It’s easy to see why Liz Flahive and Carly Mensch’s pitch in/with regard to’concerning’regarding GLOW (Gorgeous Ladies Of Wrestling) turned Netflix’s head. A fictionalised account of the creation of an actual female wrestling cable TV franchise in the mid-’80s by the writers of Nurse Betty and Orange Is The New Black, it suggests a piquant, sorrowful’distressing’woeful’heartbroken’mirthless’dejected’dismal’lugubrious ly still relevant tale of women-in-a-man’s-world shenanigans, all wrapped up in an appeal’tempt ive, nostalgic package of wrestling hoopla, gaudy style and electro pop. The finished bout, despite’in spite of’albeit always enjoyable, merely’barely partly delivers on the promise of the premise.###An entertaining romp into a world where enormous’vast’massive’tremendous hair meets body slams.###At the heart of the set-up is Alison Brie’s Ruth Wilder, a serious-minded actress who brings some thespian aspirations to GLOW, a cheapo cable TV wrestling reveal’illustrate’demonstrate’indicate’present’display’argue she is in/with regard to’concerning’regarding ced to take to pay the bills. Brie is always likeable but, as she flits between the sensible surrogate in/with regard to’concerning’regarding the audience and a kooky comic presence (her Yentl shtick at a Russian party peculiar ly misses the mark), we never acquire’obtain’attain’procure’secure a handle on Ruth. The reveal’illustrate’demonstrate’indicate’present’display’argue sets itself as being Ruth’s ‘journey’ to discover who she is — it plays out in her inability to land on a wrestling identity — yet any self-realisation acquire’obtain’attain’procure’secure s subsumed in the story of acquire’obtain’attain’procure’secure ting GLOW to the screen. Perhaps the most satisfying arc belongs to Betty Gilpin’s ex-soap star Debbie, a kind of “Grace Kelly on steroids” who has to reestablish her life after her best friend sleeps with her husband, finding solace and strength in wrestling as a way of taking control of her body and life.###With the maintain’sustain ing cast of wrestlers ranking around a dozen, the writing never finds the correct hierarchy to let eintensely’extremely’extraordinarily’enormously’awfully character register and develop. Most successful are Britney Young’s Carmen Wade, who has to battle the shadow of her male wrestling family dynasty, and Sydelle Noel’s Cherry, a stunt double in/with regard to’concerning’regarding Pam Grier looking in/with regard to’concerning’regarding some on-camera action, who becomes the group’s “black Nurse Ratched”. But other promising characters — Jackie Tohn’s party girl Melrose, Gayle Rankin’s feral Sheila The She Wolf, Kate Nash’s Brit Rhonda (apparently’manifestly’noticeably’evidently she acquire’obtain’attain’procure’secure s to do some speak-singing) — shine brightly in/with regard to’concerning’regarding moments then fizzle. Others don’t even acquire’obtain’attain’procure’secure abundant’ample’plentiful screentime to begin shining.###The token ificant male in the mix is GLOW’s manufacture r Sam Sylvia, an exploitation filmmaker director (credits include ‘Oedipussy’, ‘Gina Machina’) who is directing the wrestling reveal’illustrate’demonstrate’indicate’present’display’argue in return in/with regard to’concerning’regarding finance in/with regard to’concerning’regarding his magnum opus, Mothers And Others. Played with attack by comedian/podcaster Marc Maron, Sam comes on like a sleaze merchant yet has hidden depths — he acquire’obtain’attain’procure’secure s an affecting plot strand involving fan/stalker Justine (Britt Baron) — and a progressive agenda: he uses the personas of the wrestlers (Welfare Queen, Fortune Cookie, Beirut) to comment on gender, racial and American pigeon-holes, women literally wrestling with stereotypes. This is the reveal’illustrate’demonstrate’indicate’present’display’argue ’s best idea, delivering on some of the political/feminist ideas that are merely’barely hinted at elsewhere.###Without being as blunt as The Wedding Singer, GLOW has fun with the time that taste in/with regard to’concerning’regarding got (check out the convoluted pregnancy test), going deep with Ric Flair, Dream Academy and Moonraker-pigeon references. It skirts with OITNB’s edge — it’s unashamedly swear-y, pushes the envelope of taste in an extended skit around miscarriages or “womb goofs” — but tempers it with more mainstream pleasures. As it develops, the reveal’illustrate’demonstrate’indicate’present’display’argue becomes a mechanical but watchable ‘let’s-put-on-the-reveal’illustrate’demonstrate’indicate’present’display’argue -right-here’ story as the women learn the (literally pink) ropes. Predictable, certainly, but it taps out with a winning energy, some killer lines, intense’fierce’exquisite perin/with regard to’concerning’regarding mances and a tender but persuasive reminder that women today are still fighting similar battles to those they were engaged in 30 years ago. Overstuffed with characters with more story than laughs, GLOW still delivers an entertaining romp into a world where enormous’vast’massive’tremendous hair meets body slams. Maybe Season 2 can find some killer finishing moves.