You've heard of the WWF, JFK, and most likely WTF.

But are you hip to the WFJ?

The WFJ stands for the Wrestling for Jesus organization, a group of men who, quite literally, wrestle for Jesus.

Think Hulk Hogan and Andre the Giant, but masked, more Southern humble, ferociously out there elbow dropping and clothes lining for Christ.

However, unlike the football industry that prays for plays and tithes for touchdowns, the WFJ wrestles to work out their temper, aggression, and issues in a constructive way by preaching to the crowd throughout the matches to accept Jesus Christ as their Lord and savior.

Picture it:

North Augusta, SC. An echoey fellowship hall centered with a wrestling ring and a gigantic cross, surrounded by folding chairs and crowded with women, children, and non-wrestling onlookers. After the match, everyone approaches the ring and rests their devoted heads on the mat in prayer.

Don't get me wrong. It's actually a respectable, moving group gesture. I LIKE THIS FILM. Sincerely!

Trust me, the premise of this film could have very easily detoured into satire like Sacha Baron Cohen's Borat (2006), Christopher Guest parody, or - god forbid - religious docu-ganda like Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady's Jesus Camp (2006).

Instead, Wrestling for Jesus achieves - albeit inconsistently - a certain earthy and respectful tone, and attempts to capture life as it's happening, much in the vein of cinéma vérité (true cinema) classics like The Maysles Brothers' Gimme Shelter (1970) and Grey Gardens (1975). Other times, it plays out like an ambitious and emotional cultural slice of life piece like Errol Morris' Gates of Heaven (1978) and Vernon, Florida (1981).

Indeed, the filmmaker shares much and shows a-plenty. Such an engrossing topic...

...and yet...

...the filmmaker quite literally sells his film and the audience short. The film clocks in at a mere 70 minutes. It could/should/deserves to be longer (at least standard feature length of 90-120 minutes), or, would benefit from a drastic haircut, go shorter (15 minutes of concise, hard hitting message). Anything in between weakens the fruition of a solid story line, and diminishes a film's lasting impact on the viewer.

Like the main character's beloved backyard wrestling ring, the film's bounty of compelling character arcs, surprise footage, profound side stories, and intriguing mysteries are lost in the shuffle:

• Does anyone in the community ever seek professional help with suicide PTSD?

• What about Pappy the Christian biker's health? What's HIS story?

• How did the pretty ex-wife - who who tried so hard to contribute during Couples' Sunday School - end up with only four hours per month of custody of her four daughters?

• What about the outcome of the broken neck fundraiser?

• Did The Boneyard's goth-Goliaths ever truly reconcile with the WFJ's proverbial Davids?

• What about the ultimate message of the film: What does it take for a person to feel they have something to offer and to share with people, as a means of healing one's self from past tragedy?

• Will anyone ever retrieve his super hero-like suitcase (packed with WFJ title belts and spandex suits) from the crawl space above the florist girlfriend's garage? And if so, will it be to wrestle in the name of the Lord, or will it be just another method of self help?
  Either way, wouldn't it make a terrific story?!?

Audience members and bloggers at the BIFF pray for an extended cut of the film, or a re-imagining of the theme.

It's great, but we want more!

***Here ends the sermon.***

~ Duncan Pittman

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