This review was commissioned by Nolan over on my Ko-fi account.
Time flattens memory. Even with something like this match, commonly referred to as one of the greatest WrestleMania main events of all time, sometimes only the obvious remains. In this case, what most obviously stand is probably the inception of Suplex City as a verbalized trademark of Brock Lesnar’s in-ring act. There have been so many matches since built around a flatter idea of what this implies about Brock–that it’s just German after German after German until a brief comeback gets snuffed out. From a distance, those lesser efforts from Brock (though many of them still fucking great) share a lot of resemblance to this particular bout. But the relative complacency of the future shouldn’t take away from the richness of the past. This match from 2015 is a layered and detailed wonder of a thing, something that gets lost in the discussion even among its fans.
Just seconds into the match, Roman Reigns is able to cut Brock Lesnar’s cheek after an early barrage of punches.
Do you remember this detail from the match? I certainly didn’t before coming back to it. But it informs so much of what follows. Reigns’ early attack being so energetic and violent gives gravity to why Lesnar goes to the F5 so early here. It’s an almost panicked response to Reigns’ energy that forces Lesnar to go to his biggest killshot to shut down the challenger. Pay even closer attention one can read that Lesnar doesn’t go immediately for the pin after the F5 specifically out of spite. The first thing he does after popping up from the F5 is feel at his face, notice and process the blood on his cheek. A decision is made there, to not only win here but to punish.
Again, that early blood on the cheek, unintentional as it may be, tells a real simple story here. Reigns is in for the fight of his life, but it’s not an unwinnable fight by any means. He has a steep mountain to climb, but there’s an incline nevertheless. Brock’s only human.
What follows is a lengthy control segment from Brock Lesnar, in the style of most of his late 2010s WWE main events. Suplex City gets born here as I mentioned. But what gets lost in the genesis of that particular legend is just how varied and interesting the control segment here is compared to other Lesnar main events down the line. For one, the suplexes themselves aren’t nearly as one-note as they could become. It’s not just German after German here, there’s a deeper arsenal than one might imagine. In fact, when Brock first says “Suplex City,” it’s not even after hitting a German suplex. He says it after nailing a real crunchy, King’s Road-style backdrop.
The space in between the suplexes is real significant too. In fact, much more of the match is built around Lesnar using his knees as a debilitating force against Reigns. He drives them into the ribs, and uses them to stunt Roman when they’re both on their feet.
The heat is also not an uninterrupted bombarding either. Reigns puts in a textbook Steamboat rule performance here, always making these tiny but incrementally more effective comebacks throughout the heat. At first, he even fixates on the blood on Brock’s face, punching and elbowing at it to try to make headway before getting dropped. Later on, when the fight gets taken to the apron, Reigns hits his own really sick knee to Brock’s face. It’s a blow that angers the champion enough to invite a gruesome lariat that knocks Roman right to the floor.
Those little comebacks likely get forgotten because of the fact very few people watching this actively rooted for Roman. But separated from the heat of 2015’s indignation of Bryan getting passed over and the dullness of the TV build for this match, plus the additional context of the worst allegations levied at Lesnar in the time since, there’s a lot more room to appreciate what Roman brings to the table here. The performance was always great, and one I genuinely admired, but with time, his babyface work here really shines a lot clearer. For one, he’s selling his fucking ass off. Not just laying dead from each beating, really being expressive with both body and face to put over the brutality of it all. There’s an emotional arc to be found there too. He quite famously starts laughing in the face of it all, and I can’t help but find some real significance in that all these years later. It’s Foley-esque even, responding to this most violent of beatings with just a laugh.
Roman’s confidence builds too, along with his defiance. What starts as just a chuckle at the cruelty of it all, starts to calcify into genuine spite. When he kicks out of an F5 and Lesnar strips the gloves off to make skin-on-skin contact to slap the shit out of Roman, the challenger invites the beating. It’s a growing sense that he’s flummoxing the champion, making Lesnar work harder than he likely expected to have to.
And the match gets so close to rewarding that growing confidence too.
Again, it’s forgotten because of how strong anti-Roman sentiment was at the time, but that final rally is a wonder. Firstly, the smoothness of the ringpost bump from Lesnar. I played it back a few times, and I still can’t tell if he just hardway headbutts himself open on the post or if he gets the hand up just in time to sneakily blade himself. Either way, it feels massive when it does happen. And Lesnar puts his fucking all into that moment as well. The staggered selling in the ring, the clearer sense of mortality now as he’s leaking blood, and Roman laying his shots in for the kill. It’s so fucking good, and in a perfect world, leads to our hero getting the big win after chipping away at an impossible monster.
Then Seth.
Even with how I’ve soured on Seth with time, there’s no denying the cleverness of it. It’s a new wrinkle that most fans probably never even considered as a possibility–a mid-match cash in that essentially changes the rules of the bout to make it a triple threat. For what it is, the massive pop is well-earned and the twist is played well. Seth escapes an F5, and Roman deals the final killing blow that neutralizes Lesnar before Seth puts his former Shield-mate down for the three count and the victory.
In the moment, a pretty breathtaking twist, I must admit. In hindsight, the intrusion feels unwelcome. Time has only deepened my appreciation for what Brock and Roman worked to achieve in their singles bout, such that when the natural resolution to it gets cut off for an infinitely lesser worker to have his moment, one does feel robbed. Heist of the century is right, as Seth likely costs Roman his best shot at the big ole Montecillo fiver in this moment. It’s not all Seth being the problem, a much bigger issue is the macro. The pay off that the company clearly wants gets delayed, and they will spend the rest of the 2010s chasing it, putting it off, and then chasing it once again.
WWE’s main event storytelling all the way up to 2024 remains a direct consequence of what happens on this night. What is The Bloodline, after all, but Roman Reigns finally deciding he’s done chasing success and instead choosing to take it and keep it by any means? For better and for worse, nearly ten years of WWE has revolved around this bout. There’s a gravity to it, pulling all things towards it over time.
It’s weighty, immense. One of the last true WWE monoliths.
IS IT BETTER THAN 6/3/94? As beloved and significant as 6/3/94 may be to the King’s Road canon, it does not warp the world around it in the same way that this WrestleMania main event does. This match is a hard line in the road, kickstarting an entire era of the WWE, that arguably has led them to their most successful period in decades. It’s a zigzagging path that diverges often, but there’s no denying that this moment in time is one of the most significant points in that path. It also just whoops so much more ass than Kawada and Misawa do. The blood feels utilized a lot more cleverly than Misawa’s ear blood, and if it’s big bumps you want, there’s more than enough to go around here as well. Brock and Roman win the day.
Rating: ****3/4
