WrestleMania 32 Review

Further Reading: WrestleMania 32 Results

One for the statisticians among you: This year's WrestleMania hinged so much on a contest between a veteran wrestler who has competed in a grand total of 14 matches over the past five years, versus a man who has fought not once during that time. If anything demonstrates how sorely WWE is missing its biggest and best performers through injury (Seth Rollins, John Cena, Cesaro, Randy Orton), and retirement (Daniel Bryan, Sting), it's that Shane McMahon vs The Undertaker was billed as the must-see highlight.

Credit where it's due; what an excellent build-up it was, with stakes placed at an all-time high. This Hell in a Cell contest pitted The Undertaker's WrestleMania career versus Shane McMahon's bid to take control of RAW, which ultimately meant that both had to win. But while WWE can artfully control the booking to sell the seats, there was little it could do about the performance, which was a pedestrian bout between a 51-year old and a business executive who hasn't wrestled since 2009.

As the match persisted, the stakes seemed lower by the minute; the crowd largely muted, at times teetering on disinterest. Undertaker is an unparalleled pro-wrestler, his legacy is immeasurable, but he's human too and it's no longer possible for him to hide his age. Shane was visibly nervy, which worked very well as a visual as Undertaker strode down the aisle, but sometimes resulted in an awkward flow. That's not to imply both were too lazy to pull off, say, a top-rope hurricanrana, it was more a matter of the things you can't quite control, namely agility and stamina in maturing years.

Then there was the highest of high-spots; Shane willingly jumping off the top of the cell onto a table, in a moment hard to believe would ever happen again since Jim Ross uttered the immortal lines in 1998; "good god almighty, good god almighty, they've killed him."

Shane, in an unintended tribute to Mick Foley, looked dead. The can't-look-can't-look-away spectacle of this remarkably brave performer, risking it all for the fans, spliced an unforgettable moment into an otherwise unremarkable match.

That indeed could be the legacy of WrestleMania 32. This record-breaking show was an unbelievably long event that, save for one or two fine moments, lacked energy. The final main event, Triple H vs Roman Reigns, was not as bad as Triple H's match against Randy Orton at WM25, but it dared to be. Back and forth it went with no real story produced along the way. It lacked invention, it relied on far too many big moves (a million Superman punches, a thousand spears), and the fans were determined not to enjoy it.

So it finally happened: The best fight at WrestleMania was a Divas match. Fittingly, it was the final ever 'Divas' match, due to the belt being retired in favour of the courteously named Women's Championship.

Charlotte vs Becky Lynch vs Sasha Banks was a contest that deftly portrayed all three as evenly matched competitors. The pacing was exquisite, with each combatant gradually breaking each other down until every move and submission was applied with an air of desperation. The fans were wincing and ooh-ing, gripped by the theatrics.

It's quite a feat to steal the show on your first WrestleMania, and equally so to see three young athletes not let the occasion get the better of them. Triple-threat matches can be awkward affairs, but this struck a perfect balance; high tempo but not frenzied, complex but never over-elaborate or gimmicky. It also offered a surprising number of high-spots, the best of which was Charlotte's mesmerising moonsault from the top-corner to the outside.

Perhaps the reason why the triple-threat match stood out so well was how fresh it looked in the context of the rest of the show. WM32 was old ideas repeated. Even the legend cameos, from The Rock to John Cena to Steve Austin to Shawn Michaels to Mick Foley, seemed like a repeat of the WM30 and 31 spots. The lack of buzz for The Rock, in particular, suggests the fans are a little tired of flying visits.

Undercard Underperforms

The Andre The Giant Memorial Battle Royale posed more questions than answers. Why is Shaq here? Why is he as strong as the Big Show? Where on earth was the Wyatt Family? Was that really Tatanka? The answer to all those questions is, invariably, "lighten up, it's wrestling."

Jocular hijinks were the order of the day here, lightening the mood in between the Taker/Shane and Trips/Reigns bouts, and on that basis it did okay. The eventual winner, the NXT upstart Baron Corbin, is a smart way to kick-start his promising main roster career.

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Easily biggest disappointment of the night was the street fight between Brock Lesnar and Dean Ambrose. This no-holds-barred-style bout was restricted by both its time-slot and the parameters of PG wrestling. It wasn't disappointing because there was no claret, but more because it lacked moments of shock or tension or surprise.

