Arquette pursues dream to brink of death
New documentary traces actor’s pro wrestling journey
It was an act of wrestling sacrilege: While promoting his 2000 movie “Ready to Rumble,” David Arquette won the WCW World Heavyweight Championship in a stunt that would be reviled for decades by those who take professional wrestling — and the blood, sweat, talent and training that go into it — seriously.
The actor’s WCW championship win is still regarded as one of the worst moments in pro wrestling.
Eighteen years later, after a whirlwind ascent on the indie pro circuit, Arquette found himself being rushed to the hospital bleeding severely from the neck after a hardcore wrestling deathmatch gone wrong.
His need to prove himself, he admits, nearly cost him his life.
“One of the things people were saying about me was that I wasn’t tough. I was like, ‘Oh, I’m tough. I’m also crazy,’ ” Arquette said. “I just went too far with it.”
“You Cannot Kill David Arquette,” a documentary about his efforts to earn real ring respect, explains why, decades after the wrestling world turned against him, the rejection still stung for the lifelong wrestling fan. The blow was twofold; soon afterward, Hollywood stopped taking him seriously too.
He’s acted steadily in indie films nonetheless, appearing most recently in the August release “Spree.” Upcoming projects include the horror comedy “12 Hour Shift” and “Ghosts of the Ozarks” with Tim Blake Nelson, both of which he and wife Christina McLarty Arquette also produced.
But a few years ago, after undergoing heart surgery in his mid-40s, Arquette, now 48, became fixated on redeeming his name in wrestling and becoming a wrestler himself. With documentary cameras rolling, he pursued a legitimate run in a sport in which most fans openly hate him, this time playing the role of the accidental heel — wrestling-speak for the bad guy — yearning for acceptance.
Produced by McLarty Arquette, executive produced by Arquette and directed by David Darg and Price James, the documentary is now available via video on demand platforms.
This conversation with Arquette has been edited for clarity and length.
What did you hope people would learn from this documentary when you began filming?
I wanted to make it a love letter to wrestling and a bridge from Hollywood to wrestling. I also wanted to understand wrestling for myself, to really see why people got so mad (in 2000). I also learned that in what I was doing, there was an element — especially what led me to the deathmatch — that I’d been beating myself up for so long.
There’s all this stuff you learn in wrestling about self-confidence and determination, having to power through the ongoing pain, having to get up and get to another town. The strain it puts on relationships. Showing up and the hotel room’s not there that’s supposed to be. Some people are really sweet, some people are really shady; it is a microcosm of life.
It taught me a lot about time, because time in the ring goes fast. One of the main things you have to learn is how to slow it down but be completely present. Even in the middle of a match you’re remembering how to work together, how to sell, how to play to the crowd and improvise, all these things.
How do you look back on the journey now, given that it all happened not too long ago?
Life’s a roller coaster. I’m good now. It’s hard to stay calm and anxiety-free, but it did capture this moment in time when I was figuring out a lot of these things. Believe it or not, throughout this pandemic, it’s been not peaceful, because there’s always craziness going on, and obviously drinking’s a huge problem for me, so when I don’t drink, my life is better.
That’s one of many struggles you’re very open about in the film.
Even this is just a glimpse of me. I feel weird when I talk about this stuff, but I also feel weird not talking about it. I don’t like hiding, I don’t like secrets, I don’t like people that are mean. I try to be open and kind to people. Sometimes it leads to good things, and sometimes you get yourself into trouble.
Kayfabe in wrestling is this veil between reality and fiction protecting the business and its lore — but making a documentary is counter to that idea in many ways. ... How did you negotiate that line?
There was always a bit of push and pull about the kayfabe of it all. My wife actually kicked me out of the editing room because I was too close to it. I was very protective of the business. We’re protective in other parts of the movie, but that’s the one we reveal because we wanted people to get a better understanding of what wrestling was; even though it’s choreographed, it’s not fake in any regard. We wanted people to feel that they were on the journey with me, like they had stakes in it.
“One of the things people were saying about me was that I wasn’t tough. I was like, ‘Oh, I’m tough. I’m also crazy.’ I just went too far with it.”
— David Arquette, left, on his need to prove himself in professional wrestling
So you’re a lifelong wrestling fan, you get the chance to be part of it and then people hate you for the next 20 years. That’s rough.
It does have an effect on your personality. But the only reason those tweets hurt is because they tap into something you’ve been telling yourself, that you’re not good enough or you’re not this or that. And you fall into this dark pit of, “woe is me,” but it’s important not to listen to that voice and to believe in yourself. That’s what I’m trying to do.
In the film, your career frustrations are attributed to being typecast as a goofball. Why did you decide to return to the role of Dewey for the upcoming “Scream 5” sequel?
Part of that is that I am a goofball, but I also have a very serious side and can play dramatic roles, so it’s just the shallowness of Hollywood and the way they see things. But I love playing the role, and I love that I’ll be able to work with Courteney (Cox) again, and hopefully Neve (Campbell) comes onboard because she’s really the heart and soul of the franchise.
Your time spent with luchadores in Tijuana seems particularly meaningful. What stayed with you the most from that training?
There is such a love for wrestling there. It’s almost religious in a sense where it’s super respected and it’s generational, that’s one of the main things I learned. They throw coins if they like what you did in your match, and I got a couple of those coins, and I carried them with me through all of my other matches. It meant a lot to me.