TLDR: Big Show is big.
2010 was a simpler time—Michelle McCool was Divas champion, Randy Orton was wrestler of the year and I lost my virginity in a hotel room in Maryland. Most importantly, the Big Show, which I believe is his Christian name, starred in a WWE-funded film called Knucklehead, a family comedy that could have made millions of dollars in 1944 but instead made $8,000 and slunk its way to Netflix after the turn of the jaded century.
It’s like we can’t even make disparaging jokes about Jews and women! Come on! This stinks.
A month into my wrestling fandom, we now take a moment for some lighter fare. I’ll be looking at some other ill-fated WWE starring vehicles in future weeks before Wrestlemania descends upon us like a dark, heavy springtime cloud, but in the meantime I give you the journey through Knucklehead.
The movie opens with the most common WWE fan genesis—a chubby, weird kid who is constantly getting bullied for being chubby and weird. But get this: he’s getting bullied by a gay kid. Presumably, this kid is a young Big Show, and he’s bullied by a sexier kid in a wig with the following dialogue:
“Look, who do you think people want in their family portrait—the next American Idol or a fat schlub like you?”
I weep for young Show. Is Knucklehead based on a true story? Was the Sweet Show an orphan who was forced to dress as a dog? Just as I am finally beginning to regain my composure after weeping at these dark thoughts and also some thoughts related to my personal life and plight in general because things are not going well until alas—
THE FAT KID IS NOT BIG SHOW! BIG SHOW IS BIG SHOW! He is a thirty five year old orphan who was never adopted, a fate that has subjected him to haunt the halls of the orphanage and wear a wig that has three yards of bangs attached. This is the Dickensian Show.
Big Show’s name in this film is not Big Show, nor is it his legal name, which is also Big Show, but Walter Klunk. I know what you’re thinking. Could it be a coincidence that Walter Klunk is an anagram for:
The answer is yes, that is a coincidence.
There’s a b-plot introduced featuring a down on his luck, impossibly good-looking MMA trainer who’s actually that guy in Royal Pains if that resonates with you, and if not you’re shit out of luck because that is his most prominent credit. I care not for this b-plot. It’s eight minutes into the movie and Big Show hasn’t farted yet! If I knew of the farts to come, I may have wiped the sweat off my harrowed brow.
Also, Big Show farts at nine minutes and twenty seconds so it’s cool. There’s so much product placement in this scene that I check my bank account and it’s suddenly empty. Big Show, being a Major Idiot and an Elderly Orphan, accidentally sets the kitchen on fire with his chubby ingénue inside.
By minute twelve, Big Show has burned an orphanage to the ground, strictly on the grounds of the property of fire being too much for his tiny meat brain to handle. Naturally, he is threatened by a nun who probably does Shakespeare in her spare time but maybe her son needed to pay for a surgery or something. Isn’t that why people act in these movies?
B-plot guy, whose name is Eddie Sullivan after a screenwriter presumably entered “down on his luck” into a search engine, is turning to God for some guidance on how to be less down and have more luck. This initiates a sequence I like to call “Down on His Luck Guy Discovers Jesus Christ But Hey, He’s Not Sold On It Quite Yet!”
This sequence features a lot of sharp exhales, squinting, and phrases like, “Sup, Big Guy?”
This sequence is marginally better than the one where Big Show takes a shit on a plane.
Anyways, Big Show eventually meets Royal Pains, who decides, in one of the most illogical leaps of logic committed to film, that Big Show the Bangs Boy must become a wrestler in order to save the orphanage! And they’re gonna have to bring a lady, too—let’s call her The Hair. She’s going to take her clothes off later.
At first Big Show does not want to do it but then he decides he will do it…for the fat kid.
The trio takes off in a short bus. How often do you think Show was vaping on the set of Knucklehead? Did I mention there’s a scene early on where he cries and says, “I’m just a knucklehead!!!!”
Let’s take another look at Big Show’s wig after it burned down an orphanage.
At his first match, Show represents his orphanage (St. Thomas, the one who disputed the resurrection of Jesus Christ, which Show would NEVER do) and wears a gigantic diaper, which is Hilarious. They head to their first match.
