While several 1980s exposes of British wrestling are well known, including Jackie Pallo’s autobiography and Tony Walsh’s spilling of secrets to The Sun newspaper, there was in fact a much earlier and more in-depth public look at how the business operated. It takes place in a documentary which is floating around the British tape trading circuit and, rather than resting on the ‘shock’ of wrestling being fixed, provides a fascinating insight into the psychology of working matches.
Though the opening credits are missing and the show unidentified, it appears extremely likely it’s an episode of ‘Man Alive’, a highly-regarded documentary strand which aired on BBC2 from 1965-1981. Given that the film is in colour and refers to pre-decimal currency, it’s most likely to have aired between 1967 and 1971.
The show begins with Orig Williams, the era’s main Welsh promoter and one of the leading independent promoters of the time (Joint Promotions rarely ran shows in Wales). Williams would later provide matches on Welsh local television from 1982-1995 before becoming one of the main producers of ‘tribute’ shows featuring British grapplers in knock-offs of WWF gimmicks. Here he explains that “the bigger the man the better – you’ve got to be larger than life.”
This sets up footage of the Klondyke Brothers, Jake and Bill, two unkempt giants in the style of Haystacks Calhoun or Britain’s own Giant Haystacks, who are billed here at a combined 784 lbs. As they rile up a small but packed crowd, the film’s producer Trevor Philpott explains “They are always the dragon, their opponents always St George.”
He then reveals the reality of the men who play these roles. Bill in fact hails from a small Yorkshire town where he lives in public housing with his parents. We meet his mother, a grey haired old woman who, while serving his dinner, explains that she has never seen him wrestle because she is upset at seeing people boo him — though it’s entirely his own fault for riling them up. Bill’s parents never acknowledge themselves as such when he is making public appearances in character.
Bill then explains that the crowd makes him a villain by the way they treat him, and says locals are pleasant enough to him in real life because they see wrestling as an entirely different life to their everyday existence. We then cut to Bill, suitcase in hand, saying farewell to his girlfriend at the local supermarket where she lives. Despite being a petite lady, she is clearly henpecking the man she knows as Gordon and hopes to soon marry.
The next scene sees the two grapplers checking into a small hotel room (completely with visibly inadequate single beds) as Philpott explains that, unlike boxers, they wrestle virtually every night. “Their’s is a world of one night stands, railway platforms, egg and chips and hotels where you need a shilling for an electric fire.”
And he clarifies the purpose of a wrestler’s job: “You’re not in the ring to win championships, You’re there to sell a performance and you work as long as you can draw a crowd big enough to show a promoter a profit.”
An interview with the pair follows as they explain that being a villain is harder work because you take more punishment, both in and out of the ring. Tag matches are even more dangerous because one partner has to stand on the apron where they are an easier target for the crowd to attack. In the film’s only kayfabed moment, they explain that sometimes deliberately getting disqualified “loses them some money”, but is worthwhile because they draw more fans to future matches.
They then talk through their psychology: because the fans are more interested in seeing the larger (and uglier) Bill, Jake will usually work the first four or five minutes to build the anticipation. Bill then finally tags in, only to leave again within thirty seconds without even locking up with his opponent, which only serves to annoy the crowd more.
By keeping the matches different, they are able to draw crowds back even when they face the same opponents. The fans enjoy the independent shows because, unlike televised bouts, they are able to be rowdier and more involved. Bill and Jake even find out who the local ‘characters’ are at ringside and interact with them, to the point of deliberately leaving themselves open to being attacked with an umbrella.
We then see another match, as a Philpott voiceover re-iterates that “What you do to your opponent doesn’t matter, it’s what you can do to the crowd that decides your worth.” We soon see that tales of old women attacking the Klondykes with handbags are not exaggerated. The pair’s win bring many incensed fans up to the ring apron and, while no blows are thrown, they have to battle their way back to the dressing room.
Williams then argues that wrestlers do not have to be actors, merely larger than life. He points to the success of George Best who, while a skilled footballer, makes his name through “his gimmick”, and argues that a match featuring “Jack Jones vs George Smith” would be boring. In what was clearly a pre-political correctness era, Williams also suggests that “a little fellow doing a poof act” will always get over.
The next scene shows the ‘brothers’ walking around the town’s streets in the afternoon before a show, attracting attention with their unusual appearance, which serves as an extra form of publicity. If they encounter their opponents, they will stage an argument for onlookers, known in the trade as “doing a gee”.
The Klondykes then explain that women enjoy wrestling more because they are usually stuck at home the rest of the time. Men go to the pub or football to let off steam, while women do so at wrestling. “If you showed a woman film of how she acted she wouldn’t believe it.” The pair once had to call the police to rescue them from 12 angry women wielding stilettos and, while men are usually cowardly and throw bottles and chairs, women will confront you head on. The worst injury Bill has suffered came when a fan burnt his foot with a gas lighter but “the more boos and hisses, the better I’m doing my job. I’d get worried if I was wrestling and nobody attacked me.”
We then learn that part-time grapplers on Williams’ shows earn £8 a night, while a star such as Bill can make around £15 a show. (Without knowing the year, it’s difficult to assess how credible this is, or how much that sum is worth today. The film gives the impression it’s a decent amount, though not a fortune.)
Williams then admits that men become wrestlers to satisfy their egos and not just be a man in the street, though in Klondyke Bill’s case “what could he be but a wrestler?!”
The film’s conclusion is a bout pitting the brothers against Williams (who, not surprisingly, is the promotion’s lead babyface) and Chief Thunderbird, an alleged Native American. As we see all four changing together in the same room, Philpott reminds us that “No wrestler would deliberately injure another” but explains that most of the crowd understand this but put that knowledge to one side during the match.
We see extended highlights of the bout, as Philpott explains most of it is ad-libbed, and “the referee has to be very careful, and very skilful, to NOT be in the right place all the time”. The heels take advantage with their size and win the first fall with a nasty-looking splash. Williams and Thunderbird respond by abandoning the rules, using a chair and even whipping the ring announcer into their opponents. Eventually the Klondykes remove the padding from the ring post and throw Williams into the exposed steel hooks; as the crowd surrounds the ring, the heels are disqualified.
The film ends with Philpott explaining the psychology of the finish, pointing out that the Klondykes are “beaten, but not defeated in battle, disgraced but not conquered, their reputations still intact. They still haven’t taken the beating they deserve. Perhaps next time. One thing’s for sure: everybody will be back to see.”
