Andy Kaufman was his own brand of genius, and his particular style of nonsense is on display, for good and ill, in this often overlooked gem of an indie film. It's gross, over the top, and as always Andy has fun making you guess whether what you're seeing is real or an elaborate gag for the camera (hint: that's his longtime co-conspirator Bob Zmuda sitting behind him for much of the film, and later getting rather nosey).
And then there is Blassie, one of the superstars of old time wrestling. We hope he's goofing for the camera too but some of his coarse comments seems to be coming from the heart. He reveals himself -- as a sexist clod, as a seasoned world traveler, as a garrulous guy who has played a ridiculous role all his life and loved every minute of it -- in a hundred little ways in this movie, as when he admits that he loves to kill time wandering through hardware stores, never actually buying anything, just "picking stuff up and playing with it." The hand towel gag may be over the top but it sure looks like it has roots in some personal issues for Freddie -- maybe even compulsions -- about keeping his hands clean. Check out his spotless fingernails.
I saw Freddie wrestle in the Garden when I was a kid, cheered my head off when Bruno Sammartino made him submit with a bearhug, and watched him on UHF TV in New York many times, and I always suspected he was a smart man behind all the wrestling BS. This proves it, and also gives a lot of insight into the good and bad aspects of his character. All in all, I wish I'd eaten breakfast with him too. (Especially if he paid!)
