This has been a pretty grim and dour read, if I’m being completely honest. It can be easy to forget that, at the end of the day, wrestling –like movies– is for the dreamers. You can get jaded and cynical, but sometimes the right combination of earnestness, sincerity, and passion will remind you exactly why you started watching this ridiculous thing in the first place.

Wrestling is a lot like a Neil Diamond tribute band. You might hate “Sweet Caroline” deep in your bones, and think that the lead singer looks ridiculous trying to conjure the ghost of a man who is still alive, but you can’t deny the artistry or the passion.

Yes, “Song Sung Blue” is a kind of ridiculous, manipulative movie, but damned if it doesn’t scratch that same corny, high-fructose itch that good wrestling usually does. Carny dreamers in ridiculous outfits, fighting backstage over time and gimmicks. 

If Marty Mauser is who most wrestlers are behind the scenes, Lightning & Thunder are what every wrestler aspires to be when the lights are on: Someone who can make even an ardent Neil Diamond hater like me sing along to “Soolaimon.”