You can blame Rob Reiner. True the idea of mock documentaries (mockumentaries) had been around since the 60’s with the seminal A Hard Day’s Night but it wasn’t until 1984 and This Is Spinal Tap that the genre as we know it today was defined. That film lay the blueprint for the rhythm of the genre, the buildup and payoff of jokes and the dry, ironic humor associated with the story’s “reality”. Since then we have bore witness to some equally impressive films (Rusty Cundieff’s seminal Fear Of A Black Hat (1994), Man Bites Dog (1992), Bruce McDonald’s Hard Core Logo (1996)) and some that could be politely considered utter failures. It has ever-been the plight of the mockumentary to ride the oft treacherous and ever shifting high wire of social satire, and like the brilliance of the Marx Brothers, few of them last beyond their historical zeitgeist. It is the rare mockumentary, like those listed above, that transcend the time in which they were made, communicate something more human, and seemingly without effort become a nostalgic classic outlasting the society it was designed to satire. Kayfabe is at its heart, one of those rare films.

The film presents the last few dates in a struggling independent wrestling organization TCICWF (Tri-Cities International Championship Wrestling Federation) and the lives of the wrestlers within. Unlike the televised high-profile wrestling companies, the stars of these independent shows hold regular day jobs and play to crowds of 50 people. The first few minutes of the film smartly present this world at its height, backstage during a show. Through a conversation between the promoter Al Thomson (Travis Watters who also plays Marco Pain the promotion’s color commentator) and “Rocket” Randy Tyler (Pete Smith who was also shared writing, producing and directing duties on the film) they set up the lingo, the feel and the construct of this world. Within moments the audience is caught up in the flow, and though some of the dialogue is stilted it comes off more like people being filmed backstage for the first time out of character rather than anything else (though Travis Watters’ “Al Thomson” comes off larger than life, it’s actually an accurate depiction and instantly reminded me of legendary Canadian promoter Tony Condello from the first grumbling sentence of profanity). This opening sequence had me at odds the first time through, it is a little slow and feels slightly disjointed, but it never once lost me. By the time the opening credits began presenting the various matches the rhythm of the film had found its footing and right to the last frame never once lost pace. Each character is well drawn, as is the in-ring work (most of the performers are working independent wrestlers) and the humor is cleverly interlaced throughout the film creating some truly memorable moments. The entire cast handles their characters with grace, (most having no previous film credits to their name), and breathe a sense of life into these people’s desires to be larger than life. Pete Smith’s Rocket Randy Tyler and Travis Watters in either of his roles are the stand outs of the film. Smith imbues his Randy Tyler (his real-world wrestling alter-ego) with the sort of endearing self deprecation that made Michael Palin so damn lovable and handles the lead role with subtle ease. Watters plays his roles to the hilt, lampooning every opportunity he gets in similar fashion, still there is a singular moment in the film given to him alone that shines; it’s an impassioned speech about wrestlers laying down to do a job verses getting over and ultimately their ego. This moment in the film is so elegantly handled by the filmmakers that you hang on Watters’ every word because you know what is being said isn’t acting, it’s not a joke and it comes from the singular heart of the people making this picture. In short it’s extraordinary.

It should be noted that at the time Kayfabe was released it was competing with Darren Aronofsky’s 2008 film The Wrestler starring Mickey Rourke. It’s unfortunate that so many comparisons have been drawn in the press between the two films just because they’re both set in the independent wrestling world, because in a lot of ways Kayfabe speaks to a more general audience than Aronofsky’s film. Where The Wrestler presented a solemn look at one man’s self-destructive journey Kayfabe is its antithesis in theme. It is a love letter to the life of the independent wrestler, but moreover it is an affirmation of the dreamer. On an entertainment level alone Kayfabe is vastly superior to The Wrestler and transcends the audience limitations of its subject matter.

When sitting down to write this review I thought long and hard about how it should be presented. Kayfabe isn’t just a mockumentary, it isn’t just a movie about wrestling, and it isn’t just a tongue-in-cheek comedy. Kayfabe is one of those special little films that reached and succeed at achieving so much more working its budgetary limitations mostly to its benefit throughout. It is an entertaining and uplifting film, with characters and tons of heart. It deftly illustrates the passion and lunacy of a business that lives and dies by the desire of its workers to perform each week for nothing more than the adulation of their friends. There is no fame here for them, just the satisfaction of delivering a great show. The film endears each character to the audience the way they would at a live wrestling show. The actors and filmmakers alike skillfully “work their gimmick” making Kayfabe a truly wonderful and memorable film. Not to mention one hell of a great show.

-Vance Garrett

Visit the official site: Kayfabe The Movie