People with little direct knowledge of professional wrestling are likely to find the comparison between Vince McMahon’s promotion and the circus apt. The image of clowns, elephants, and charlatans seems to represent accurately the odd subculture that is professional wrestling and the odd allure it has with some people. Obviously, as a wrestling fan, I find the intent of that analogy to be somewhat insulting. I prefer—and find more realistic—the comparison between pro wrestling and live theater. Insofar as jazz is seen as America’s one truly unique form of music, modern wrestling is a similarly unique invention in live theater—for the common man. Wrestling has thrived on and been financially dependent on presenting a show that will resonate and inspire a live audience.
So, whereas to give credit where it is due, I will acknowledge the potential genius of WWE Films. Wrestling has inspired the emotional loyalty of fans in the past—especially when it lets the natural propensities and emotions of its talent be exposed raw—and movies, whether as entertainment or more dramatic, could certainly be a logical extension of that inherent drama. Many wrestlers have a certain unpolished authenticity that I believe could carry well on screen.
But WWE, as usual, is playing this game for short-term profitability if their debut film “See No Evil” is any indication. The movie stars Kane as Jacob, the psychotic occupant of an abandoned hotel. Two police officers accompany eight young petty criminals assigned there for community service. Trapped there, they find Jacob’s lust for pulling out eyeballs and putting them in jars to be something more than the community service they intended.
The greatest horror movies have been good because they use the sordid and the violent to unearth the psychological and interpersonal reasons for problems within society. Others are good because the execution of the product is so exceptional (even to the point of absurdity) that they are fated to become classics. “See No Evil” is neither. This movie uses bad technique to cover up the initial lack of fresh thought and cleverness of the script.
As ridiculous as the movie’s intent and conception is, the execution manages to undermine what little the movie does offer in the way of thrills. Indeed, the scariest part of the experience watching “See No Evil” is the perilous notion that it will never end.
It goes without saying that this is an ungainly, bovine, and profane film. I could not expect anymore, really. This is, after all, still Vince McMahon’s WWE. Dan Madigan, the writer of the clichéd screenplay, is the former WWE writer who is best known for creating Mordecai the white knight of Smackdown for a few months in 2004 and the Hirohito gimmick for Kenzo Suzuki before it was nixed for being a culturally insensitive portrayal of the beloved, World War II-era Japanese emperor. Gregory Dark, who directed Kane—who spoke all of one line in the film—here, comes with an impressive portfolio of films, including “Hootermania” and “New Wave Hookers.” Unfortunately, the actors here lacked the on-camera presence Dark—I am sure—insisted of the actors in his other films.
Not that Kane, whom this vehicle was intended to promote, was overwhelming at anything besides being large and unattractive with long nails and bad teeth. In quarterly investor conference calls, Linda McMahon has indicated the purpose of these film projects is to promote the characters seen on the weekly wrestling broadcasts and build the product outside of the normal circles. In this critic’s assessment, Kane’s performance here did nothing to convince the audience that he was really all that scary. In these movies, fear is usually of the unknown, but there was no mystique to his presence in the film. Instead, the viewer is occasionally amused, disturbed, and indifferent to Glenn Jacobs as a psychotic killer. If doing scary things were in and of itself scary, John Cena’s wrestling might be the more apropos subject of WWE’s debut horror film.
Not all is lost with this product, though. This movie is on a fair amount of screens and the viewing I saw, on opening night, was just about sold out. This movie is not likely to have much staying power, but it will likely more than break even, if only just for curiosity’s sake. WWE may very well make enough money from this project to make it worth their while to produce other mediocre films for an undiscriminating public. If you want to see a wrestling monster in a movie, I would recommend Andre the Giant in the “Princess Diaries” well before I would this one, however. If you like the horror genre, this movie is far better than the stillborn “When a Stranger Calls” earlier this year.
That status will not convince anyone outside of wrestling that the product is worth watching, or that it has improved from the sideshow circus it has always been. And that might be more of a loss than the money WWE will pilfer from moviegoers this weekend.
Maybe Vince’s eyes should be the next to go.
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