Perhaps the best quote from Netflix’s Mr. McMahon documentary came from The Ringer’s David Shoemaker, who said: “Nothing that any wrestler—that anybody involved in wrestling—tells you, should be regarded as fact.”
There’s truly no better way to set the stage for a six-hour professional wrestling documentary.
Directed by Tiger King’s Chris Smith and executive produced by Bill Simmons, Mr. McMahon is far from a bad watch. However, if you’re a wrestling fan sitting down hoping to learn new, intimate details about Vince McMahon, the human being, you’re in for a disappointment. Almost every topic the documentary touches has already been covered better and more in-depth in other documentaries and podcasts.
The biggest surprise with the release of Mr. McMahon is the fact that Netflix decided to air it at all. Netflix and WWE are now business partners, with WWE’s flagship show, Monday Night Raw, moving to the streaming service in January 2025. With that in mind, airing a six-part documentary covering every low point WWE has ever had a few months before the company moves to your streaming service is an interesting choice, to say the least.
McMahon, who is no longer involved with WWE, was not a fan of the documentary. The former CEO released a statement prior to its release calling the project “deceptive.” McMahon claims that the producers used “typical editing tricks” with “out of context footage and dated soundbites” in an attempt to “distort the viewers’ perception.” He also stated that he hoped fans would “keep an open mind and remember that there are two sides to every story.”
The series is very well produced, and they do a fair job of covering Vince McMahon’s early days in the wrestling business. From there, it’s a tour of every major controversy the company has managed to survive: from the n and the 1994 steroid trial to Owen Hart’s tragic death on pay-per-view in 1999 and Chris Benoit’s double murder-suicide in 2007. Unfortunately, the documentary speeds through them all, giving each topic only a few minutes of attention before moving on to the next subject.
Sadly, there isn’t a lot of new “behind-the-scenes” footage to be found. It’s well known that WWE has had cameras rolling backstage for decades now—there’s no doubt some incredible footage from behind the curtain is waiting to be unearthed. However, you’re not going to discover it in Mr. McMahon.
“WWE has had cameras rolling backstage for decades now—there’s no doubt some incredible footage from behind the curtain is waiting to be unearthed.”
While the subject matter is often heavy due to the circumstances surrounding both Vince McMahon and WWE, there are a few laughs to be had. Tony Atlas—in a sleeveless dress shirt and tie—has multiple humorous moments woven through all six episodes. Bob Costas dropping an F-bomb is a shocking moment sure to put a smile on the faces of sports fans.
All that said, the highlight of the entire documentary was undoubtedly the segments covering Vince’s relationship with his son, Shane, who had a long on-and-off relationship with WWE both as an executive and as an on-screen performer. Maybe that section stands out because the topic hasn’t been discussed as much in the past. Neither Shane nor Vince have really elaborated on the details of their relationship before, and interviews with both are few and far between. As such, the father-son dynamic between the McMahon men was one of the only “fresh” things fans will enjoy from this documentary. It was both fascinating and heartbreaking to see a new, deeper side of that dynamic.
One of the more cringeworthy moments comes with the discussion of CTE. At one point, Vince states that he doesn’t believe The Undertaker got a concussion in his famous streak-breaking WrestleMania 30 match against Brock Lesnar. Stone Cold Steve Austin takes it a step further, denying the existence of CTE altogether. Thankfully, the documentary highlights the fact WWE as a company now takes the issue very seriously and is doing everything it can to better protect its talent from head injuries.
At the end of the day, Mr. McMahon has a serious identity crisis. It hovers between a “history of the WWE” highlight tape and an exposé of the scandals surrounding Vince McMahon, never fully landing on either. The lack of direction was hard to ignore, and ultimately led to a rushed-feeling and surface-level watch.
The post Netflix’s ‘Mr. McMahon’ Documentary: A Stale Retelling of a Well-Known Story appeared first on VICE.
The post Netflix’s ‘Mr. McMahon’ Documentary: A Stale Retelling of a Well-Known Story appeared first on VICE.
