On August 3rd, 2020, I deleted the video “Kenny Omega vs. Kazuchika Okada: Making Every Second Count” from my YouTube channel as a precaution against copyright strikes. The script as I have it archived is now here below.
1: 46:45
2: 60:00
3: 24:40
4: 64:50
3:16:15
*title sequence*
With over 3 hours of wrestling action between four different matches, Kazuchika Okada and Kenny Omega have brought longform pro wrestling back to the forefront of the discussion. But just how effectively do Okada and Omega utilize the large amounts of time given to them for their matches. We know that they put together some of the most breathtaking and exciting finishing stretches of any wrestlers working today. So instead, let’s look at the most often forgotten part of a match: the opening sequences.
As significant as a hot and nailbiting finishing stretch is, the opening half of a match often dictates the pace of the majority of the match. Without a seamless escalation of pace, action, and stakes, a tacked on set of nearfalls feels superfluous. Exciting, but in the end, hollow.
Take Okada and Omega’s first match in the Tokyo Dome. The story of the match as a whole, and of the larger series, is that if Kenny Omega can just hit the One Winged Angel on Okada, he can beat the champion. A simple enough story. But did they work a match that could sustain this story for 45 minutes?
Personally, I find that this is the worst of their matches for a real simple reason. Can you actually tell me what happens in the first 20 minutes of this match? Specifically, were there any story beats being told in the first 20 minutes that significantly affected how the last half of the match played out. Omega does little to set up the One Winged Angel in this opening, instead engaging in a standard back and forth exchange of offense with Okada. In fact, if I had to summarize the first half of the Tokyo Dome match, it would probably come down to Okada does some moves, then Omega does some moves. So and so on.
The plot of the match doesn’t actually take a turn until Omega gets sent through the table at which point both men go into their desperate finishing stretch which they excel at. When nearly a majority of your match doesn’t actually matter to the story of the match. You’ve got a problem.
Five months later, inside Osaka-Jo Hall, Omega and Okada had the burden of setting up something far more ambitious: a sixty-minute time limit draw. Okada and Omega try to strengthen the opening half of this match by upping the intensity of the pace which is appreciated. Perhaps the best addition would be Okada hurting his leg after a dive to the outside which leads to a solid stretch of Omega going after the injured limb. His attack is focused and brutal, making us think he’s found the weakness of the champion.
Too bad Okada completely forgets about this immediately. He still runs at the same speed. He still hits the same moves. By the end of the match, he’s hitting his dropkick as perfectly and as often as if nothing ever happened. That time spent working over the leg? Pointless. Time entirely wasted.
Later on in the match, Omega finally hits the One Winged Angel that he just couldn’t nail in the first. But Okada’s feet are on the ropes. The match has nothing left to build to. Both men just take turns countering each other’s finishers before we crawl slowly, desperately towards that sixty minute finish. While I find this second match to be objectively better than the first because of some of the great individual spots they do, the layout itself is far more scattered and wasteful than the first.
And then, a miracle in four words: thirty minute time limit.
This third match is gorgeous. I have literally zero complaints. Story wise, it’s simple. They only have 30 minutes to play with as are the rules of the G1 Climax, so there’s no time to fuck around. And they do NOT fuck around. Every moment is filled with action, suspense, and drama as Omega tries to take any opening possible to finally take down the weakened and vulnerable champion.
The layout is simple too. After going back and forth for the early part of the match, Omega grabs the advantage by hitting a Reverse Rana on to the floor, seriously damaging Okada’s neck. This changes the entire complexion of the match as Omega has significantly weakened the part of the body most damaged by the One Winged Angel. The tension and excitement rise and rise until finally, Omega hits it flush in the middle of the ring. Perfect.
Sometimes less truly is so much more.
In their fourth and most recent match, Okada and Omega again went the maximalist route, working a 64 minute ⅔ Falls match in Osaka-Jo Hall building to Omega’s finally winning the IWGP Heavyweight Title. While the first few minutes of the match suffer from the same sense of unimportance, the struggle between both men is heightened and it builds to significant plot points for the rest of the match. Halfway through the first fall, Omega gets sent into the barricades with a shotgun dropkick which damages his ribs and restricts him for the rest of the match. Okada ends the first fall with a simple pinning cradle, thus establishing a beautiful false finish in the second fall.
So while Okada-Omega IV’s opening remains somewhat bloated there’s a lot of relevance going on early in the match that pays off later on. An effective foundation for what is an ambitious and eventually successful athletic display.
Unfortunately, it seems that matches like the Okada-Omega ones have created a trend in New Japan at least that main events MUST go beyond thirty minutes. None of the IWGP Heavyweight Title matches of 2018 have gone under half an hour which is a shame. Now, the longer bouts feel more like a requirement and stylistic choice as opposed to a proper simulation of an athletic contest. Sticking to this 30 minute rule only serves to damage the crowd’s reactions to matches like this since there’s hardly ever any threat that the match will end before 15 or 20 minutes in. You’re basically self-imposing a ten or so opening period of a match where pretty much nothing is happening and nothing is expected to happen either.
And of course, this doesn’t mean that long matches are bad. Like I said, I loved the 64-minute Dominion match. But it has to be done right. The match has to be laid out carefully and properly, keeping a consistent and engaging plot all the way through. Wrestling always works best when every second counts.
