Sharp Shooting – Back To The East
Why do you watch professional wrestling?
That’s a loaded question. Many of the people reading this could happily write 2000 accomplished words on the subject. I ask it because if the answer resembles anything like mine, you need to watch this wrestling event at your earliest possible convenience. If, unlike me, you have the time to immerse yourself in TNA’s slow-building storylines and you’re not totally fed up with the tropes associated with most American wrestling – the constant interruptions and the homogenised and patently scripted promos, for example – this may not be the column for you.
I watch professional wrestling because I get an inimitable and indescribable buzz from watching two elite performers or teams tell a dramatic and action-packed story from opening to closing bell. Storylines and angles aren’t as important to me as the ability to suspend disbelief during a stolen 15 minutes away from the toils of work and the stress of planning a wedding. Years of watching episodic wrestling television and enduring the predictability inherent to it has had a toll on my patience, especially in the age of the global village. I’m writing this column on what Peep Show writer Jesse Armstrong describes as an “Everything Machine”. Rather than watch WWE RAW for the full three hour duration, I can instead ostensibly watch anything I want.
Why should I watch next week’s RAW, during which you can virtually guarantee Dolph Ziggler’s match will be interrupted by Alberto Del Rio, or vice versa, or both, when I can just wait for the PPV and skip ahead to the good stuff?
The good stuff, for me, is what happens between the ringing of the bell and nobody does that better than New Japan Pro Wrestling. Their golden age has lasted for so long now that I’m starting to wonder if anybody has ever done it better.
I don’t write many columns on the subject of New Japan Pro Wrestling because the company’s limited western audience stifles what I can achieve with them. I write and respond to wrestling editorials because I like to create and participate in debates. That is difficult with NJPW because not many people on LOPForums watch their product. In order to avoid alienating the reader, I’ve had to paint myself in a write-to-persuade corner, which I haven’t done since January because it was getting repetitive, frankly.
After finally getting round to watching their Dominion event from 22/06/13, I feel compelled to break the rule I’ve been adhering to for the past few months. This company deserves to be recognised on an international scale, and without aficionados like myself broadcasting their brilliance, they will struggle. Even if less than five people watch the show on the back of this review, I will consider it a success. I think you’re doing yourself a disservice as a wrestling fan if you haven’t made the leap for at least one match. I feel duty-bound to promote the product; as somebody who enjoys wrestling to the extent that you do, I think you are duty-bound to try it.
With the exception of a weapons-filled gimmick match – which you can get from WWE on a weekly basis, anyway, it would seem – Dominion 2013 had absolutely everything you’d want in terms of in-ring action.
The event was headlined by reigning International Wrestling Grand Prix champion Kazuchika Okada’s title defence against grizzled, popular veteran Togi Makabe. As much as I will lavish praise on the in-ring product, I’m also a stickler for effective presentation, and that doesn’t have to mean Kevin Dunn’s pyro fetish. Before every IWGP title match, a simple video of still images of former champions is shown. This is an incredibly effective and inexpensive technique; seeing those past masters creates an expectation of quality and significance in the minds of the fans, and simultaneously encourages the wrestlers to live up to them.
New Japan main events are a minimum of twenty minutes in length, and for the past three years or so they have consistently hit at least the **** level. The main event of Dominion, at 25:24 in length and rated ****1/2 by Dave Meltzer, was no exception. The story it told was simple, but it was executed brilliantly. Okada, the smug, precocious upstart, was challenged by the respected veteran, who did everything left in his tank to wrest the title away from him. On paper, this was a routine, stopgap defence. Nobody was predicting a Makabe win. By the 20 minute mark, however, the raucous Osaka crowd – Japan’s answer to Chicago – were astonished when Okada had kicked out of a move that isn’t even Makabe’s finisher. The story of Makabe’s drive to drill respect into Okada, which for long stretches involved slapping the shit out of him, had been so well plotted that fans allowed themselves to believe that a switch was imminent. Equally impressive is that, despite the main story thread, Okada’s victory was not incongruous. He gave as much as he got, and used the momentum and confidence he has developed as NJPW’s top dog to bag the clean win. It was, in short, a near-perfect example of the upstart vs. veteran archetype.
What was even more impressive about that match is that it successfully followed a blinding undercard. It could so easily have been upstaged.
