The Death Tour Review: The Raw Truth Behind Wrestling's Toughest Tour

I’ve been a professional wrestling fan since the glory days of Ricky the Dragon Steamboat and Macho Man Randy Savage. When I tell people I watch wrestling I usually get one of two reactions: either they’re a fan too and we dive into debating the greatest Royal Rumble ever, or, more often, I’m met with condescension as they point out “wrestling is fake.”

Co-directors Stephan Peterson and Sonya Ballantyne’s documentary The Death Tour profiles a group of men and women’s all-too-real struggle to endure the harsh world of professional wrestling. Peterson and Ballantyne capture the highs and lows on a punishing indie tour, to tell an inspiring story that will appeal to wrestling fans and nonfans alike.

The film follows up-and-comers as they embark on “the Death Tour,” one of the most arduous circuits in the wrestling business. The tour involves travelling across Northern Manitoba, facing the harsh winter elements by day, and putting on shows in remote Indigenous communities each night. It’s a gruelling two-week stretch that pushes the wrestlers to their mental and physical limits.

Led by foul-mouthed and no-nonsense promoter Tony Condello, the Death Tour is the ultimate gauge of a wrestler’s heart and dedication. Or as former WWE Undisputed Champion Chris Jericho puts it, “If you want to be a wrestler, the Death Tour is a definite way to prove to yourself and others that you have what it takes.” Some of the notable talents who cut their teeth on the Death Tour include Edge, Christian, Rhyno, and Kenny Omega.

As Condello and his motley crew travel from town to town, they’re confronted with the grim reality of the suicide epidemic ravaging Indigenous communities.

The Death Tour is an eye-opening documentary that wonderfully captures the beauty and brutality of pro wrestling. Peterson and Ballantyne never get too into the weeds regarding the rules and mechanics of putting on a match. Instead, they focus on the day-to-day life of folks striving to make it in the business. Nothing encapsulates the indie wrestling experience better than watching men and women beating and bludgeoning each other night after night in front of 20 people inside some small-town gym. It’s technically a life in show business, with all the hustle and almost none of the glamour.

There are moments when the wrestlers perform in front of a raucous crowd. You see them feeding off the energy in the room and it’s easy to get the appeal. Who wouldn’t want to walk to the ring and see kids’ faces light up brighter than the Las Vegas strip?

The film profiles a handful of the wrestlers, sharing just enough backstory for viewers to have a rooting interest in their journeys. There’s Dez Loreen “The Eskimofo,” who struggles with imposter syndrome as he steps into the ring with veteran talent. Sarah McNicoll is a vet technician by day, but inside the ring, she goes by “McKenrose the Scottish Warrior,” a vicious competitor who uses her real-life relationship issues as fuel to pummel her in-ring opponent.

Sean Dunster aka “Massive Damage” is a past-his-prime veteran whose body is breaking down. He mentors the new talent with an eye towards landing one more shot at a mainstream wrestling promotion. And then there’s Sage Morin, who overcame the loss of her child to become the Death Tour’s Cody Rhodes. As the charismatic babyface The Matriarch, she wrestles to set a positive example for Indigenous youth.

My main gripe with The Death Tour is that it clocks in at a svelte 89 minutes. It leaves some juicy narrative meat on its bones, and I would happily sit through another 30 minutes if it meant digging deeper into the material.

I wanted to hear more about the wrestlers’ long-term plans — how long will they keep chasing this unlikely dream and how many Death Tours do they have left in them? I was also curious to learn more about Tony Condello, who, at times comes across like an exasperated Kermit running The Muppet Show. The doc treats him like a living legend but it doesn’t delve deep enough into his backstory.

Most importantly, this film could have benefitted from spending more time with the fans attending these shows. The film discusses how isolation is a huge challenge in remote communities that don’t have many entertainment options. I wanted to hear directly from the people rallying together at these wrestling events.

The wrestlers in The Death Tour may never headline Wrestlemania but the film shows us how fame and celebrity aren’t the only markers of a successful career — it’s also about the lives touched and spirits lifted when it’s needed most. Wrestlers like Eskimofo and The Matriarch put their bodies on the line to give people a momentary escape from their struggles. Their backdrops and bodyslams tear each other apart while bringing grief-stricken communities together.

The Death Tour is currently screening in select theatres across Canada and will stream on CBC Gem starting on August 23.