It’s clear WWE creative is in a woeful state when Raw and SmackDown start cannibalizing their own product. Unable to generate interest through carefully considered narratives with logical emotional beats, WWE smashes the cheat code button and has Pat McAfee and CM Punk start talking about “the forgotten wrestling fan”, how much WWE sucks today, and lowering WrestleMania ticket prices. This admission sparks discussion (mostly for, only some against) in the pro-wrestling community, but that seems to be all it does. Did WWE suddenly move tickets because McAfee said Randy Orton would “save the fucking show”? Is anyone more emotionally invested in CM Punk and Roman Reigns’ tepid feud thanks to Punk’s ineffectual call to lower ticket prices?
Doesn’t it feel a tad odd to admit your product is subpar and then expect it to magically not be? No other art or entertainment entity does this with the frequency and misguided earnestness of WWE. It’s as though the people running the company really believe that if they admit their show has been bad for twenty-five years it will suddenly be less bad. That’s like going to McDonald’s, ordering a number one, having the clerk say, “By the way, this tastes terrible”, you eating that Big Mac, nodding in agreement that it’s terrible, but then becoming happy because at least McDonald’s acknowledged how awful it was.
What’s happened to telling good, straightforward wrestling stories?
I can’t help but feel WWE gets too smart for its own good when it pulls this emergency lever. I’m reminded of Seth Rollins openly criticizing Raw’s ratings several years ago and then Stephanie McMahon blaming it on the general manager at the time, Baron Corbin. I believe it would be useful for WWE to know that the fan’s experience of such content is not one of enjoyment. I don’t remember thinking, “Yeah! Baron Corbin sucks! He’s the reason I hate this!” I just remember thinking, “Poor Baron Corbin”. And I wasn’t even a fan of his.
These odd little admissions of guilt are nothing more than superficial, temporary “fixes” to much larger systemic issues with the company’s creative apparatus. There is rot, deep in the core of WWE’s creative system, and the only way to improve Raw, SmackDown, and WrestleMania would be to aggressively (and enthusiastically) cut out the rot. WWE is the kind of company that loves the word “streamline”. Take everything I suggest from here on out as a sincere effort to streamline WWE storytelling. What exactly does that mean?
First and foremost, decide on a conceit. WWE, at present, does not have a conceit. What exactly does that mean?
That means WWE does not know what WWE actually is.
Is it a sport? Is it a sports entertainment? Is it putting smiles on faces? Is it putting asses in seats? Is it taking over the world? Is it a variety show? Is it art? Is it all of those things plus a few other rotting appendages sewn onto its reanimated carcass? Yes. And no. And then…maybe…also…yes again. In attempting to be so many things for so many people WWE fails to do one thing very well.
Starting from a fundamental narrative foundation is the key to opening bigger, more innovative creative doors in the future. I propose that WWE, in kayfabe, decide that it is a sports league, an institution where the best professional wrestlers come to compete for championship gold, fame, and fortune. This centers WWE’s narrative universe around a simple, consumable, and relatable human concept. From this conceit all else would spring forth, informing the style of presentation, the structure of narratives, and the creation of characters. One of the primary reasons the Attitude Era was so beloved was because it had a strong conceit. The World Wrestling Federation was…a federation…where wrestlers came to do battle for two hours every week and Mr. McMahon, in all his villainy, tried to position them in a manner that would make him the most money and retain him the most amount of power.
Embracing the sports league narrative conceit would also work in WWE’s kayfabe-breaking docuseries. Even when it admits professional wrestling is a work, it could still be the place where the absolute best professional wrestlers come to compete. In WWE’s fictional universe today, what is the WWE? Why is it the place so many wrestlers want to be? Give answers to those questions and allow those answers to inform narrative. As is, WWE, especially to the shrewd wrestling fan, doesn’t appear to be an ideal place to work. We know that wrestlers have less creative freedom there and that they are punished if they rub anyone the wrong way or happen to “get over” (become popular) “organically”. What if, instead of a beauty contest founded on backstage politicking, WWE was a sports organization where only the best came to play? Is that not an appealing concept? Making this their ethos would free up a lot of creative entanglements and allow WWE to reorient focus on what the company can produce very well.
What’s something WWE can do very well starting tomorrow?
Wrestling matches.
