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Cody Rhodes

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THE AMERICAN NIGHTMARE: CODY RHODES From Undesirable to Undeniable There are wrestling careers. And then there are wrestling stories. Cody Rhodes has one of the great stories. It is a story about inheritance and identity. About failure and reinvention. About leaving home only to discover who you really are. About being told you are not good enough, walking away, becoming somebody somewhere else, and returning to the place that once rejected you as something completely different. Most importantly, it is a story about a son finishing what his father could not. For years, Cody Rhodes was introduced as the son of The American Dream, Dusty Rhodes. He inherited the bloodline, the wrestling education and the famous surname, but inheritance is not achievement. The Rhodes name could open a door. It could not guarantee that Cody would become a star once he walked through it. He had to become one. And before he became The American Nightmare , before the elaborate entrances, the tailor...
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Hairspray

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HAIRSPRAY: Big Hair, Bigger Dreams and a Beat That Refuses to Stop Antakalipa | Consciousess of culture. “Good Morning, Baltimore!” There are productions that entertain, productions that move us, and productions that remind us why we keep returning to the theatre. Then there is Hairspray : a spectacular collision of music, colour, comedy, choreography and imagination that seems determined to shake the dust off the world and make everybody dance. At Die Centurion Teater, I attended the opening of Hairspray – The Broadway Musical , presented by Scenario Productions in partnership with Die Centurion Teater. What an experience! Singing, energy, vibrant colours, enthusiasm, humour and a production bursting with life. There is something infectious about a musical that commits so completely to joy. From the moment Baltimore begins to wake up, the theatre becomes a place where imagination runs wild, bodies find their rhythm and the possibility of a better world begins to take s...
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GOLDBERG

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GOLDBERG: WHO'S NEXT? There are wrestlers who enter an arena. There are wrestlers who make an entrance. And then there are wrestlers whose arrival feels like a natural disaster. The lights go dark. The crowd begins to rumble. A wall of smoke appears. And then— GOLDBERG. No elaborate storyline is necessary. No complicated explanation. No twenty-minute entrance. Just a man walking toward the ring with the expression of someone who has already decided that somebody is about to get hurt. The crowd explodes. The music hits. Goldberg marches forward. And somewhere in the arena, thousands of people begin asking the question that became synonymous with one of professional wrestling's most destructive forces: “WHO'S NEXT?” Goldberg was never the most technically sophisticated wrestler. He wasn't trying to be. He wasn't Bret Hart. He wasn't Shawn Michaels. He wasn't Kurt Angle. Goldberg was something else. He was impact. He was intimidation. He was velocit...
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