Two of the best wrestlers in the world in Hiroshi Tanahashi – who I’d personally consider the best – and IWGP junior heavyweight champion Prince Devitt tore it up in a 15:33 match which also, with a rating of ****, approached classic territory. This would be a theme of the evening…
I’ve written about Tanahashi several times. He is the master of assembling lengthy, innovative and heated matches against any and every opponent, all the while making you believe that he might lose. Prince Devitt, for those who haven’t seen him in action, is an in-ring prodigy whose recent heel turn has helped him to create an engaging character to round out his potential as a main event heavyweight player. These two could very easily have wrestled a straight match and received a ton of acclaim and heat, but in the interests of variety and the advancement of Devitt’s heel character, we got something totally different. In his new heel role, Prince Devitt is the leader of a heel stable called the Bullet Club. Without even saying a word, he is one of the most effective heels I’ve seen in a long time – quite the achievement, given how over he was for so long in the face role. He makes his entrance on the shoulders of one of his henchmen, something I’ve not seen before, with the implication being that he’s above even walking down the aisle. The Bullet Club members are constantly interfering in his matches, which might grate if it wasn’t so entertaining. As an example, Devitt performs a spot wherein he motions to dive on his opponent on the outside, only to languidly get out of the ring on the other side following a brief run of the ropes. As the distracted referee demands that he stops being disrespectful and gets back into the ring, a Bullet Club lackey will pounce on the opponent, earning Devitt a double dose of heat in the process.
NJPW appear to be saving the inevitable 30 minute Tanahashi/Devitt barnstormer for another time, which is another benefit of their slow-build booking strategy. I personally can’t wait, and it probably won’t even happen in 2013.
The best match, which very nearly received a perfect score from Meltzer (just shy at ****3/4) was Hirooki Goto vs. Katsuyori Shibata. I love Japanese wrestling because they treat the importance of suspension of disbelief very seriously. This philosophy was encapsulated perfectly in this bout, which was stiffer than week-old bread. Shibata, like Brock Lesnar, has a successful MMA track record and is a very good pro wrestler in his own right. Goto meanwhile is the bridesmaid of NJPW in that his popularity is enduring, but he’s never won the big one. The match arrangement was typically astute of NJPW bookers Gedo and Jado. By placing Goto, who isn’t quite in the lovable loser bracket, but isn’t far off, at the mercy of Shibata’s brutal and credible strike-based offense, they ensured that the crowd was sympathetic to his plight. When Goto matched Shibata strike for strike in later exchanges, the fans went ballistic. When he lost an unbelievably intense and close MMA/pro wrestling hybrid classic, they applauded his efforts profusely. I can only imagine the reaction he’ll get when they let him win something meaningful.
NJPW is so good right now that they’re able to build support for one of its talents by jobbing them out. Somebody has to lose; why not get them over at the same time?
We’re lucky if we get one decent tag team match from a WWE PPV in 2013. On this show, we were treated to two excellent tag matches and one merely good tag match. Even more impressively, the two tag matches, which wither met or exceeded the **** level, were totally different in style. Minoru Suzuki and Shelton Benjamin vs. Shinsuke Nakamura and Tomohiro Ishii is a heel vs. heel display of aggression and violence, whereas Alex Shelley and KUSHIDA vs. Alex Kozlov and Rocky Romero is a balletic and dizzying display of forward-thinking doubles wrestling which somehow still manages to make one nostalgic for the days when tag team wrestling was afforded the same level of respect as singles.
Elsewhere, the action ranged from good to barely passable. Given that I was treated to no less than five matches on one card which either met or exceeded the Meltzer-mandated **** level, I can forgive a few misfires and disappointments, especially when one takes into account that Dominion isn’t even that major a show in the context of the NJPW calendar year. There are at least three shows which rank higher than it in the prestige stakes, and moreover, on paper at least, one could fantasy book several more appealing-looking cards than this.
I don’t speak a word of Japanese, and I’m quite certain that you don’t either. The joy of puroresu, though – and particular the consistently awesome NJPW product - is that you don’t need to in order to appreciate or understand it. The appeal is universal. The commentary is incomprehensible, but somehow, through tone and expression, you can begin to extract meaning. NJPW employs masters of the craft, who are able to sell and express their way through the language barrier. A full-force dropkick to the mush, meanwhile, can be appreciated by any discernible wrestling fan. Nationality is immaterial.
If you have the time to watch the whole event, you should. If you don’t have that many free hours, at least watch the 13:16 classic between Goto and Shibata. It typifies the good and great of puroresu; it is believable, it is dramatic, it is violent, it is unique, it is heated, and if they spoke the language, I’m sure those in the crowd would have you know: it is awesome.