I recently devoted this column to two heels who make RAW appointment viewing: Dominik Mysterio and Drew McIntyre.
Despite their different approaches to breaking bad, I am moved by their performances. Neither man is a ‘cool heel’ — a bad boy who curries favor with audiences. Both are unrepentant heels who lie and cheat and sneak around. They commit heinous and brutal acts of violence to get their way and do worse when thwarted by heroes. Even better, they stay in character outside the ring. Dominik recently attended a UFC event with his father, Rey. The feuding family members sat on opposite sides of the arena, as old school as one gets (“Dirty” Dom has been spotted making nice with fans at autograph sessions, but this is consistent with his sycophancy).
Mysterio and McIntyre are committed villains. More important, they’re psychologically complex, interesting characters. It helps that to date they’ve been able to play off the blank canvas of bland heroes like Dominik’s dad and an oddly happy-go-lucky returning CM Punk. As someone who revels in the primary process part of pro wrestling, these are the kinds of bad guys I like. I cheer for them but hope others still hate them. Villains lose their magic when they become popular.
You may have noticed that I didn’t include current heel World Champion Gunther in my appreciation.
Gunther has spent most of his NXT/WWE run as a dominant, long-reigning champion. I think Gunther is a fine champion and a very capable wrestler, but as a heel he leaves me flat.
No less an authority than the Undertaker would agree. On his Six Feet Under podcast ‘Taker opined:
I like him (GUNTHER). I think he’s kind of a throwback to a different era. As painful as those chops look… you think he’s beating you down and which he is without doing a bunch of aerial attacks.
It’s nice to see somebody grind somebody down and yeah, I think he’s gonna have to be careful… he needs to add a little more, I think, chicken sh*t to his repertoire or he’s gonna become a babyface much sooner than he expects. That’s just the way it is now.
I think this criticism is dead on, even if I might swap out the cowardice for more sociopathy to fix Gunther’s character.
Gunther is heir to a dubious tradition of foreign heels, especially those who are packaged as representing America’s historical enemies. WWE stops short of branding Gunther (and his associate Ludwig Kaiser) as outright Nazis, but the fascist symbolism which has dogged his character since his debut is uncomfortable. Gunther is fixated on the ‘sacredness’ or ‘purity’ of his brand of wrestling. His gear betrays a taste for high-cut patent leather footwear and overcoats and a hairstyle that was derided as a ‘Hitler Youth’ undercut when it gained prominence in the mid-2010s. It doesn’t help that the man’s ring name was meant to change from ‘WALTER’ to ‘Gunther Stark’. WWE dropped the last name when turned out that there was an historical Gunther Stark — a Nazi U-Boat commander. Gunther has faced repeated criticisms regarding his portrayal, and that of his Imperium stable. In March, 2023 he had to lobby to have his WWE 2k23 video game ranking changed. He had been given an “88” strength rating. Whether this was an unfunny rib or a coincidence, “88” is commonly used as a white supremacist dog whistle for “heil Hitler.”
To a point, I blame Paul ‘Triple H’ Levesque, who has generally done a great job of creatively resuscitating WWE programming after the twilight of Vince McMahon.
A brief digression, with loads of speculation and few facts. If anyone reading this knows better, please advise.
I think Levesque sees himself in Gunther, the way Vince was drawn to “wealthy jerk” characters like the “Million Dollar Man” Ted DiBiase or JBL. I sincerely hope this isn’t the case, but Gunther and Ludwig Kaiser’s push feel problematic — especially given the cheap heat I described above. Levesque is fond of the band Motörhead, whose late lead singer Ian “Lemmy” Kilmister enthusiastically collected Nazi memorabilia (though he claims he just enjoyed the aesthetics) and incorporated their imagery into the band’s image, notably the Iron Cross which was a key Nazi military symbol. In the United States, the Iron Cross was adopted by outlaw motorcycle clubs in the 1960s, as a symbol of rebellion and for shock value. From biker subculture it spread to rock and heavy metal subcultures, becoming part of heavy metal fashion.
Some argue that the Iron Cross transcended its Nazi background to become a generic symbol for toughness (they seem to forget that the ‘tough guys’ they’re imitating were Nazis). Some would also argue that the Confederate Flag has lost its association with slavery and stands for generic pride in one’s Southern US roots.
I call BS on both.
If Mr. Levesque reads this, I would love to know how he came to the symbol and why he has made it a fixture of his in-ring persona (it features prominently on Triple H’s ring gear, merchandise and TitanTron videos). Disturbed frontman Dave Draiman has offered his own view of those who collect Nazi gear or appropriate the imagery (see LEMMY On His Nazi Collection: ‘I Only Collect The Stuff, I Didn’t Collect The Ideas’ from BLABBERMOUTH.NET).
Back to wrestling.
Distasteful historical references aside, I just don’t think Gunther in his present incarnation is a great — or even good — heel. Gunther’s matches and feuds follow similar trajectories to Triple H’s post-Attitude Era period where Levesque booked himself as champion and the best wrestler in the world. As good as Triple H was (and he was), fans resented what they saw as incredibly selfish booking. Gunther doesn’t hold the pen in today’s WWE but his run gives me similar vibes.
