Post by stubby on Sept 28, 2008 23:52:11 GMT -5
Mtl wrestlers say they have bad rap but admit one event a little extreme
Jessica Murphy, THE CANADIAN PRESS
9 hours, 37 minutes ago
PrintMONTREAL - Montreal’s International Wrestling Syndicate, a federation that puts on ultra-violent hard-core wrestling performances, says their sport gets a bad rap.
“You’re right that it’s low-brow. But Shakespeare was low-brow,” Mike Ryan, a writer for the syndicate, said in an interview.
“You’re telling stories that have to do with violence. But that doesn’t mean there’s no craft to it.”
Six-foot-tall Alexandra Lodwick - a.k.a. Vanessa Kraven - has been a wrestling for over four years.
One of the few female wrestlers on the IWS roster, she’s a pretty woman with delicate features and an eyebrow ring who says people are too quick to judge the sport that takes dedication and skill to master.
“It’s kind of a dance,” she said.
“There’s an art to it.”
Ryan likens wrestling to a performance piece where people get hurt.
“It’s still gruesome but at least there’s a point to it,” he said.
A good wrestling show combines elements of drama, comedy and narrative with violence, outrageous characters and fan-favourite finishing moves like Lodwick’s Powerbomb.
“There’s a lot of sophisticated stuff going on and people don’t realize it,” said Ryan.
In fact, he wove the social commentary of Shakespeare’s Richard the Third into the 2004 narrative for the IWS.
“The bad guys can’t get away with it forever, the underdog can win, there’s a price for being loyal,” said Ryan.
“That’s social commentary.”
The IWS was founded in Montreal in 1998 by Eddy Dorozowsky, a.k.a. Sexxxy Eddy, and Manny Elefthriou, a.k.a. PCP Crazy F’N Manny.
Their first show at a Montreal college led to live wrestling being permanently banned on campus but the two were simply building on Quebec’s wrestling history.
Canadian pro-wrestling pioneer Walter (Killer) Kowalski got his moniker in Montreal when he injured Yukon Eric in a match in 1954. Andre the Giant wrestled in the city as did Bob (Legs) Langevin, who later became a bodyguard for Elizabeth Taylor and former prime ministers MacKenzie King and Louis St-Laurent.
About 15 wrestling federations now operate in the province but Elefthriou said only about three have talented wrestlers and hold major events.
Some IWS wrestlers, like Lodwick, have become minor celebrities and perform throughout North America, Europe and Japan.
“Hard-core wrestling is several things but in basic terms, it’s wrestling without any rules,” said Elefthriou.
“At the IWS, we call it more hard-core entertainment. We tell a story, we make it spectacular. We want the crowd to go crazy.”
This year’s major event was a violent grudge match among six popular wrestlers involved in an ongoing feud.
“Wrestling is essentially a soap opera for men,” admitted wrestler Neil Felzenstein, a.k.a. Beef Wellington.
“You need the good guys for the people to cheer and you need the bad guys to piss people off. Otherwise you’re just watching two guys roll around or hit each other with chairs.”
The narrative arc culminated in the Fans Bring the Weapons match, which even organizers admit can get a little dangerous.
“It’s extreme and incredibly violent,” said Ryan.
“It gets pretty grisly.”
Almost 900 fans attended the Saturday night event held in a downtown Montreal concert hall.
“It’s the biggest even of the year, period,” said Steven Wilson, IWS promotions manager.
Fans brought rackets, mitts with thumb tacks, clubs made with plastic forks and the all-time favourite weapon: fluorescent light tubes.
“They’re very creative,” noted Wilson.
The first three rows of fans were given safety goggles and surgical masks to protect against flying glass. Staff wore surgical gloves to protect themselves from the blood.
“A lot of people say it’s needless violence, just people breaking glass over each other, but in the end, it really is a show,” said Elefthriou.
“An extreme show and people love it.”
After a two-hour build up of increasingly violent matches and with announcer Nick Paterson taunting them: “My world is about culture and class. Yours is about poutine and crass,” the crowd was ready for blood.
The wrestlers hit the ring with fire, jumps from the second-storey balcony and stunts that involved smashing dozens of fluorescent light tubes over each other until the ring and floor were coated with glass.
They stumbled out of the ring at midnight bleeding and embedded with glass.
But Ryan said that was all part of the show.
“It’s cuts on the forehead that bleed a lot with no real danger,” said Ryan.
