Despite my longstanding interest in professional wrestling and frequent investigations into its history the 1980s organisation GLOW had largely passed me by. Now, with the Netflix original drama based on the series having emerged, I thought I’d take a look back at its real life inspiration in the documentary GLOW: The Story of the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling.
At only 73 minutes the film is somewhat superficial and has something of the feel of a Louis Theroux’s Weird Weekends show, but without the leading investigator/presenter to ground it.
What we get instead are a series of fairly rapidly cut, loosely threaded, talking heads accompanied by archive footage of the original show alongside current footage of a few of the performers in their everyday lives.
Through this though a few interesting stories come to light, even if they aren’t fully explored.
First is how the show was put together, which somehow explains why it is often not included in the wider pro-wrestling canon.
Rather than relying on already established female wrestling talent (who, while few and far between did exist) of the mid-80s the conspicuously male production and creative team relied on an open casting call to bring in young models and actresses to fill their roster of performers.
While some had an interest or natural aptitude for the wrestling, many didn’t and the product was more of a variety ‘real-life cartoon’ than a wrestling show. While WWE (then WWF) was certainly veering in the cartoony direction around the same time, GLOW turned this up to 11.
In this segment we hear from the man tasked with training the performers, Mondo Guerrero (of the legendary Mexican/Texan wrestling family; brother of Eddie and Chavo, son of Gory) who seems to express a level of disbelief at the job his was given.
We also hear from Tina Ferrari who would become Ivory in WWF in the late 90s (real name Lisa Moretti) who was one of the few who seemed to get the wrestling and she becomes an invaluable addition to the documentary as the story rolls on given her experience from the smallest to biggest shows in the industry.
While the film seems to choose to focus more on the sisterhood of the performers than anything else this is far from entirely coherent, but, as we find out more about the promotions two biggest (in both senses) stars, it does coalesce somewhat.
Matilda The Hun was an older and seemingly more experienced wrestler when the show began in something of the mould of British wrestling legend Klondyke Kate.
While we see here in her prime we also see her now, partially wheel chair bound due to back injuries, though she clearly remains very much the same woman she always has been, bedecked in full ring attire and make up and not regretting anything of her years in the ring.
Somewhat more tragic is the story of Mountain Fiji, Matilda’s rival and GLOW’s top hero. A 350lb American-Samoan shot-putter in her heyday, she has since succumbed to injuries and diabetes leaving her permanently wheel chair bound.
Like her arch nemesis she doesn’t seem to regret the damage wrestling may have done to her body, but she also seems far more abandoned by her past life.
So, when Little Egypt organises a reunion at the encouragement of the film’s producers, Mountain Fiji is something of the guest of honour and the reaction of both her and the other ladies as she enters and they all perform the ‘rap’ that introduced them on the original show is genuinely moving.
While generally somewhat rushed GLOW: The Story of the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling is still interesting enough and as insight into women’s wrestling as WWE looks to distance itself from its seedier version of GLOW with the ‘Women’s Revolution’ and this summer’s Mae Young Classic tournament has a newly added dimension the producers couldn’t have known about when it was released back in 2012.