The Story of Edge
Edge’s new documentary begins in a way no other WWE-produced documentary ever has. The entire feature is framed around an interview with Edge by 102.1 The Edge in Toronto the morning before ‘Edge Appreciation Night’ last summer. Within a few minutes of the interview, the interviewer asks Edge about his retirement, and how life is now that he isn’t a full time wrestler. Edge, in a surprising turn, suggests that he doesn’t miss the wrestling life at all.
This isn’t the kind of thing you expect to hear from a newly-retired superstar, especially considering how few wrestlers ever really retire (injuries be damned, for the most part). But Edge’s attitude is one of real acceptance. His doctor said he couldn’t wrestle, so he’s not hung up about not being able to. It’s a theme that resonates throughout his career. If he can do something, he does. If he can’t, then he doesn’t. Edge isn’t a character that worries about the what-ifs: he’s an ultimate opportunist who makes his own luck. Adam Copeland isn’t a man who worries about the what-ifs: he buys a house in the middle of nowhere and climbs mountains every day.
Adam also explains that he has worked hard on separating himself from the Edge character. It’s clear that he’s seen how difficult many wrestlers find letting go, and he wants nothing to do with that tension. Calling himself Adam as often as possible is one way to go: becoming a bit of a recluse is another. It’s a decision that seems to come easy for him, much like many things appeared to come easily for him. The documentary explains that he received a WWE contract after only a few years toiling in the indies. He just goes up, up, and up from there.
The only thing that plagues Adam throughout his career are injuries, and these are thoroughly documented and explained. The Story of Edge is also the story of how a choreographed show still takes a serious toll on the body, especially the kinds of matches Edge redefined. We are shown ladder shots, then X-ray tests. We’re shown highlight reels, and then concerned family members. Every incredible, death-defying maneuver is contrasted with a consequence.
So we know about the great tag team antics with Christian. We know about the eventual Money in the Bank win and his ascension to the main event. We know about his great feuds with John Cena, the Undertaker, and others. We totally forgot about his work with Batista, but they’re ready to remind us. The typical stuff is there. I wonder, though, why they omitted so much? Why gloss over his intercontinental title work? Why omit the entire feud with Jericho (almost nothing from 2010 makes it in; even the Rumble victory is only shown as a clip).
I think it’s because they wanted us to know Adam, even if we have to forget a few things about Edge. The relationship with Lita in 2005 is given lots of time, as is his relationships with his close family and friends (all of them in attendance as talking heads, including ex-employees Rhyno and Batista). In fact, I wonder if more time was spent on this documentary to promote the idea of Adam, now that we’ve been somewhat robbed of Edge.
Everyone is awash with compliments, mostly on just how bloody nice Adam is. It comes across: he’s winning in every scene, and there’s a sparkle to his smile few people have. He’s truly worry-free, or at least he’s doing his best to look it. But, I wonder, what does WWE have to gain selling a documentary showing a happy, retired guy who has no desire to even try to wrestle ever again? If you ask me, it’s a WWE at peace with itself, finally ready to admit that its universe isn’t the be all end all.
But on the other hand, I wonder if it’s trying to promote something larger, something it feels it’s tapped into in society. Last year, when Punk won the WWE Championship and walked away from the company (it was a gloriously long week for wrestling fans), I wrote something called Left and Leaving. I wrote about this idea that people these days, more than anything, just want to go home and stay there:
When did simply going home and staying there become a thing we sought after? I don’t remember, but I certainly feel it. A lot of people feel it. Maybe the last generation wanted to punch out their boss. Maybe back then Stone Cold Steve Austin made them feel really good, because they could imagine what it would be like if they could act like he did. But today, these days, it’s about going home. That’s all any of us want, it seems. We want to sit on our couch and cuddle our girl and watch HBO. We want to lazily wander around at home and chat with our friends and Tumblr for hours. We want to be left the fuck alone and only dip into society when we goddamn feel like.
It’s still true for CM Punk, but it’s really true for Adam. Watch this documentary, and tell me you don’t want to follow in his footsteps and find a place where there’s nothing but you and mountains. Tell me you don’t want to shut off the world and hammer a giant tire with a sledgehammer all day. Tell me you don’t want what Adam has.
With The Story of Edge, WWE has found the new American Dream. It’s not success: it’s blissful resignation after success.
Originally published at internationalobject.tumblr.com.