Why is this taking place in a synagogue? I’m not sure, and I’m sure as hell not watching again. Let’s cut our losses and assume that there was an anti-Semitic remark in it, and they definitely say “Jews hate Christmas.”
Big Show wins the match. Not because he is the Good Show, but because he is the Big Show.
After a number of gay jokes and tearful references to “doing it for the fat kids,” their short bus gets into an accident as their nemesis, who I forgot to mention because he is so narratively inconsequential, pursues them with his prize fighter named Red Rum, which is an anagram for “Um, derr.”
Why would this nun’s assistant, a boxing instructor and the motherfucking Big Show be driving a short bus to New Orleans?
I don’t know. Anyways, their short bus blows up.
A few scenes and perpetuated Mexican stereotypes later, Le Show writes the following letter to the fat kid he either wants to adopt or tear the skin from and wear as a suit. It’s about fat people stuff, and also Jews.
The trip is great so far, I’m learning a lot. I’ve met some really interesting Jews, mostly nice. I passed through Louisville and saw Colonel Sanders’ grave, and the birthplace of the cheeseburger. Awesome!
The countryside is beautiful. We got a firsthand look at it when we blew up the bus. More on that later. (Offscreen: “Move it, fatty!” -a cooler orphan) Hang in there, buddy, and tell all the kids I’m gonna make things right.
After the Jews incident, Royal Pains, Big Show and The Hair take shelter with The Hair’s old stripper friend, The Hairier.
Royal Pains: “They’re girls, they’re loud, let’s go.” Looks like the guy currently penning scripts for the Divas took a pass on this, too!
Another major narrative hit—THEY TAKE HIS SWEET DUMB BOY BANGS AWAY. The movie isn’t even half over, the bangs are gone and I’m ready to jump ship until I see Big Show break this ceiling fan with his big, stupid head. I’m back, and it’s just in time to see Big Show put this CGI bear in a sleeper hold.
Then, there’s a sequence I have difficulty explaining because of its nuance and taste. It is called “Big Show takes a shit on a plane, I think, no wait, it’s a bus.” While there is no artful way to explain this scene, here are the notes I took whilst watching.
There is no reason that this movie is more than two hours long, as seventy-five minutes is devoted to pure, unadulterated hijinks. Biker fight? The beating of a dad? Nun farts? Cry shitting? WWE Studios is providing us with a veritable buffet of bizarre, disjointed creative choices at the expense of a compelling story. It’s almost like…we’re…watching…any WWE broadcast.
Some chefs gather around a cell phone to watch him fight a frat boy and four actors got their SAG card!
The Hair drinks one margarita and heel kicks a waitress in the face for flirting with Royal Pains, presumably killing her. Also, they take their clothes off which is totally dope.
She also reveals that she used to be a stripper, because the only alternative to developing a female character is making her a rape victim and you can’t do that in a kid’s movie. :( She is totally going to fuck Royal Pains.
At last we arrive at the final fight in this film, and it’s profoundly unexciting. Was no one writing this film informed that there is nowhere to go but down once the protagonist defeats a bear?
We’re treated to a series of pop punk songs played at half volume for seven minutes as the match with Red Rum approaches. I am excited to see Big Show kill him, and even more excited to watch him out-act Big Show.
Big Show shouts “I’M JUST A KNUCKLEHEAD!” before winning, in case you forgot. Once he said it crying. Now he said it…not crying. Move over, Tony Soprano, we’ve got ourselves a character here. He wins.
Big Show buys a sweater and adopts the fat kid. The end. OR IS IT?
Notes from this Week:
-After Raw on Monday, can we give Charlotte her own movie vehicle? Absolutely crushing the acting game.
-Another missed opportunity for a compelling Divas night in the week leading up to Night of Champions: Nikki Bella has been creeping up on AJ Lee on the longest Divas championship reign, so Creative decides, perhaps let’s not address it. It sounds compelling. We should abstain.
-LEAVE SHOW ALONE.
Jamie Loftus is a comedian and writer whose baby teeth have been bronzed and loaded into a gun for when the moment is right. You can find her some of the time, most days at @hamburgerphone or jamieloftusisinnocent.com.