Clues that James Long, making his theatrical debut as a wrestler in the Pulitzer-nominated drama“The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity,” is in fact a real-life wrestler:

His hair is tied in a Samurai topknot.

The Speedo he’s wearing (in combination with tall black boots) has less fabric than a handkerchief.

His promotional skills are highly honed: The banter and preening quickly hit a comic overdrive.

“I’m embarrassed,” Long deadpans, striking macho poses for a photographer as the show’s cast and crew, scattered around the otherwise empty Woolly Mammoth theater (where performances begin Monday), guffaw and crack jokes.

“Looks like Jimmy’s done this before,” “Deity” director John Vreeke jabs from the side of the room.

But the proof positive comes in the ring that is a key feature of designer Misha Kachman’s set. In a demonstration of the show’s wrestling scenes, Long and Shawn T. Andrew — playing the play’s idolized black champion Chad Deity (and yes, race and ethnicity become themes in Kristoffer Diaz’s pointed satire of the stereotype-heavy wrestling and post-9/11 American life) strut inside the ropes and bash each other.

It’s the standard fakery: a forearm to the shoulder blades induces an earthquake tremor through the whole body. A fall to the canvas comes with an agonized fist slamming the floor, which echoes like thunder to make the hit seem harder.

But when Andrew flings Long against the ropes, Long rebounds like a handball and gets clotheslined. He’s airborne; he lands on his back. Then the burly Andrew hoists the trim Long over his head — yes, he does — and drops Long to the canvas in the move known as the Power Bomb.

Can’t fake that. And that’s the goal of Long and fight choreographer Joe Isenberg: to make the ring encounters in “Chad Deity” as authentic as possible.

“When you’re doing the Power Bomb,” Isenberg says, “you need to allow gravity and the fall to just do their thing.”

“Everything’s so physical,” says Long, who plays a string of palookas in the show and is helping Isenberg with the holds and slams. “That’s why this play is going to be so exciting. My goal coming in was to have the most physical version of this play that’s been done. Joe was down, and the guys were so open. I’m so thankful for that.”

Bringing a SmackDown ethos into the theater isn’t all about excitement, though. Apparently, it’s also about safety. The wrestling demo was introduced with the announcement that if anything went wrong, the “stop” signal would be both arms held up in an “X” position. But generally, the cautious Step, Step, Grip, Turn, Grapple, Release minuet of so much stage combat — geared, of course, to prevent actors from being injured — is being brushed aside for the gruff body lingo of the pro ring.

Isenberg, an actor and fight choreographer who had funding through a Kennedy Center program to observe the Louisville “Chad Deity” production, says, “To do professional wrestling with stage combat kind of sprinkled in to make it more safe makes it so much more dangerous.”