This review was commissioned by Coop C over on my Ko-fi account.
Sick as fuck.
The honest to God truth is that this isn’t a particularly complex match. I’m not going to sit here and talk anyone’s ears off about strategic shifts and transition points and long-term limb selling, because that’s not what anyone is coming to this match for. As a sort of greatest hits (in the most literal sense) of this particular match series, people come to watch Mike Awesome and Masato Tanaka attempt to inflict grotesque lasting brain damage to each other, move around with an agility that feels wrong for two dudes as large as they are, but mostly the brain damage part.
This match delivers so much on its promise. There’s no wasted motion, no gestures at any sort of grand design. They just start hitting each other, brawling on the outside, and pulling out all the plunder to immediately to the good shit. And what’s worth noting here is that the good shit is so much better than other attempts at similar things. It’s not just that they’re cutting straight to the most exciting action possible, but that the action itself works so extremely well. Awesome and Tanaka achieve this with sheer, hard-headed commitment to the physicality of it all. When they swing a chair, there’s no indication of hesitation, cooperation, or any of it. It’s just pure “Fuck you, die!” energy, matched only by the tasteless comments of Joey Styles at ringside.
Again, sick as all hell.
It’s the kind of full bore dedication that allows one to look past other potential flaws in this. It is not a cleverly constructed thing, there are questionable choices in selling that might drive me crazy if it happened in a different match. But there’s no time for questions when someone’s getting Awesome Bombed off the top rope through the remains of a broken table where sharp metal rods threaten to potentially impale someone landing just a few inches off. Awesome and Tanaka, through the intensity of their work bash critical thought straight out of your skull. It is a rewarding experience especially because one feels the sacrifice of their physical work right through the screen.
If one squints, the hints of a larger story can be seen here as well. It very much feels like a desperate Awesome trying to put down an unkillable foe. Notably, it’s Tanaka that gets the most intentional no selling here, or at least the kind of no selling that’s purposeful in its deployment. Tanaka is cast as our hero here, withstanding a barrage from a traitor’s blows, and holding his ground. That brings out a level of aggression from Awesome that only escalates throughout the match. It also adds a tangible sense of desperation to the closing moments—not only trusting the strength of the Awesome Bomb to the floor and through the table, but also diving in for that final tope to finally get the win.
One of the most instantly enjoyable matches of all time, and an easy summary of the Awesome/Tanaka dynamic.
Rating: ****
