When I heard Hulk Hogan died, my immediate reaction was of mild sadness. Even though he was later revealed to be a bigot, Hogan was one of my childhood heroes. I feel a bit self-conscious admitting that in a public forum. But it’s true. 

The 80s were full of colorful heroes. Hulk Hogan reigned supreme. It’s only natural that eventually he’d find his way outside the ring and into a movie in which he gets inside the ring. No Holds Barred isn’t his first film. You may recall he played a pro wrestler named Thunderlips in Rocky III.¹ It didn’t require much acting. Neither does No Holds Barred for that matter, but it stands as his first starring role. 

No Holds Barred imagines a world where pro wrestling is real and somehow makes the sport more melodramatic than it actually is. Executive produced by Vince McMahon and Hogan himself, you’d think the film would have a clear agenda: Get people invested in the sport. Unfortunately, No Holds Barred is a low budget, low effort affair. It’s like they watched the non-sex parts of a porno and said, “Hey, this is good stuff! Let’s make a movie that feels exactly like this.”

Very appropriately-named writer Dennis Hackin created the screenplay. Hackin is the screenwriter on notable classics such as Bronco Billy and Wanda Nevada. I don’t generally dunk on creative people because just getting something done is a miracle in itself. But when something’s this bad, the jokes write themselves. Consider Hackin my unwitting co-star on this piece. 

No Holds Barred is director Thomas J. Wright’s second and also last film credit. He exclusively worked on TV afterwards. I’ll be honest—I was totally prepared to razz on Wright because some of his decisions in this movie are so bizarre, it’s like he was trying to sabotage the project. Then I noticed he directed an episode of Firefly, one of my favorite things in the entire world. Though I have it on good authority that he directed the worst episode. 

In the film, Hulk Hogan plays the world’s greatest wrestler, a bald-n-blonde man who tears his shirt off in the ring and has a symbiotic relationship with the crowd. He’s Hulk Hogan in all but name. The character’s actual name is Rip, which is dumb, so we’ll just refer to him as Hulk Hogan. Which brings me to our first point of inquiry.

Why isn’t the character just Hulk Hogan? Hogan isn’t a real person—it’s a wrestling stage name. In the 80s, it was also wrestling biggest brand. The only people paying to see No Holds Barred did so because of Hulk Hogan. How much better is this movie if it presents as a biography? If the audience is left wondering—wait a minute, did Hulk Hogan once really jump through the roof of a limo to fight off a gang of would-be kidnappers? That alone makes this movie 30% better, even if you change nothing else. The wrestling organization is called the World Wrestling Federation, aka the WWF. So why not Hulk Hogan?

I actually have a theory.