Phil Wang was about to get his hands on the championship belt. He was claiming the prize for Clash of the Comics, the bombastic night that throws comedians and pro wrestlers into the ring, when Ed Gamble stormed in, knocked everyone out, and swanned off with the belt. “Well,” corrects the comedian and Clash co-founder Max Olesker, “we were knocked down by his henchman.” Hulking pro wrestler Bullit was the one to clothesline him and his comedy partner, Ivan Gonzalez. “I think I could have taken Ed if he’d been on his own,” huffs Olesker.
The popularity of pro wrestling has fluctuated since its golden era in the 1980s. At the start of this year, WWE made the leap on to Netflix with an eye-watering $5bn (£4bn) deal, inching the skimpily clad, heavily muscled combat sport higher in the public consciousness. In Britain, it has a rich working-class history, growing from the grassroots to raising some of the greatest international contenders such as Will Ospreay and Zack Sabre Jr. Now, wrestling is dipping a greased-up toe into the theatrical limelight, with a smattering of productions across the UK welcoming new audiences through alternative performance lenses, from comedy to queer cabaret to a living sculpture that uses bondage to suspend disbelief.
