just occurred. Through such devices, Blaustein’s editing is able to demonstrate the impact of the wrestling business on their families. In a moment of resolution for Foley, Blaustein plays Foley and his wife the footage of the night, wherein Foley is able to see for the first time how upset his family were. Foley winces upon seeing the footage and professes his guilt; “I don’t feel like such a good dad anymore”. During Foley’s interview where he professes his guilt, Blaustein intercuts again with Foley playing with his children, in which Foley states he will never take risks like that again, and “nothing is worth that.” It is almost like Blaustein has forced the guilt onto Foley for the benefit of the camera by showing him the footage, yet at the same time, by Foley’s admission of guilt he is able to come out of it looking not like a terrible father, but like a good father who made a mistake.
In this essay I have demonstrated how different two documentaries of the same subject can be and also how similar two documentaries of vastly different subjects can seem. The subject matter does not alter the form and style of the documentary, at least in the cases I have examined. A film about a pro wrestler trying to make a comeback is stylistically incredibly similar to a movie about a Vietnam veteran’s atrocious suffering. Both are glossy, slick presentations with the subject re-enacting the most horrific moment of their lives for the benefit of the camera. I also saw how different two films of the same genre, in this case professional wrestling, can be.
Bibliography:
Books
Foley, Mick (2001) Foley is Good, USA, Harper Collins
(Edited by) Izod, John, Kilborn, Richard & Hibberd, Matthew (2000) From Grierson to the Docu-Soap: Breaking the Boundaries, UK, Univeristy of Luton Press
Kilborn, R (2003) Staging the Real; Factual TV programming in the age of Big Brother, UK, Manchester University Press
Kilborn, R & Izod, J (1997) An Introduction to Television Documentary: Confronting Reality, UK, Manchester University Press
Macdonald, Kevin & Cousins, Mark (1996) Imagining Reality: The Faber Book of Documentary, London, Faber and Faber Limited
Nichols, Bill (1991) Representing Reality, USA, Indiana University Press
Prager, Brad (2007) The Cinema of Werner Herzog; Aesthetic Ecstasy and Truth, Wallflower
Rabiger, Michael (2009) Directing the Documentary 5th Edition, Focal Press
Rabiger, M (1998 Edition) Directing the Documentary, UK, Focal Press
(Edited by) Renov, Michael (1993) Theorizing Documentary, UK, Routledge
Renov, Michael (2004) The Subject of Documentary, USA, University of Minnesota Press
Spurlock, Morgan (2005) Don't eat this book, UK, Penguin Books
Winston, Brian (1995) Claiming the Real: The Documentary Film Revisited, London, British Film Institute
Online Resources
www.robertfulford.com/JohnGrierson.html Fulford, Robert (2000)
www.movingimagesource.us/articles/making-the-wrestler-real-20090213 Schwartz, David (2009)
www.ericbischoff.com/press/37-press/131-aae-presents-finding-hulk-hogan