The Man in Blak

This has got to be a joke, like "ah ha ha, the booking for this angle has been so bad that this can be the only possible motivation for moving forward with it," right? Surely, this is a crappy Bryan joke that Dave is just referencing every once in a while because he has a weird sense of humor. (...I really hope that's what it is.)

While I agree with this, I also understand the idea that they have to tap the brake pedal on Brock a little bit, if only because there really isn't anywhere for him to go from an in-ring standpoint (except for a rematch with Reigns, of course) if they keep escalating things. What can Lesnar do with Kofi Kingston to top taking Cena to Suplex City sixteen times, short of pulling off a Mortal Kombat fatality? The bigger question, I think, is "why do you book this match in the first place?" Which isn't really Lesnar's fault, so it's probably better suited for the show thread. (Though maybe a better line of discussion for this thread would be how much WWE's handling of Brock enhances his post-UFC performances and how much credit, if any, Brock should get for that as far as his work is concerned.)

What was so special about the Kofi squash? He no-sold a couple of moves, then he hit Kofi with a couple of Germans and an F5. The post-match beatdown with New Day was standard stuff. What am I missing?

I've been going through a similar run through Cena's body of work and the Cena/Umaga LMS is the only one so far that has come close to great match territory to me. That finish, though...

Super-delayed response here, so I apologize: Am I anti-art for thinking that sounds like a boring rip-off? maybe, maybe not. you can't really tell just from one opinion! what this *does* tell me, though, is that you aren't the intended audience for the game. i know plenty of queer people who have said this game hit them on a level that virtually no other video game, and few other creative works, ever have. a lot of modern indie games are speaking to audiences that have been ignored for ages by popular media. gone home is actually *less* overt about this than some of the other notable games that it gets grouped with; look up dys4ia sometime and you should see what i mean. BTW The Man In Blak, you aren't "a man in black" of anti-gater fame, right? anyway, great post - it's rad as heck to see someone in that field on here! I think an important part of a critical (and, really, a consumer) mindset is acknowledging that there are aspects of whatever you're looking at -- pro wrestling, video games, whatever -- that are going to be in genres or flavors that you just plain don't like as much as others. It's not just okay to have preferences; it's unavoidable. That's not to say that you absolutely have to wash your hands of any thoughtful analysis and just go with what you feel like, though. As a critic, I see these blindspots as opportunities to become more familiar with what I don't like; I try to understand why someone else might like it (and, often times, end up turning around and liking it myself anyway). As a consumer, I come at it from the other side: I recognize that not everything, even critically acclaimed works, are going to be things that I automatically love or appreciate. (Though, if a critic's doing their job well, their recommendations should either have a better shot than most.) And I recognize that I'm not obligated to always consume culturally meaningful stuff. This isn't being objective as much as it's being "fair" (as Loss said earlier) or, from a critic's standpoint, being rigorous. If I like or don't like something, I want to think really hard about why that's the case. And, as a critic, my "job" is to expose and elaborate on that process so that consumers might be able to understand if they would like or not like something as well. For me, the rating (while still useful) is far less important than: 1) how you arrive at that rating (the process) 2) an acknowledgment that being rigorous and thoughtful in your analysis doesn't mean you're objective or even authoritative. Presumption is an easy hole to fall into as a critic. (Also, no, I'm not A Man in Black, but we've chatted a few times on Twitter; he's good people. This is just an old wrestling forum nickname/handle that's probably long overdue for retirement.)

I still don't follow why a wrestler saying that they only work for money has any bearing on this argument. Are you saying that money cannot be a motivating factor for producing "real" art? There's a long history of commissioned public art that would stand in opposition to that idea. Are you saying that working for money reveals that the wrestler has no intention of creating art and, thus, their matches can't be art? Setting aside that there's an entire school of thought that interprets art outside of authorial intent anyway, I would ask this: does calling something an "artform" require that every performance of that form be artful and/or highly intentioned? Nobody questions that music is an artform because there are cover bands out there performing other people's hits for money. Nobody questions that movies are an artform because there are people that make smut films for money (to hint back to another point from earlier). What makes pro wrestling any different than these situations?

Susan Sontag was a real ring general.

