OTTAWA CITIZEN

By Tony Atherton

A Canadian film crew spent

a year snooping behind the scenes at the WWF, and recorded a tale as

bizarre as Kafka and as tragic as Shakespeare. The riveting two-hour

film, Hitman Hart, Wrestling With Shadows records the manipulation,

intrigue and betrayal leading up to what The Wrestling Observer

Newsletter calls "the single most famous finish of a pro-wrestling match

in the modern era." It premieres on TVO Wednesday at 10 p.m.

Even going into the project, film-maker Paul Jay (Never-Endum

Referendum) had a sense that wrestling was more like classical drama

than modern sport.

"Wrestling has always been the grand spectacle/morality play," Jay said

in a recent interview. "One guy plays Greed, another plays Envy,

somebody plays Coward, and somebody else plays Hero. It touches

these primal chords in people, I think that's the attraction of it."

It was a notion that came to him through French philosopher Roland

Barthes who in the 1950s called wrestling "a spectacle of excess" akin to

Greek drama and bull-fights. Wrestling's virtue was its clarity, Barthes

said. "A light without shadow generates an emotion without reserve."

What struck Jay was that the world of professional wrestling in the

1990s was changing, becoming more ambiguous. The good guys and

bad guys had become interchangeable, and fan favourites were the

biggest heels. Had society become too sophisticated to ndulge in simple

primal release?

Jay saw Hart as a larger-than-life character through which he could

examine issues of substance, but still maintain a mass audience. Hart was

a long-time wrestling good guy, the favoured son a Calgary wrestling

dynasty, the long-time champion of the WWF, and -- because of his

popularity with wrestling-obsessed kids in Europe, Africa and India --

arguably the most famous Canadian in the world.

Jay meant to make a film about the business and psychology of wrestling

and wrestlers, and about the peculiar micro-culture that had formed

Hart. The son of legendary wrestler and promoter Stu Hart, a tough man

with a dark streak (as the film makes chillingly clear), Brett remembers

living in paralysing fear of his father, and yet wanting to emulate him. He

wasn't alone. Bret had seven brothers who all became wrestlers, and

four sisters who married wrestlers.

All of what Jay originally had in mind is still part of Hitman Hart,

Wrestling With Shadows, but on Nov. 9, 1997, as the film crew was in

the final stage of its year-long quest, the outcome of a single match

changed what had been thought-provoking documentary into an epic

drama.

The way in which Bret Hart was betrayed by WWF owner Vince

McMahon is well-known in wrestling circles. McMahon conspired with

his ringside officials to stray from a carefully pre-planned script for a

match in Montreal between Hart and his arch-rival Shawn Michaels.

Hart was soon to leave the WWF, at McMahon's urging, to join the

WCW, and McMahon, naturally, wanted him to lose the WWF title

before his departure. Hart had agreed to lose the title in a match in the

U.S.; he didn't want to drop the belt in Canada. It was a point of pride.

Just before the match, McMahon acquiesced (we hear him doing so in

the documentary on tape from a concealed recorder), but during the

match ordered a quick count, and declared Michaels the new champion

while Hart was still reaching for the next move in the planned sequence.

The wrestling world erupted in pandemonium.

It is the buildup to this moment over the the course of a year that makes

it so dramatic. Earlier in the film, Hart agonizes over a lucrative offer

from the WCW, and agrees to continue working for a conciliatory

McMahon for much less -- and the promise of an extended role in the

WWF front office after his retirement from the ring. Hart, who had only

ever worked for two promoters, his father and McMahon, is compelled

by loyalty to stay.

But within months, the machiavellian McMahon wants out of his contract

with Hart, saying he can't afford it, and suggests Hart re-open

negotiations with the WCW. The stage is set for the final act, which

unfolds obligingly before the camera backstage in the ring.

"It was like the gods of documentary film-making said, 'Wait a second

you don't have an ending for your film yet' -- which we didn't -- and this

real battle between Vince and Brett started breaking out," says Jay.

"And it becomes a battle between a guy who believes in heroes, and a

guy who believes in the bottom line."

Hart's candid and introspective commentary, collected in dozens of

interviews, serves as a compelling narration for the film. He comes

across as an intelligent, well-spoken man who believed too much that

good would prevail and loyalty would be rewarded. He has since

changed, he said in an interview this week.

"I had given Vince McMahon so much ... and all of a sudden I found

myself being dragged though the mud with him. I lost a little pride in the

business from that stand point."

"I always used to put the wrestling business first," says Hart. "It comes

fourth now. My health comes first, and my family ... then my money,

and, oh yeah, then the wrestling."

He's pleased with the response the film is getting from other wrestlers.

Rick Flair watched and thought it was terrific, says Hart. Rowdy Roddy

Piper watched it and cried. Hulk Hogan watched it, and watched it

again. Then he brought in his family and made them watch it.

Hart plays a bad guy in the WCW these days, "as bad as they come," he

says. It's what the fans want these days, plus it's therapeutic, he says.

"You hold in all this stress and tension, and then for 20 minutes of the

day you get paid to be the most unbelievable asshole you could be, and

you let it all out."

But, he adds, "I don't know if it's the Hitman that I want people to

remember. The Hitman I still take the most pride in, nobody wants him

right now. I'm not going to force feed anyone on heroism or preach

morals."

As much as he misses the old Hitman, he also misses the old WWF, the

way it was before the kids that were weaned on the comic-book

wrestling of the 1980s grew up and wanted more -- more shock, more

sex, more bad guys. These days, wrestling is geared to

testosterone-driven 16-to-25-year old males, he says.

"I'll always look back with more fondness on the times I wrestled where

you had such a mixed group of people watching. I miss the kids, and I

miss the older people. I miss old grandma's hitting people with purses."