Southern Discomfort: Wrestling on the Indie Circuit

"I'm 100 percent serious," proclaims Peggy Lee Leather, a large, fierce woman dressed in black who is about to enter the Alabama wrestling ring against Bambi, a smaller woman outfitted in red, white and blue, sporting a winning smile. Bambi loves her work, which she calls "the most glamorous life." In a stereotypical match of good vs. evil, the sweet all-American Bambi wins, after a great deal of jumping, thumping, body-slamming, and posturing. Although Southern Discomfort (written, produced, and directed by Fred Olen Ray) provides valuable documentary footage of the small-town South at its most repellent, this interminable homage to so-called professional wrestling fails to address the most glaring universally acknowledged truth--that the entire show is choreographed: there's no more real drama or contest here than in a superhero cartoon. Even so, one can only wonder at the stamina of the wrestlers, who pretend to fight in wilting 105-degree temperatures and who do indeed suffer (accidental) bruises, broken ribs/noses/fingers, and knocked-out teeth as part of the hazards of their job. In other featured events, we witness veteran good-guy Bullet Bob Armstrong battle The Flame, a rotund little man in a yellow mask who is a mild-mannered restaurateur during the week, and we endure the black-mustachioed, full-bellied Iron Sheik (purportedly from Iran, so he is--of course--evil) vs. The Power Raider hidden behind a mask and motorcycle helmet. Many viewers will agree with Nasty Steve Lane, a wrestler who comments, "I don't know what appeals to those rednecks out there. They should take a bath every now and then. They smell." An optional purchase for sociology collections and popular public library collections. Aud: H, C, P. (M. Pendergrast)