Not sure this holds. You can just as well say: "Some porn is art, but not all porn is art. Porn that is art fulfills criteria X." There's no need for the absolutism of the "if, then" statement. The earlier statement was that Wrestling Is Art. That statement gives the impression that All Wrestling Is Art, not just the stuff we think is *****+++ classics. Drawing on that paralell, it's not just that The Devil In Mrs. Jones Is Art, but that All Porn Is Art, including MILF Hunter. My point has never been that there are times when pro wrestling has artistic elements, nor that there's certainly some porn that has as well. It's just that if one wants to the world of pro wrestling is an art world, then we can apply that to the vast world of porn. I think you're fixating on the idea of "Art" in this case as high art, which is fine, but it's a different definition than what I presented in my post. I added the link to the New Statesman piece to try and imply that it's not an out-of-left-field discussion -- it is something that has been talked about in mainstream media -- but that piece does actually come to different conclusions about Art with a capital A that I don't agree with, so I probably should have skipped the link altogether or clarified my position further.

I think the way I prefer to describe it is that wrestling is an artform (or, even better, an aesthetic form), but not necessarily Art with a capital A (or, in other words, high art). That goes for pretty much everything that involves creativity: architecture, porn, video games. Form in wrestling is the rules and the overall conceit of competition (even if its secondary to the issue that actually led to the match). Content in wrestling is how the performers drive a particular performance within those rules to a end state and, in the process, tell a story. The stories can be simplistic or they can have layers and allusions to narratives in and out of the ring...but they're still stories.

(Disclaimer: this post is long and a bit digressive, but I think there are some useful parallels to the discussion at hand and I do try to tie things back to wrestling wherever I can. Apologies if this strays too far afield.) I was just about to drop in here with the comparison to what's currently going on in video games, since there is a very loud segment of critics in that field that are pushing back against any sort of scores/ratings whatsoever. One of the big points of contention there is exactly the one that was raised in this thread earlier - tons of readers just scroll down to see the score and those scores can often leave readers with an overly reductive view of a game (the score) that doesn't ultimately reflect all of the nuances provided by the critic's impressions and assessments in the actual review. Part of that problem in a game review is effective editing -- maybe people are conditioned to scroll to the end because game reviews have generally offered utterly terrible writing and critique for decades -- but another significant part of that is that the audience usually just wants something new to consume, so the score has more utility to that end goal than reading through and considering a long, thoughtful critique. (And we can jump down a whole new rabbit hole for review vs. critique there as well.) That "drive to consume" is a part of wrestling or any other entertainment medium, especially in the information age where so much (ugh) content is available to a consumer and, thus, figuring out what to consume becomes a more pertinent concern. Ultimately, I am personally fine with ratings/scores. In some ways, I think the runaway popularity of the snowflake system in wrestling makes things easier than in video games, I think, because quibbling over scoring systems is minimized in comparison. (Though, obviously, this thread is an exception to that.) As someone who has written game reviews, I understand why some reviewers object to score, but I appreciate them as a tool to refine my thinking about a game; they enforce an element of comparison that makes me think about the game in a larger cultural context and I think that's useful. Where scores go off the rails for me is when both critics and audience treat them as some sort of objective or timeless measure. True objectivity in media criticism is a myth; even the criteria for desirability that one can choose for an "objective" measure are based upon subjective preferences. Using those criteria as a part of a critical exercise that results in a numerical rating doesn't remove subjectivity from the equation and, as critics, I think it's our job to communicate that subjectivity to the audience and make it clear, regardless of the medium. Gone Home was a perfect flashpoint for the cultural problems in video games because so much of the audience in gaming -- which, to be frank, is collectively about as uncritical and obsequious to the industry as you can get -- has been trained over years to see product-focused aspects like game length as being more important, much in the same way that some folks in wrestling have been conditioned to see "movez" or match length as an conclusive indicator of quality. (Insert Charles's joke about Hulk Hogan earning an extra star by using a Burning Hammer here.) Some of that comes from long-outdated vestiges of video game history: video games being equated to toys or software, rather than actual aesthetic works. Some of it comes a highly effective marketing machine from game publishers that many gaming media outlets don't see fit to challenge or interrogate in any substantial way. Wherever it comes from, it lingers over everything when a small-but-brilliant indie game like Gone Home gets recognized by some critics for actively pushing against most of those vestigial norms of what makes a good video game and, as a result, some overly-traditional segments of the audience freak out. In my eyes, the closest comparison in wrestling to the Gone Home situation would be recognizing someone like Regal as one of the best wrestlers in the world. Regal was never a "company ace" -- he himself admits that he was never a draw or a main event player in any substantial way -- but there are multiple threads here on this forum and elsewhere that have dissected his matches and found all sorts of fantastic touches to his work, some of which wouldn't actually play well in a main event context, but are absolutely perfect for his role on the card. Is it blasphemous to suggest that William Regal is one of the greatest 100, 50, or even 30 wrestlers of all time? The GWE project will bear that out, I guess, though I can guarantee you that he will be on my list. Would it have been blasphemous to suggest that twenty years ago? Our criteria for critically assessing performers or works in media evolve all the time. There are some elements to our critical discussion that will always remain the same -- it is difficult for me to imagine a world where Flair/Steamboat at Chi-town Rumble isn't recognized as a classic -- but, ultimately, everything is always up for reconsideration, so I think it's important to recognize that both matches/works and their reviews are products of their time. As long as we're doing that and we're also keeping in mind that the method behind the math is ultimately a subjective one, then I think ratings can be useful.

