Netflix has recently acquired the rights to WWE programming while simultaneously commissioning documentaries that expose the deep flaws of its stars. After the success of its Vince McMahon series, it was inevitable that the streaming giant would turn its attention to wrestling's biggest and most complicated star. The result is Hulk Hogan: Real American, a four-part docuseries that charts the almighty rise and bleak fall of a one-time wrestling hero who became closer friends with Donald Trump.
The Rise of a Phenomenon
Few wrestlers have risen as high or fallen as low as Hogan, born Terry Bollea. For a considerable stretch of time, Hogan was the WWE—a bundle of marketable tricks and quirks that set him apart from the other grunting men in pants. He possessed an uncanny understanding of what the punters wanted, becoming the shirt-ripping, catchphrase-spewing hero who was regularly brought back from the brink of defeat by the love of the crowd alone. He espoused unblinking all-American Reagan-era patriotism that even seemed over the top back then.
There were Hulk Hogan toys, Hulk Hogan cartoons, and a short-lived Pastamania restaurant in the Mall of America. The documentary revels in his rise, closely mirroring The Last Dance—the seminal Michael Jordan documentary—as peers, fans, and commentators marvel at someone carving themselves into Mount Rushmore in real time.
The Fall: Scandals and Decline
But that is only half the story. For the final half of his life, Hogan found himself on the back foot. His body was battered by professional obligations, and his steroid use was through the roof. Trapped by his reputation as an all-American good guy and his love of fame, he clung tighter to his position, even as it curdled everything around him.
We see the rise of Bret Hart, a purely skilled technician, come to a halt because Hogan couldn't bear to cede the spotlight. Hart calls him a "backstabbing, knife-wielding piece of shit." Hogan becomes embroiled in a steroid scandal that tarnishes his reputation. He joins the WCW and turns heel, diving to lower depths—Viagra matches, getting covered in fake blood—to stay relevant. He gets slower and slower, like a past-its-prime circus bear brought out one too many times. It's tragic to watch.
Then it gets worse. Instead of following Dwayne Johnson's path to film stardom, Hogan made a reality TV show, Hogan Knows Best, which exposed and magnified the flaws in his home life. Suddenly, Terry Bollea the human—not Hulk Hogan the wrestler—was fair game.
Terry Bollea was far messier. He broke up his marriage by having sex with one of his daughter's friends. A sex tape leaked into the world, and he teamed up with a billionaire to destroy the media empire that leaked it. He drank. He took so much fentanyl that medics said it should have killed him. He publicly sympathised with OJ Simpson. He was caught being so unspeakably racist that the WWE cut ties with him.
The MAGA Turn
We first see Donald Trump in episode two, signing a programme in the front row of Wrestlemania IV in 1988 as Hogan roars, "Thank God Donald Trump is a Hulkamaniac!" But by 2024, this had ossified into something much darker.
Hogan's final chapter comes during the 2024 Republican National Convention, where he rips off his shirt and howls, "Let Trumpamania run wild, brother," at 20,000 screaming fans. It wins Trump's favour—Trump sits for a half-hearted interview in the White House for the series, beginning with him grumbling, "I have a big Russia meeting going on"—but it decimates his fanbase.
Hogan's last big public appearance came at Netflix's big WWE launch. After years of letting the world see the man and not the brand, he was booed out of the building. After a mournful attempt to justify himself, he stands up and ends the interview. Three months later, he died.
What's Left
Despite the show's attempt to finish with a hagiographic montage, what remains is a portrait of an undeniably broken man. It's a lesson that the harder you try to present yourself as an invincible force, the more people will notice the weakness behind it. No wonder he felt such an affinity with Trump.
