Nothing wrong with that. I was a 14-year-old pro wrestling fan once, but this was back when Rowdy Roddy Piper and the Iron Sheik still roamed the ring. I once had a series of very vivid dreams that Junkyard Dog and King Kong Bundy were living in my bedroom closet. At night, they would come out to play Dungeons & Dragons and discuss Reagan’s economic policies. I wish I could say I was making this up.
Like most other kids, I lost interest in pro wrestling when I discovered girls and marijuana, but I’ve kept track of things in a kind of peripheral way over the years. I’m aware, for instance, that Hulk Hogan turned into a bad guy at one point.
Familiar Stories and Wandering Thoughts
So my hopes weren’t high when I was rope-a-doped into seeing Knucklehead. Clearly, Wight is aiming for a Rock-like career shift into family entertainment.
The set-up goes like this: Wight plays Walter Kronk, the 30-something resident of a church-run orphanage otherwise populated by feisty, adorable Oliver Twist types.
Walter never got adopted, you see, because he was six feet tall at ten-years-old. Now seven feet tall and 450 pounds, Walter remains with head nun Sister Francesca (Wendy Malick) until the day when he accidentally burns down part of the orphanage.
And so, in the manner of the Blues Brothers and 1,000 lesser screenplays, it seems the orphanage needs money fast, and it’s up to Walter to hit the road and save the day.
He teams with down-and-out fight manager Eddie Sullivan (veteran TV actor Eddie Feuerstein), who also needs quick cash. Together with a chaperone from the orphanage (Melora Hardin, The Office), Eddie and Walter cross the country to compete in a series of bare-knuckle bouts, which are now apparently referred to as mixed martial arts competitions.
It occurred to me that Clint Eastwood used to make these kinds of movies – often with an orangutan – back when he made good movies. Perhaps this is unfair. But based on his recent movies, Eastwood has to be the most overrated director working today. Invictus and especially Gran Torino are just aggressively bad movies.
Clearly, Knucklehead gives your mind lots of time to wander. This is basically an odd-couple tag team comedy, peppered with an underdog sports story, and stitched together with chapter titles from the freshman Intro to Screenwriting textbook. Just like every pro wrestling script ever penned. (The movie is a production of WWE Films, of course.)
And that the ‘80s entity WWF (World Wrestling Federation) had to change its name when the other WWF, the World Wildlife Fund, objected to the acronymic encroachment. This might seem silly, until you consider the case of George “The Animal” Steele, who really could have qualified for a paycheck from either organization.
In recent years, I’ve become aware of wrestling again due to the film career of former WWF star Dwane “The Rock” Johnson. My kids have an inexplicable love for this guy, whose many family films – each terrible in its own earnest, unique way – are in heavy rotation on our DVD player. By my calculations, Johnson owes me three years of my life back. I want them now.
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