I think Dylan and others have also raised the point that Cena has had a LOT more exposure and TV time than other long-term WWE aces, so he's arguably faced more pressure to adapt (and for longer) than someone like Hogan.

I see this as a byproduct of the style - when finishers seem to be the only thing that consistently drive these sorts of matches to a conclusion, then the early nearfalls start to become transparent as recovery/rest points, rather than actual teases to a finish. (The thrill of watching Owens or Cena sit around for what feels like a solid minute with a Very Frustrated look on their face after a nearfall.) It starts to feel a little bit like wasted time. As for the now-apparently-infamous Code Red, I've seen the match and I think the difficulty here is separating out the story of the match (Cena brings a new gameplan to the rematch) from the "flavor" of the match (the PWG-ish finisher spamming, movez with a Z to signify movez for the sake of movez). The story is solid, both in concept and in the structure of the match; I think the quibbling here comes from how that story is delivered in practice because there are many different ways to tell that story and this particular delivery of it isn't necessarily compelling. The Code Red sticks out because that move specifically sort of typifies a negative stereotype of indie wrestling being ostentatious, an idea that this style of wrestling is more concerned with the sizzle than the steak. It's a convoluted move when it is done like it is in this match, with Owens "struggling" (or recovering from a botch) and then, dipsy-doo dunkaroo, magically falling over for the nearfall. It fits the story of the match. I would say that it not only fits the flavor of this match, but the flavor of the previous match. My problem is that I'm not really a huge fan of this style/flavor/whatever and the Code Red exemplifies my objections and concerns with it. I understand that's not going to be the case for everybody and that's cool but, for me, it's distracting in a way that makes the story of the match seem more like an excuse than an enhancing part of the performance.

For what it's worth, this is why I said I'd like to see it in the context of the match. I think there's still room to discuss how well the move matches with the storyline presented, but context obviously matters here.

I think he pulls it off pretty good here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uD82zdsbMl0 I will concede that I hadn't seen that match and that is definitely his best execution of the move that I've ever seen. I do still think the move itself still looks like a churched-up sunset flip, though, especially when it's done from a standing position. (My "favorite" variant is when it's done off of a pescado and I could definitely see that variant being a okay-ish transition into a comeback.) This isn't even getting into how Cena performed the move... I want to see it in the context of the match but, in isolation, that doesn't look great.

1. Does Heyman's tenure as the lead writer for Smackdown earn him any credit here? 2. How much of the "damage" caused by ECW should actually be laid at the feet of Memphis?

I haven't been able to watch the show yet, due to a family engagement last night, but I think the idea of Cena pulling out a new move in the rematch (to demonstrate some growth or extra training) is a nice bit of storytelling in the abstract. I don't know if the Code Red is a great choice for that move, though. Yeah, and as much as I like Goldust, I've never seen him pull it off smoothly.

