A 1997 episode of SABC 3's Point Blank with Patricia Glyn, covering the busiest South African independent in the 90s, All Stars Wrestling (not to be confused with the promotion of the same name in the United Kingdom), which may also have been the most instrumental in driving modern South African wrestling to what it is at present. All Stars played an integral role in the fate of many of this generation's South African wrestlers and promoters.
All Stars was run by Paul Lloyd Sr., the father of current WWE high-flier Justin Gabriel. In another redundant investigation into the legitimacy of the performance art that is professional wrestling, journalist Patricia Glyn tries to delve into the secrets of pro wrestling and gets a rare glimpse backstage, interviewing Paul Lloyd, Dirty Angel, Danie Voges, Danie Brits, Prince of Africa, and others.
At this point, All Stars Wrestling - in fact, South African wrestling in general - was past its prime, as attendance records showed. Following the late 1980s, South African wrestling harkened in a "cartoon era" of sorts, influenced by the American mainstream, which inept promoters sought to capitalise on. After the mid-1990s, the scene saw a major decline in quality. "Rofstoei" is still recovering, not only from the awful direction it was taken in but the later departures of Paul Lloyd, Jr. and Ray Leppan (both of whom started off under the All Star Wrestling umbrella).
All Stars Wrestling would collapse in 99 following the shocking love triangle-related murder of Paul Lloyd Sr., however an offshoot would be created in the form of International Wrestling Federation, which was steered for a few years by Steve Debbes aka Tornado II, until it was absorbed into the currently-running World Wrestling Professionals promotion; Prince of Africa would pass away a few years later; Voges, Brits and Angel would retire around the same period, before Brits made a short-lasting return in 2006, 2007 and 2012; and "The French Monster" Terri Middoux, father of Zizou Middoux, is still active.
Documentary presented in all its intriguing cheesiness, clocking in at 20 minutes. It's also indicative of what South Africa, as a formerly segregated country, was going through post-94. During one scene in the documentary, the Prince of Africa, a native of Zimbabwe, talks about what it's like to wrestle in front of crowds whose regions are pro-AWB (a right-wing supremacist group), and this short interview makes for perhaps the most enlightening part of the entire self-parodying documentary.