“But you sell it like you’re dying”.
Jessica Murphy, THE CANADIAN PRESS
9 hours, 37 minutes ago
PrintMONTREAL - Montreal’s International Wrestling Syndicate, a federation that puts on ultra-violent hard-core wrestling performances, says their sport gets a bad rap.
“You’re right that it’s low-brow. But Shakespeare was low-brow,” Mike Ryan, a writer for the syndicate, said in an interview.
“You’re telling stories that have to do with violence. But that doesn’t mean there’s no craft to it.”
Six-foot-tall Alexandra Lodwick - a.k.a. Vanessa Kraven - has been a wrestling for over four years.
One of the few female wrestlers on the IWS roster, she’s a pretty woman with delicate features and an eyebrow ring who says people are too quick to judge the sport that takes dedication and skill to master.
“It’s kind of a dance,” she said.
“There’s an art to it.”
Ryan likens wrestling to a performance piece where people get hurt.
“It’s still gruesome but at least there’s a point to it,” he said.
A good wrestling show combines elements of drama, comedy and narrative with violence, outrageous characters and fan-favourite finishing moves like Lodwick’s Powerbomb.
“There’s a lot of sophisticated stuff going on and people don’t realize it,” said Ryan.
In fact, he wove the social commentary of Shakespeare’s Richard the Third into the 2004 narrative for the IWS.
“The bad guys can’t get away with it forever, the underdog can win, there’s a price for being loyal,” said Ryan.
“That’s social commentary.”
The IWS was founded in Montreal in 1998 by Eddy Dorozowsky, a.k.a. Sexxxy Eddy, and Manny Elefthriou, a.k.a. PCP Crazy F’N Manny.
Their first show at a Montreal college led to live wrestling being permanently banned on campus but the two were simply building on Quebec’s wrestling history.
Canadian pro-wrestling pioneer Walter (Killer) Kowalski got his moniker in Montreal when he injured Yukon Eric in a match in 1954. Andre the Giant wrestled in the city as did Bob (Legs) Langevin, who later became a bodyguard for Elizabeth Taylor and former prime ministers MacKenzie King and Louis St-Laurent.
About 15 wrestling federations now operate in the province but Elefthriou said only about three have talented wrestlers and hold major events.
Some IWS wrestlers, like Lodwick, have become minor celebrities and perform throughout North America, Europe and Japan.
“Hard-core wrestling is several things but in basic terms, it’s wrestling without any rules,” said Elefthriou.
“At the IWS, we call it more hard-core entertainment. We tell a story, we make it spectacular. We want the crowd to go crazy.”
This year’s major event was a violent grudge match among six popular wrestlers involved in an ongoing feud.
“Wrestling is essentially a soap opera for men,” admitted wrestler Neil Felzenstein, a.k.a. Beef Wellington.
“You need the good guys for the people to cheer and you need the bad guys to piss people off. Otherwise you’re just watching two guys roll around or hit each other with chairs.”
The narrative arc culminated in the Fans Bring the Weapons match, which even organizers admit can get a little dangerous.
“It’s extreme and incredibly violent,” said Ryan.
“It gets pretty grisly.”
Almost 900 fans attended the Saturday night event held in a downtown Montreal concert hall.
“It’s the biggest even of the year, period,” said Steven Wilson, IWS promotions manager.
Fans brought rackets, mitts with thumb tacks, clubs made with plastic forks and the all-time favourite weapon: fluorescent light tubes.
“They’re very creative,” noted Wilson.
The first three rows of fans were given safety goggles and surgical masks to protect against flying glass. Staff wore surgical gloves to protect themselves from the blood.
“A lot of people say it’s needless violence, just people breaking glass over each other, but in the end, it really is a show,” said Elefthriou.
“An extreme show and people love it.”
After a two-hour build up of increasingly violent matches and with announcer Nick Paterson taunting them: “My world is about culture and class. Yours is about poutine and crass,” the crowd was ready for blood.
The wrestlers hit the ring with fire, jumps from the second-storey balcony and stunts that involved smashing dozens of fluorescent light tubes over each other until the ring and floor were coated with glass.
They stumbled out of the ring at midnight bleeding and embedded with glass.
But Ryan said that was all part of the show.
“It’s cuts on the forehead that bleed a lot with no real danger,” said Ryan.
“But you sell it like you’re dying”.