Yes, you might think it’s a tad obvious to suggest wrestling matches be a significant fix to a wrestling show’s problems, but I promise you this pivot in perspective can have far reaching creative consequences. As is, WWE doesn’t seem to value professional wrestling matches as a viable creative engine. They are secondary to a lot of fluff - twenty minute promos, backstage segments, and matches without definitive conclusions.
Please do not mistake my advocacy for wrestling matches being the primary narrative engine for a wrestling show as, “we need twenty-minute, work-rate, five-star classics every week”. Good matches can happen in three minutes. What I’m arguing for is a wrestling show where what happens before, during, and after a match informs the trajectory of characters, colors in the canvas of their story, and propels them into ongoing conflicts with other wrestlers.
Consider the glory days of NXT, 2014-2016, also under Levesque's guidance. The structures and stories were simple and action-based. Wrestlers went out, they wrestled, and what happened in the matches had a profound impact on their lives. If they lost, we felt their pain. If they won, we felt their joy. Matches centered around issues like jealousy, respect, hatred, love, and fear. Getting back to these basic human qualities and seeing what happens when we set loose gravity-defying human bodies is the stuff of Shakespeare. Does El Grande Americano achieve anything? Why am I still watching that character every week? Is someone actively trying to punish me for watching WWE? Because that’s how it feels. Letting go of the behind the scenes politics and the frustration with “smart” wrestling fans and focusing back on the simple joy of wrestling matches would go a long way in righting some of the aforementioned institutional wrongs.
Perhaps even more important than quality professional wrestling matches is quality promos. This is how many characters are able to articulate their worldviews and establish an emotional connection with the audience. Scripts are no substitute for the ingenuity of a wrestler who has thousands of reps on the microphone. Rather than training its wrestlers to memorize dialogue, why not train them to cut bullet point promos? I’m not arguing these wrestlers should be the next CM Punk or Paul Heyman. We don’t even need that. We need wrestlers who speak from the heart in straightforward, easily digestible soundbites. What has happened to this style of promo? Where has it gone and why is WWE, with its myriad resources, not training its superstars to be good at it? I contend that a return of short, behind-the-scenes, bullet-point promos will be a boon to the business. Consider all the promos that resulted in soul-catching catchphrases over the years, catchphrases turned into million-dollar tee-shirts. Such phraseology simply doesn’t work when it’s grown in a lab. It has to be spoken through strings of saliva, sweat, and blood. That’s a good promo.
Let’s end with something simple: the fact that Raw and SmackDown are a very non-user-friendly three hours long. In the fourteen years I’ve been analyzing wrestling never once have I ever heard a human being say, “I like the fact that Raw is three hours”. Even Paul Levesque in his 2015 interview with Steve Austin on the WWE Network admitted it was difficult to produce that third hour. No one likes it. Don’t worry, I’m not so naive as to argue the company should simply do away with that third hour. I understand doing so would leave a lot of advertising revenue on the table. But it remains a joyless slog, especially for what is supposed to be the Disney version of professional wrestling. WWE wants to appeal to a casual, general audience. To do so it would have to produce a casual, generally enjoyable product. So what do I suggest?
Make that third hour a pre-show or a post-show. WWE could even break the hour in half so there’s a half-hour pre-show and a half-hour post-show. There’d be analysis and interviews on these shows, and they would help build and process everything that happens in-between. This would make Raw and SmackDown more digestible. This would also tap the talents of WWE’s “broadcast team”, giving them moments to really shine.
But this is just one suggestion that didn’t take much brain power to generate. The main point I’m trying to make is that the impetus for this idea is to make these shows easier to consume, friendlier, and more inviting to the would-be viewer. Perhaps there’s some reason beyond my grasp that a pre-show wouldn’t work. Okay. Spotlight a specific division in the first hour. Make the first hour a series of exciting vignettes. Anything other than twenty-minute promos and impromptu main events booked on-screen.
I’ll leave the rest up to WWE. As I write this closing paragraph I’m filled with a sense of disillusionment because I’m certain they will not change. I don’t think WWE has the stomach for it. I don’t think they want to take a hard look in the mirror and figure out the real reasons ticket sales and ratings are down. It would require a lot of sustained, internal effort to fix WWE and make its products genuinely enjoyable again. I fear it has too much momentum (and money) to be reflective. And that’s a sad thing for professional wrestling, which, as we know, is a beautiful art always ready to be reinvented.
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