Tag: Kevin Von Erich

Don’t Fear the Reaper

Ah, the Von Erich curse.

I’ve always been interested in wrestling. I wanted to go out for the wrestling team in high school, but enough people were already bullying me and calling me a fag, and as painful as those words were, they were made worse by the knowledge they were true–and absolutely godawful knowing I wasn’t entirely sure what it meant….but I knew by their faces and the tone of voice it was spoken in that it wasn’t a good thing. The last thing in the world I wanted was to wear one of those skintight singlets and get aroused for the world to see (although I learned, much later, that it was so common no one ever said anything about it; but even now I am not certain I would have been given that same grace as a sexual suspect); that would be the end of the world as I knew it…so going out for the team wasn’t an option for me, and I kind of regret that fear kept me from something I’d enjoy.

But as I was figuring out my sexuality and trying to figure out what all was entailed by being an object of scorn and disgust by everyone, I started being drawn to professional wrestling. The heyday of pro wrestling was long in the past in the late 1960’s and 1970s, and the WWE boom was yet to make it mainstream once again. But the body contact and domination/submission aspects were the closest thing I could actually find on television that was sort of like a male/male sexual experience–which made my liking for pro wrestling even more suspect and something I couldn’t really talk about with anyone because of course he likes pro wrestling, the fag.

So, I was closeted in that way, too.

But one day when I was a teenager I was in a store–a Walgreens or something–and I saw a professional wrestling magazine with a cover story on Kevin Von Erich, and he was like nothing I’d ever seen before–a tall, long, lean and muscular body in white trunks and barefoot, and handsome in a rugged kind of way. I bought the magazine, and became a fan of the entire Von Erich family…and also was aware of how tragedy haunted the family. When I first heard about this movie, I had to see it…although I wasn’t sure how telling this story would have a beginning, a middle, and an end.

But…I did enjoy it. A lot.

It’s actually very well done, but it’s also kind of sad to watch almost from the very beginning. The movie also cut out one of the brothers, but seriously, another death in this grim film might have been too much for any viewer to handle or take.

The film is very well done, and the story is sad–one about toxic masculinity, distant and emotionally unavailable parents, and how the dream, the drive, of being at the top of the wrestling game caused so much damage. Afraid to admit weakness, not really able to ask anyone else for help when struggling emotionally, the suicides make complete sense. The Von Erich brothers were so tightly bonded they didn’t have room for much else in their lives–friendship, love, etc.–other than the grind of training and wrestling and tightening the bond with each other. The cast is brilliant–great casting, but ultimately flawed in the physical side of things; the Von Erichs were taller than the actors playing them, and of course Kevin was never as jacked as Zac Efron; those kinds of bodies were extremely rare during those decades. Kerry was big and muscular and defined, but he’d also been an Olympic wannabe in discus and javelin.

There’s a particularly moving scene towards the end of the film where Kevin finally breaks down from how overwhelming all the tragedies have been and the toll on his soul and psyche, and his young sons come to comfort him…and he tells them how much he misses his brothers and misses being a brother; the boys tell him they’ll be his brothers, and he apologizes to them because “men aren’t supposed to cry.”

Maybe if the Von Erich brothers had been raised to not believe in toxic masculinity and the narrow definition of what a man is, and allowed themselves to be vulnerable and get help for their demons, the story may not have been as tragic.

Kevin’s sons now wrestle professionally, and Kevin himself doesn’t believe in a curse on the family–though he did for a number of years, but he’s made peace with the past and focuses on his family.

I really enjoyed the movie, but it’s depressing. Four out of five stars.

Three of the actual Von Erichs, with Kevin in the center

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

Sunday morning and it’s cold again this morning. My space heater is warming my legs nicely–it’s amazing how much heat that thing can put out–and I am going to try to get some things done this morning. My desk area is a mess and there’s a load of clothes in the dryer to fold, and another load of dishes in the sink to be washed and put in the dishwasher. I didn’t write yesterday; after braving the grocery store on the Saturday before Christmas I was pretty worn out and over-stimulated, so I spent the rest of the day relaxing and watching some documentaries on television about professional wrestling–there’s a terrific Vice series available on Hulu called The Dark Side of the Ring. I’ve been wanting to write a noir set in a small wrestling promotion in a fictional, highly corrupt Southern coastal city (which I call Bay City whenever I think about it); seeing the dark stories behind the public image was interesting. I watched the episodes about the Fabulous Moolah and the Von Erich family; I just read an old piece in Texas Monthly about them, and so this seemed timely. I loved the Von Erichs back in the day, and I always had a crush on sexy Kevin Von Erich–although I kind of liked them all, frankly. Kevin is the only surviving brother (of six), and they did talk to him on-camera for the documentary, and he was interviewed for the Texas Monthly piece. I cannot imagine what it would be like to lose all of your brothers–almost all of your children for the Von Erich parents–but Kevin’s two sons are now working in professional wrestling, carrying on the family name, and they are also carrying on the “hot as fuck” family tradition as well.

After that, I invested three hours in finally watching Avengers Endgame, which was entertaining enough. There were elements of Days of Future Past in it–no surprise, since they came from the same company–and it did have some terrific moments. Visually it was also stunning, but I always have problems with time travel because of the paradoxes (although I did laugh out loud when someone–I think it was Paul Rudd as Antman–said, “SO you’re saying Back to the Future is bullshit?”), and I also figured out, at the end of Infinity War, that they’d have to go back in time to erase what Thanos had done. This created a lot more questions in my head than were answered by the movie, but I can also see why it was such a huge success and why people loved it so much. It’s quite the star-studded spectacle, everyone is well cast, and visually it’s quite epic.

And then I went to bed–a lovely, relaxing day. I may not watch the Saints game–too stressful–but will definitely have it on in the living room while I do other things. Tonight there won’t be a new episode of Watchmen, which makes me sad (and yes, I still miss Game of Thrones) but there should be a new episode of Dublin Murders dropping tonight, and Paul has expressed an interest in watching Titans, so I’ll probably revisit the first season, primarily because I won’t remember enough of it to explain it to Paul is we just start on season two. I’m also trying to figure out how to watch the DIRECTV-only series of Stephen King’s Mr. Mercedes. There are becoming too many streaming services, and we’re getting to the point where it’s almost as much as the cable bill used to be. One thing I need to do is sit down and figure out what all I am paying for and what I actually don’t need, that I am paying for and can be cancelled.

Also, the first episode of Megan Abbott’s series based on her novel Dare Me is available, if I can figure out a way to stream it onto the television.

I also need to write today. I’ve successfully managed to avoid it for two days now, but today I kind of should do some. I don’t know why I always have to force myself to do things I enjoy, but that’s the paradox of my life. I’m also going to spend some time with Laura Benedict’s The Stranger Inside. I don’t know why I am taking so long to read this book, it’s fantastic and incredibly well done; it has more to do with me not being in the mood to read or something, rather than anything negative about the book.

I’m also trying to decide whether or not I want to do one–or several–of those my favorite things of the year posts. Obviously, I didn’t read or watch everything, so I can only write about what I’ve actually experienced; but I also worry that I won’t remember something. There were so many amazing new books this year that I read, and some amazing books from previous years I also read…it’s hard to remember a better year for books, or television–Chernobyl, Unbelievable, Fosse/Verdon–and that’s just off the top of my head. The Emmys are going to be incredibly competitive yet again.

And on that note, I am going to retire to my easy chair with my book for a little while before I start cleaning and writing and doing whatever it is I should be doing on this late December lazy Sunday.

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