‘GLOW’: An over-the-top-rope romp
The Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling are here, and they sure know how to put on a show.
Netflix’s newest nostalgiatinged offering, GLOW (streaming June 23, out of four), is a halfhour comedy that follows the formation of a women’s wrestling league in the 1980s and is inspired by the real-life brawlers. Starring Alison Brie and created by Liz Flahive ( Nurse Jackie) and Carly Mensch ( Orange Is the New Black), the series is an especially watchable, bedazzled comedy that is, above all, a rollicking good time.
GLOW is anchored by Brie as Ruth, a struggling actress frustrated by the limited parts Hollywood offers women. She and a host of other “unconventional” women end up at an audition for the endearingly low-budget wrestling league, headed by a failed grindhouse movie director (Marc Maron) and an overenthusiastic, trust-fund-kid producer (Chris Lowell). The process is not entirely smooth, as the amateur women attempt, on a low budget, to make it look like they’re hurting each other without actually killing each other. But hey, their hair always looks amazing. And big.
Brie is enjoyable in the lead role, a more grating character than the good girls she played in Communi
ty and Mad Men. But it’s the women around her who truly shine, including Britney Young as Carmen, the daughter of a wrestling legend trying to make her own mark, and Betty Gilpin as Debbie, a former soap star wrangled into the ring amid a personal crisis.
The series is executive-produced by Orange creator Jenji Kohan, whose touches are easy to spot. Like Orange, GLOW is at its strongest when it focuses on the diverse cast, digging beneath the stereotypical characters the men in charge create for them.
The show walks a fine line between recognizing that the racial and ethnic stereotypes were a big part of wrestling and having the characters question the responsibility of portraying them. When a black woman (Kia Stevens) expresses discomfort at playing the “Welfare Queen,” her complaint is discussed but ignored. These ideas are sometimes bigger than the show itself, a breezy binge-watch that doesn’t truly dig into them.
GLOW succeeds because of the writers’ affinity for wrestling as entertainment. The show revels in every move, every over-the-top costume, every fake shriek of pain. It’s hard not to get caught up in the spirit of it all. If you can’t have fun with the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling, then who?