Rating: 8 out of 10.

Are you going to tell the right story?

“American Gladiators” was a huge part of my childhood. I would watch it on USA Network every Saturday morning if I woke up early enough (it aired in a block of syndicated shows before “Wings”, “Parker Lewis Can’t Lose”, and some others). I even had the Tiger Electronics game to play in the car on road trips. There was just something about its David vs. Goliath concept and big personalities that entertained and enthralled.

Because I never actually wanted to compete myself. It wasn’t about vicariously placing myself into the shoes of contenders or gladiators. It was simply fun. A spectacle with personality—much like its kid-driven successor GUTS on Nickelodeon. And it was real. The men and women on-screen were taking unbelievable punishment before popping back up with a smile on their faces.

As naive as I was back then cheering them on, however, you can’t think about the show now without knowing those smiles hid much darker truths. The fact its origins came during a writer’s strike. The reality that no human could take the hits these athletes took without doing irreparable damage to their bodies and brains. And that these gladiators couldn’t have been getting paid much.

It didn’t matter that they were performing dual roles as participators and showmen. It didn’t matter that they were doing it in an unscripted fashion without the choreography afforded to professional wrestlers. The only consolation would therefore be the exorbitant royalties from having their likenesses on everything from cereal boxes to action figures while also going on tour … except that this was 1989 and the scope of the show’s popularity couldn’t have been anticipated in those terms. So, they unsurprisingly got nothing.

That’s the cold, sobering reality of overnight phenomena like this. The exploitation of their true talent. The revisionist history of their origins. The meticulous and litigious strong-arming of those who believe themselves to be the true subject of their tales, like one-and-only John Ferraro: creator … or co-creator? … or thief?! of the whole thing.

Thankfully director Ben Berman (and co-director Kirk Johnson) understand the appeal of such messy background drama, choosing to highlight and exploit it to add an invaluable spark to an already captivating oral account of the highs and lows of everyone involved. He knows it’s not about calling out Nitro (Danny Lee Clark), Ice (Lori Fetrick), and Blaze (Sha-Ri Pendleton) for refusing to participate. It’s about unearthing why they refused. It’s about centering the ill-will that remains with some players and the blatant suppression tactics wielded by the catalyst of that ire. The American Gladiators Documentary succeeds at bringing everything to light.

To do so, Berman and company must have the stomach to risk alienating their meal ticket: Ferraro. A micromanager constantly interjecting unsolicited ideas that will make him look better and/or give him more control, Ferraro does not come out looking very good when all is said and done. This is a former Elvis impersonator from Erie, PA who’s never not looking for an angle.

Meet him on the street and you would assume he’s a con man or a crook. Most “Hollywood” producers are. And when they only have a single meal ticket like “American Gladiators” to their name, they find themselves stretching the line as far as it can go to “protect the brand.” Or in layman’s speak, to protect “their cut.” Because that’s how this starts. Ferraro’s involvement is a play. He needs exposure bad enough to concede Berman final cut, but Berman needs his participation to maintain relevance.

The result is a narrative that takes a lot more turns than you may expect once names like Dann Carr and Don Plonski are mentioned. After Part 1 delivers what you assumed (a timeline, anecdotes, and first-hand accounts of the magic and fallout by Michael M. Horton’s Gemini, Lynn ‘Red’ Williams’ Sabre, fan favorite Wesley “Two Scoops” Berry, the show’s director, games designer, producers, and more), Part 2 becomes more of a fact-finding detective case in search of answers on a growing list of questions and hearsay.

Berman documents it all with tongue-in-cheek, using mockumentary trademarks to really drive home how crazy things get once Ferraro labels certain topics taboo. The close-up on John’s face when an Erie native admits he’s never heard of him before then saying he’s definitely heard of Dann Carr (a person John blocked Berman from contacting) is priceless. So, come for the nostalgia and history of those who bled for the show and stay for the ego and spin of its desperate “creator.”


John Ferraro in THE AMERICAN GLADIATORS DOCUMENTARY; courtesy of ESPN.

Leave a comment