I haven't rewatched any of this period for Austin but, working from my impressions at the time, Austin (and the WWF) came off the rails early in 2002. He had an okay-ish match with Jericho at No Way Out 2002 that ended with an nWo beatdown (which made both Austin and Jericho look bad), which he followed with his worst-ever Wrestlemania match against Scott Hall at WM18 and a dreadful match against Undertaker at Backlash. I didn't see the Judgment Day match against Big Show and Flair, though that sounds like a potential disaster. After that, Austin "takes his ball and goes home" amidst a whirlwind of political bullshit, has the domestic abuse incident with Debra, and is effectively off the radar until he comes back for No Way Out 2003 to squash Bischoff in five minutes. Even if the Flair/Show handicap match is some kind of hidden gem, this is a pretty bad run for Austin.

Outside of the beeping and some other minor production quibbles, Flair's podcast has been a pleasant surprise. I figured every episode would go like the Angle interview but, other than some of the "cordiality" with Bret, the rest of them have been pretty good.

He'd probably have as much success as Bret Hart did against Hogan in the WWF.

Ross's Terry Funk impression is bad enough, but his Stu Hart impression is on a whole 'nother level. On a scale of 1 to Johnny Sorrow, it could slip into the negatives.

Because, and forgive me for confusing the words here, but they can plan out anything they want in the back, he still needs to execute it in the ring. Otherwise all WWE main events and main event workers would be equal, which they clearly aren't. Plus, Savage planned out his matches, and etc and etc. All modern WWE main events may not not equal, but aren't they normalized into a similar shape and flow? JvK (Parv, right?) mentioned his dislike of the style and others have criticized it more broadly in and outside this forum, have they not? Is Cena that much farther ahead than, say, post-comeback Shawn Michaels or pre-comeback The Rock as workers of that style? Also, as far as Savage goes, we know that he worked with his opponent to develop the script for their match. (And drove them up the wall in the process, if the stories are to be believed.) Do we have any indication of how much input Cena has in his matches?

Here's a broader question with regards to Cena: if his strong suit really is symbolism, rather than execution, then how much credit goes to Cena versus the writing/production team that meticulously plot out the sequences and structures in WWE matches? I get what you mean about Owen's appearance later on in the night being distinct from Bret/Owen itself, but I don't know if it's completely removed from the match's context; the WMX title bracket and the non-advancement stip for Owen sort of foreshadow the possibility of Bret celebrating a championship win after a loss to Owen. Just for the sake of direct comparison, would you consider Orton's MITB cash-in to be distinct and separate from Cena/Bryan as well?

From what I've seen of Cena so far, I will say that I did really like the Umaga match. (I didn't love it, primarily because of the finish, but that's not John Cena's fault.) I was definitely irked by the Michaels match, though, so I would love to hear the rationale for that. The Bryan match is good too, but I would need to hear a very compelling argument to put it in the same ballpark as Bret/Owen. Maybe that match comparison thread is a good idea after all. I think this (and the whole post, for that matter) does a really good job of lining out their differences. I agree that it's a weird comparison: it's sort of like comparing the best possible Dean Malenko to the best possible Hulk Hogan. The approaches are so different.

I dunno about this. Bret built up a mythos around himself that he was a working class guy in a world of seven foot giants and four hundred pound monsters who overcame the odds because he was the best at what he did; the Wayne Gretsky of wrestling that the coal miners and the lumberjacks could relate to. And the thing was that he believed it. That's what made his heel turn so brilliant because blurred the lines between scripted TV and his legit bitterness. The problem is that he wasn't that gifted a performer in terms of charisma or projecting a presence, which means even the big title wins are more downbeat than you'd expect from a truly beloved performer. He was popular and had a following, but when Austin and Rock came along they eclipsed him in terms of star presence. A lot of Bret's stuff has some nice subtlety to it even if it's a bit boring to revisit. I'm sure a Cena fan could break down his character better than I can, but I think Bret is a bit underrated when it comes to persona. So many people talk about 1997 Shawn Michaels as being one of the most hateable human beings in recent wrestling history (and for good reason), but I think 1997 Bret Hart is so much more fascinating and complicated as a character. In a way, he could have been the best possible villain for the Attitude Era (outside of Vince himself, of course) because he was still so utterly convinced that he was the hero. But I also think the lines were so blurred in and out of the ring for both Hart and Michaels that I don't know if either character was truly built to last, even without their real-life tensions and Montreal.