When I spoke recently with Kyle Starks, one story assured me that Wrestle Heist would be a proper barn-burner.
It’s right there in the top of our Q&A, where he recounts being just a wee baby when his grandmother started taking him to wrestling shows. It’s that story that informs the interest, respect, and passion that Starks (who is joined here by colorist Vladimir Popov) clearly has for wrestling at large. And, in turn, it’s that very commitment and deep, abiding respect that makes Wrestle Heist one of the more entertaining, resonant, and downright interesting wrestling comics of the last decade or so.
If you were somehow confused about what Wrestle Heist is about (It’s. Right. There.), we follow Sterling Steele, the former top heel of a local wrestling fed who is looking to make a jump to the competition. Only Sterling has an in-ring accident (that, once again, may not actually be an accident…), and he’s left struggling with the shards of his career. So, he plots his revenge on the league’s promoter (Buddy) by planning a heist during their upcoming big-time Thanksgiving extravaganza.
Main cover by Kyle Starks. Courtesy of Image Comics.
Admittedly, Wrestle Heist isn’t the most inventive tale ever. Even Starks mostly admitted to that, and the appeal is more that we’re telling a heist story via the lens of pro wrestling. And that’s rather on par for a lot of other similar rasslin’ comics. That includes Do A Powerbomb (a story of familial grief); Hell is a Squared Circle (the ol’ underdog/lovable loser trope); and The Crimson Cage (it’s “Macbeth 2.0″). You might find that annoying for some reason — wrestling being just a device for “larger” storytelling — but if you need something more actively wrestling-centric, WWE has some decent enough comics.
Still, Wrestle Heist is unique in that Starks’ admiration for the sport comes through brilliantly in how he approaches this weird, carnival-adjacent world (which ain’t easy considering how insular wrestling can be and its social standing until very recently). As Sterling moves through his last match, into his retirement, and subsequent recruitment for the big haul, the world of wrestling is treated with perpetual grace and nuance. I commented that it feels like the old days of WCW, where so much of the appeal wasn’t the matches but the backstage politicking and robust human drama playing out in locker rooms and the booker’s office.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
Wrestle Heist shows us this very side with unblinking earnestness and interesting, and the crux of this story is how this singular microcosm actually operates and how a heist wouldn’t be so far-fetched if you had to deal with some of these scum suckers. It’s a story clearly written by a wrestling fan (duh), and he’s not afraid to be as real and organic as possible because to truly know wrestling is to understand it’s a spectacle like few others.
And this “insider’s perspective,” as it were, makes a few key elements of Wrestle Heist possible in the first place. Starks also commented that he wanted to play with our expectations by having the heel Sterling as our lead. Only by recognizing the endless shades of moral, narrative, and emotional gray that exists in wrestling does the sheer genius of that move really shine true. Because Sterling is built for this leading role, and his backstage decency and on-screen villainy feels like the perfect encapsulation of the complexity and theatricality that imbues much of modern wrestling.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
But like any great wrestling lineup, we get more than one star. Issue #1 sees Sterling try to recruit Gravedigger, a former pro who is barely surviving on the convention circuit. As much as Sterling’s injury and subsequent plotting immediately endear him to us as this stand-in for our own worldly frustrations, I found Gravedigger to be even more charming and dynamic. Sure, a lot of his presence in issue #1 is meant to expose the dark underbelly of wrestling, and the fact that he’s a black man in an industry with a problematic history only extends that essential commentary.
But again, Gravedigger is Starks at his most human. He’s not just lambasting the industry (which it needs for its heaps of feckless behaviors), but giving us real background and reasonings as to why Gravedigger might join up. And if we’re going to believe that this story can be real (even if it’s a touch ludicrous, sort of like all of pro wrestling), then we need that undeniable core of humanity. We need to feel these folks as real men who gave their all for stardom only to be broken and beaten down. To feel them at their lowest means we can connect to their lot in life, hope for the best, and buy into this scheme with more gusto and dedication than a million versions of Ocean’s Eleven. It’s very much how this gets to be a crime and a wrestling story, and both parts stand tall as they also swirl/mix into an interesting new hybrid of sorts.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
Still, as much as I think Wrestle Heist nearly pulls off the perfect squash match on our personal sensibilities, there are some issues worth addressing. In the only instance of this “moment” in issue #1, there’s a character named Bearwolf introduced who I assume will be involved with the heist itself. Only, he feels like a bad Ultimate Warrior satire, and as much as the real man deserves such ridicule, it felt like an odd move in comparison to the well-developed tendencies of both Sterling and Gravedigger. Still, it’s a small enough issue, and maybe with time we can get a Bearwolf that’s interesting and also a giant weird jerk for us to further explore.
Similarly, I think Starks’ overall art style could be a factor for some readers. I for one love the idea of having this very serious story, taking place in this very specific industry with its own unique relationship to the value of visuals/aesthetics, have a decidedly cartoonish, wonderfully hokey aesthetic. It feels like a nice counter to the pomp and machismo of wrestling, and a way to further humanize these characters as we tell this really personalized story of loss and revenge.
Courtesy of Image Comics.
At the same time, based on some early “matches” in issue #1, I do worry slightly if we’ll get a lot of big, bold action. That’s very much a cornerstone to great wrestling stories — violence can be used as a shorthand for various ideas, or just to prime or disarm the audience. Even if subsequent issues do feature more grappling (which I’m not so sure of given the book’s tendency to focus on behind-the-scenes action), Starks’ style may not have enough overt intensity and power to use actual wrestling and “combat” in a way that maximizes all of its unique storytelling elements/components. Still, that’s a problem for another day (if at all), and for now we’re getting a unique world in which to consider the true scope of wrestling.
Now, if this were the Wrestling Observer, some of those aforementioned critiques might bump Wrestle Heist down, say, half a star. But this ain’t that rag, and it all just speaks to the wonderful, sometimes messy humanity at the center of this book. It’s that joy, dedication, and sense of continued wonder (about wrestling’s grand potential and scope) that will win out every single time. It’s a lively story core that’ll dropkick any uncertainty or unknowing; suplex you into seeing its raw power; and eventually pin you heart, body, and soul so that you believe wrestling’s genuine magic.
Now, onto the second fall already, Mean Gene.
You must be logged in to post a comment.