The pace didn't suit Ambrose, who was slowly tossed around the ring until he was ready again for another beating. Nor did the psychology make much sense; Being 'crazy' enough to withstand umpteen suplexes, instead of being decimated the way legends such as Cena and Taker were, doesn't quite suspend disbelief.

It seems ungrateful considering both fighters will wake up sore tomorrow, but this could have been an epic mismatch where the mad underdog would make fans dare to dream he could win. Instead it was a rather unemotional beating with a few kendo sticks.

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The New Day versus The League of Nations match will, for better or worse, be remembered for its ring entrances rather than the match itself. Getting the matter of the action itself out of the way, the 3-vs-3 contest was a by-the-numbers affair. Reasonable indeed, but hard to remember.

Fans loved it for different reasons entirely. The WWE's hottest tag team arrived to the ring dressed as gold Super Saiyans, stumbling out of a 20-foot box of Booty-Os, with Xavier Woods looking immaculate in Dragon Ball-Z-like hair. Franchesca II, the trombone, looked more dashing than ever with a new black and gold trim.

The League of Nations' moment of victory, at just 9:35, was quickly overshadowed by three post-match entrances: Shawn Michaels, Mick Foley, and Stone Cod Steve Austin. As the glass shattered, the crowd erupted into frenzy. Again, the resulting in-ring action didn't deliver the same pop as the big hello, but it was an enjoyable homecoming for two of Texas' best wrestling exports (plus Mick).

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Considering everything that Jericho and AJ Styles have been through the past two months, the pair needed to double-down on their efforts to bring some sparkle to their second blow-off match. Their answer in this 17-minute bout was a long series of false finishes and surprise kick-outs (unsuccessful finishers included the Walls of Jericho not once but twice, a Code Breaker, a Styles Clash, and a beautifully executed springboard 450-degree splash).

There was possibly one kick-out finisher too many (which certainly isn't an issue isolated to this match alone) but nonetheless this was a slick bout which told the story of a veteran versus a grand master. Styles drove the tempo and Jericho made his heel moments count.

The result, a half-clean Jericho win, was a surprise. Whether it will derail Styles's push is the big question. He can at least leave the stadium knowing his performance was a highlight of the night.

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In what could be the beginning of a new tradition, WrestleMania opened once again with a seven-man ladder match for the Intercontinental Championship. And much like last year, the result delivered a feel-good factor, with Zack Ryder shocking onlookers by picking up the title.

Ryder's career had nose-dived in the past several years, at least in terms of positioning, having spent recent months in NXT honing his craft and passing on his knowledge. His victory, much like Daniel Bryan's last year, goes to show how far one can go with hard work. You could see his eyes well up as he pulled the belt off its hook and raised it above his head.

The contest was predictably crazy: A berserk mash-up of daredevil high-spots and crunching sounds of appendages clashing with steel. It's incredibly difficult to innovate in ladder matches these days, and this bout didn't, but it was a blast nevertheless.

Sami Zayn, who one suspected would be bruising from Friday's incredible NXT bout against Shinsuke Nakamura, was a blur of raw energy. His shoulder injury seems like a distant memory now.

Women's Revolution

The highlight of the Pre-Show wasn't any of the three fine opening matches, but the official reveal of the WWE Women's Championship by Hall of Famer Lita. Cherish the moment: No more use of the pejorative term "divas", no more vulgar butterfly belts. Pro-wrestling may often be behind the times on matters of diversity, but at the grand stage it made an important step.

Diva gimmick matches (sorry, force of habit; Women's gimmick matches) at major pay-per-views have traditionally been booked around toilet breaks, and it's wonderful to see the 10-women tag-team match rise above expectations. Lots of positives resonated: 11 minutes gave each combatant enough time to showcase their work, Lana's debut was awkward but did the job, Brie Bella is sharper than ever, and Emma proved she deserves a recall to the main roster.

It was a surprising to see Kalisto vs Ryback, a classic David vs Goliath story told by two pro wrestlers still in the ascendancy of their careers, was booked as the curtain jerker. The nine minutes that both stars had, largely in front of an empty stadium, was not quite ideal circumstances for a gripping match. Both performed well nevertheless.