Gunther’s brand of badness rests on a throwback persona. He disdains the entertainment associated with modern pro wrestling, which means he pretty much disdains wrestling in general. OK, Boomer. He works a plodding, smashmouth style with an emphasis on chops that bloody his opponents’ chests. It’s catnip for Strong-Style enthusiasts, but at odds with the idea that the best pro wrestlers make their moves look real without hurting their opponents.
Gunther is bad for the sake of being bad, which is boring. His matches are straightforward and while he occasionally cheats to win, he is a strong enough competitor that most of the time he ekes out victories against ultimately overmatched opponents. He emerges from matches and feuds with his opponents’ respect. At the recent Bash in Berlin he held to this pattern, beating Randy Orton clean after an earlier disputed finish in the King of the Ring tournament. Orton was quick to shake Gunther’s hand in a show of respect. Barf. As a fan I don’t want to respect the bad guy, I want to jump on my seat at the arena and call for his blood.
The best villains are appealing in part because, freed from social mores they seem like they’re having a great time. Even the most calculating baddies act in service of their basest interests regardless of social or legal norms. It’s disturbing but freeing. Hannibal Lecter made a dude eat his own brain. Hans Landa piled his strudel with an unhealthy amount of whipped cream. Dracula impaled people for kicks. However well-executed Gunther’s matches may be, and notwithstanding his newfound penchant for making programs personal with schoolyard insults, Gunther generates the wrong kind of heat. I don’t want to see him lose his title; I’m just happier when he’s not on TV at all.
And yet, I don’t think all hope is lost for Gunther.
It’s worth looking to the past for inspiration for the future. Pro wrestling recently lost a man who I consider an all-time great heel: Sid “Vicious/Justice/Sycho” Eudy.
I’ve sprinkled references to Sid throughout my columns. To me, he was everything a heel should be: a Goliath to be slain by the heroic David of the moment. Sid was in many ways the opposite of Gunther. Gunther comes across as polished and erudite. He positions himself as a wrestler’s wrestler and has become known for extended “bangers” against a variety of opponents.
Sid had no patience for that. He traded on his giant frame and enhanced physique, and a weird charisma that would be derided as a pastiche of mental illness today. But man, it worked. Sid came across as hyper-violent and out of control. His catchphrase “I am the man, the master and the ruler of the world” was pure megalomania. He was an unreconstructed villain — nothing cool about him. Critics note Sid’s limited move set. I think this is unfair. Wrestling has always emphasized “less is more” — slowing things down and maximizing the impact of fewer moves. As a blond near-giant, Sid was heir to the style employed by Hulk Hogan and Lex Luger, as taught to them by Hiro Matsuda. Pushing Sid into trading wrestling holds made less sense than squashing people and obliterating them with power moves, saving Sid for the next quick performance. Sid’s in-ring career effectively ended when a member of WCW’s braintrust demanded he unleash a move off the top rope, resulting in a gruesome broken leg.
At a time when many wrestlers used cartoonish taunts and gimmicks and brought animals to the ring, Sid’s gimmick was just beating people up. After powerbombing his opponents into oblivion, ‘medical personnel’ would attempt to remove them from the ring via stretcher. Sid would wait, then resume his attack against their prone bodies, knocking them off the stretcher on his way to the pay window. Despite wrestling at a time when rival promotions reinvented wrestlers for intellectual property reasons, Sid just changed his last name as needed and went about the business of being Sid. Why mess with perfection?
Sid was an Intelligent Monster heel and a graduate of the Bruiser Brody School of Business. Like Brody, Sid was open about wrestling being a job. His motivation was financial: make as much money as possible and get out. His mercenary attitude offended promoters like Vince McMahon, who plied talent with ‘mark’ goals like titles. Sid just went for what he saw as the best deal at the time; and once a contract no longer suited him, he felt free to walk. Sid’s most visible runs with WWE and WCW were short — partly because of his unwillingness to compromise. As frustrating as this may have been for promoters and fans like myself, he left us all wanting more — and that’s the best thing I can say about any performer.
WWE executive Bruce Prichard described his company’s relationship with Sid. WWE grew to acknowledge Sid’s disinterest apart from his monetary gain, as well as his history with injuries and competing priorities that limited long-term booking options.
WWE hired Sid more than once. After his first run ended acrimoniously, WWE learned to book him into brief programs on an abbreviated touring schedule, understanding that he might no-show and another talent would have to carry his load. Sid got a pair of WWE championship runs even though he and the WWE had mutual exit strategies in place. He sold tickets and when he was done, he was done. WWE took advantage of these runs to help make newer bigger stars.
By making himself scarce, Sid generated demand for his services — so much so that WCW readily hired Sid back after he stabbed fellow wrestler Arn Anderson with a pair of scissors, and later put their own World Championship around Sid’s waist. Twice.
I’m not saying that Gunther can become Sid, but he should be more vicious. As noted above, The Undertaker thinks he needs a more traditional heel presentation to make fans care. I agree. WWE has heels in place with clear motivations and zero empathy and plenty of arrogance. As champion and a presumptive main event performer, Gunther needs to generate the most heat of anyone.
He may be bad, but he needs to break worse.
TOP PHOTO: WWE World champion Gunther in Germany in August 2024. WWE photo
RELATED LINK
