There's a documentary series currently on Netflix, called Muscles & Mayhem: An Unauthorized Story of American Gladiators. It’s about a TV show, where contestants competed wih professional athletes called Gladiators, done in a game-like setting. The show, which aired from 1989-1996, was a huge influence on game show formats like Wipeout. I watched this documentary with fascination and bafflement. There's so much to unpack: the inner workings of showbiz, fame and celebrity, depression, addiction, use of steroids, the search for acceptance and affirmation. The way the story is told in this documentary series, really brings home the fact that we, as humans, need stories. We need that hero's journey, one way or the other. Even when there are none. Is that why we invent them? The Netflix series spans five episodes. There are interviews with former Gladiators themselves, with organisers, tour promoters and executives of the show. There are the obligatory animations we have come to expect from these kind of productions. Some seem to be inspired by the famous A-ha music video Take on Me. Others are a callback to popular animated cartoons from the1980s, like He-Man. It's effective though, and I see what the creators were trying to achieve. There's also loads of archive material, portraying the 1980 as a sun bleached muscle fest. Palm trees, beach bodies and big hair. It's a paean to the American idea of the 1980s, an iconic set of images, shot mostly in L.A. I'll watch almost anything if it has interesting archive footage and this was no exception. The conception of the show is the name American Gladiators. That's it. That was the idea, the name. It made me think of Theranos, a company with a too good to be true concept. Lots of investors fell for it though. But American Gladiators wasn't even a harebrained scheme. It was a name, thought up by a man called Johnny Ferraro, an Elvis impersonator and an organiser of bare knuckle fighting contests. Ferraro had an amazing title, now a show had to be built around it. American Gladiators was set up as entertainment. This was, after all, the age of the bodybuilder. People like Arnold Schwarzenegger and Hulk Hogan were huge. The so called Gladiators (with stage names like Blaze, Ice, Sky, Gemini, Malibu) were selected by casting agents. A sports background was important, but looks were too. This was entertainment after all, as witnessed by the costumes the Gladiators had to wear, which offered no protection against injuries. It was mostly just sequins and foam. American Gladiators was not an instant success. There was a rivaling show that got more support, when Ferraro and the producers tried to get the format sold. The underdog position of American Gladiators is emphasized in the series, because people like an underdog. The executives who are interviewed spin a different story than the Gladiators who were, quite literally, on the battleground. They seem mainly worried about optics: marketability and revenue. As the episodes progress the stories of executives and gladiators start to diverge even more. The sets, built for competing, were not up to professional standards. ‘Rinkydink’, one of the former Gladiators calls them when asked about it. The floors were bare concrete, there was no padding, no protection. Naturally, this caused liability issues. At some point one of the producers says that they 'got a little better every year' about preventing injuries. It's clear that from the start, protecting the Gladiators was not a priority.

One of the executives states that people can get injuries from “playing touch football. People tear their knees playing tag.” She trivializes the serious issues that the Gladiators face. If you turn it around though, you can argue that when, like the Dutch say, ‘an accident hides in a small corner’, it's even more important to focus on the Gladiators' wellbeing, since even playing tag can result in a torn knee. There were no medics present. In the first season, two Gladiators got so hurt during the contests, they had to quit. Because everyone had to sign a waiver, they got nothing. The show gained traction when it got acquired by Goldwyn Mayer. The Gladiators turned into celebrities. To keep up their constant performance, some Gladiators started dabbling in steroid use. But when marketing started to focus on kids, steroid use became a problem.The production team felt they had to do something, since they didn't want to lose advertisers. They announced testing, which was never seriously enforced, because the promise of oversight regarding steroids was apparently enough. Amid growing popularity, the Gladiators went on tour: between televised seasons the athletes visited 130 cities in 50 weeks, competing with locals. This was absolutely brutal. Lack of recuperation time and sub-par food constituted a problem. The tour was managed by a guy who was accustomed to music tours. In the documentary he says somewhat incredulously, that the athletes did not want to eat 'normal rock and roll food'. Athletes, obviously, have different dietary needs than a band of musicians. No one in production had taken these kind of things into account. When the Gladiators returned from touring they were expected to go right into filming the next American Gladiator season. At least they were now making some money, but it seems it was just enough to pay the bills, as one former Gladiator indicates. According to the head executive at the time, the show was not expensive to make. Touring was a financial miscalculation, though, since sponsoring did not come through. Then again, merchandise went through the roof. I don't know how much the production team, Ferarro et al got paid, but it was probably more that what the Gladiators ever saw. Johnny Ferrarro chastised a woman Gladiator for bringing her girlfriend along. 'Not the image we want to have' he apparently told her. Now I know this was the late eighties, early nineties. But even so, taking into account the pushback LGBT folks today have to face once more, it just makes me angry. The best thing about the documentary are the friendships between the Gladiators, the acceptance among them. They were in a pretty exceptional position, so of course they bonded, sharing the same crazy experience of being young, the accerelation to fame, touring the United States and having fans fawning over them. You could say they made the themselves and the show succes, despite the production, which at times seemed to almost undermine them. The real undermining comes at the end, when it's revealed that all Gladiators signed contracts that allowed no raises and no piece of the merchandise revenue. These were contracts for perpetuity, so there was no prospect of renegotiaton. When some of the athletes wanted to band together to enforce change, not everyone was on board. The ones stepping forward were axed and new Gladiators were cast and brought in. The executives show no mercy when asked about this. “They signed the contracts that they signed”, and “You had to have a constant evolution of Gladiators because of the wear and tear”. I honestly don't know which quote is worse.

And sure, there were perks. Small roles in TV series, commercials, Playboy photoshoots. But there were also situations such as working while pregnant, addiction to painkillers, because of the constant strain and injury to one's body. The depression, the despair a sudden fall from the limelight can bring. These were young people, inexperienced, when they signed up. It's somewhat understandable that some ex Gladiators returned when they got invited back in. But it's also frustrating. To hear them wax poetic about their second run is, quite frankly, baffling. They got thrown out and now they're back, singing praises to the show, its producers and executives. The humanity that the series afford the ex Gladiators, now that they're older and look back, is a nice touch. There are some heartbreaking stories about the personal problems and issues the Gladiators have had and some are open about their struggles and pain. I understand that the former Gladiators talk glowingly about their experience and how they made friends for life. But it wasn't exactly the show that did this. They themselves formed these bonds, despite the predatory format. It left a bit of a bad taste in my mouth to see it all smoothed over. A hero's journey at all costs. Even when taking into account the obligatory ‘feel good’ vibe this series ultimately wants to highlight, I see some positive takeaways from this Netflix series. The importance of accepting LGBT persons and unionizing cannot be understated. We may idolize rugged individuality, but I think humanity’s power lies in empathy and collectivity.