SPOTLIGHTED PODCAST ALERT (YOUR ARTICLE BEGINS A FEW INCHES DOWN)...
Hey! My name is David Bryant, and I am an AEW fan.
Some of you may remember me from such profound and important columns as “Dark Elevation,” “Out of Bounds” (What was that even about?), and AEW Collision Hits & Misses, a column about a show watched by a population of viewers so large they could rival the ratings of C-SPAN.
If you were to go back and read these columns, you would find that my commentary often featured insightfully-blind takes about some of my favorite AEW stars — stars such as Cody Rhodes, C.M. Punk, Miro, Andrade, Malakai Black, Penta, Rey Fenix, Jade Cargill, Ricky Starks, Shawn Spears, Brian Pillman Jr., Ethan Page, Bea Priestley, William Regal, Mark Henry, and many more who I assume have gone to the bathroom.
While I wait for them to return, I’ve decided to check out WrestleMania 41 (God, I’m old.), and see how the competition is holding up.
NIGHT ONE:
THE ART OF THE HYPE VIDEO:
WrestleMania 41 began by flaunting a soaring shot of something WWE has that AEW does not… buildings with exteriors. After this, we were shown a slew of wrestlers getting ready backstage before a hype video played, which, all jokes aside, was of a quality AEW has no excuse for not emulating. (Editing equipment hasn’t been prohibitively expensive since 2009.)
Now, I’m not saying that AEW doesn’t have good hype videos; they do. While many of them are as well executed as a death row inmate, very few of them are as well executed as the video I just witnessed. The opening video for night 1 of WrestleMania was not merely executed in the same way the government commits murder; it was executed in the same way that the American government executed the feat of putting multiple men on the moon before completely forgetting how to do it ever again.
What AEW should do is invest in a film school. Now, obviously, Full Sail University is taken and Half-Sail University is a pot store, but Central Florida is also home to another film school that has had dozens of its alumni nominated for Academy Awards. That school is Ringling College (not the clown one, which was surprisingly located in the same city). Ringling College is located two hours from Full Sail and four hours from Daily’s Place. If four hours is too far for Tony Khan’s private jet, the Savannah College of Art and Design is located just two-and-a-half hours removed from Daily’s Place, and I’m sure its students (much like all film students) would work for toilet paper if it meant getting their creations on national television.
These young, aspiring students and/or recent graduates would not only work for peanuts (shelled, unshelled, comic-stripped), but they would do a jaw-droppingly good job. Trust me, I know firsthand. Not only have I edited multiple hype videos, but I also studied Filmmaking with a focus on Screenwriting at the University of North Carolina School of the Arts. Recent film graduates want work more than they want “Joker” posters in their bedrooms.
Anyway, where was I?
Oh yes, Night One.
THE OPENING OF NIGHT ONE:
Night one of WrestleMania began with a rousing rendition of a song that is not the national anthem and nobody had the balls to tell Vince McMahon for 39 years. The song was beautifully sung by a person disguised as a fruit-filled pastry before the camera cut to the ring where a person disguised as a nose welcomed us to WrestleMania: Night One. Fireworks then erupted across the stage and shone as bright as the sun for the next four hours. (How is WWE able to afford Jelly Roll but not a tarp big enough to cover a roof?)
Anyway, where was I?
Oh yes, the set. AEW needs to talk to whoever designs WWE’s sets because these sets looked like gorgeous architecture and not like someone took the Monday Night Raw set and put it in a blender.
WRESTLING QUALITY:
WWE really needs to talk to whoever is in charge of AEW’s in-ring work because I just watched a WrestleMania men’s World Heavyweight Title match that looked like it was choreographed by a dial-up modem trying to stream HD and a women’s World Title match that looked like it was choreographed by an espresso machine in a dentist’s office.
Speaking of espresso, I am frankly surprised and impressed that WWE managed to convince Sabrina Carpenter to become their Women’s World Champion. Over in AEW, the closest thing we have to an A-list celebrity is Leslie Jones putting over more people in a single match than Charlotte has in her entire career.
Anyway, where was I?
Oh yes, the main event.
THE MAIN EVENT OF NIGHT ONE:
When C.M. Punk said he wanted a WrestleMania main event, I am sure this is exactly what he had in mind.
ARTICLE CONTINUED BELOW…
Check out the latest episode of “Wrestling Night in America,” part of the PWTorch Dailycast line-up: CLICK HERE to stream (or search “pwtorch” on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, or any other iOS or Android app to subscribe free)
NIGHT TWO:
THE NATIONAL ANTHEM:
Night two began with the national anthem (not the Lana Del Rey version) being sung by Ava Max, which was the most “holy shit” moment I’ve had while watching a musical act at WrestleMania who has never had a top 5 single or top 20 album in the United States in her entire career. (That’s not on her; that’s on you. Get your act together and stream “Lose Your Faith.”)
AEW should have the national anthem performed at their shows more often. It sets a tone of grandeur; Lillian Garcia would love the work, and adding two minutes to an AEW PPV would get them closer to their dream runtime of 13 hours.
After the national anthem, another outstanding hype video played, and this one was narrated by Dana White (the one who is not involved in “Wheel of Fortune.”) After Dana (not the Carvey kind) finished talking, the camera cut to a person disguised as what would happen if King Midas hugged a waterfall, and she proudly used her dad-sized voice to welcome us to WrestleMania: Night Two!
WRESTLING QUALITY:
Oh, wait. Now I get it. WWE was saving all of the good women’s wrestling for the SECOND night of WrestleMania. Well, boy oh boy (or girl oh girl), watching this opening women’s match was like watching brilliance snort cocaine (which I wouldn’t know anything about because I’ve never used it sometimes), and pure magic (if rabbits suplexed hats).
On the whole (or the half, if you’re using Ozempic), tonight’s wrestling was miles better than last night’s wrestling (outside of Night One’s main event, which was good even AFTER they ran out of trashcans designed and purchased in 1982). Heck, the in-ring work on Night Two’s show almost made up for the ending of the John Cena vs. Cody Rhodes main event. Almost.
SPONSORSHIPS:
Tonight’s WrestleMania was brought to you by literally everything.
THE ART OF THE WRECK:
Darby Allin needs to have a pow-wow with “Stone Cold” Steve Austin about how to wreck vehicles into things that aren’t Nick Khan’s wallet.
THE MAIN EVENT:
If I could convince AEW to take away just one thing from tonight’s main event, it would be this: when it comes to professional wrestling, the pomp is as important as the circumstance. There is no 360 splash, no shooting star press, and no Stormbreaker awesome enough to equal the spectacle of a really, really good storyline.
Anyway, where was I?
Oh yes, wrapping things up!
Welp, it looks like my favorite wrestlers have finally returned from the bathroom and are now on the Raw after WrestleMania. F—.
Thank you all for reading. I truly appreciate it. And as always, I’m still working on my sign-off, but until next time, remember: One, two… buckle my shoe. Three, four… knock at the door. Five, six… will somebody answer that? The pounding is driving me nuts. What happened to Velcro? Why are sticks even a part of this? Don’t bring random sticks into my house! What are you doing? Are you nine? Ten? Let’s start again.
(David Bryant’s bathroom selfies can be found on his “Artist Formerly Known as Twitter” account @IamDavidBryant; a video of David Bryant being knocked unconscious by an exploding television set can be found on his Instagram account @IamDavidBryant, and David Bryant’s Threads account is threadbare and also located @IamDavidBryant because David Bryant sucks at usernames. David is a published author, circus artist, drag promoter, male pageant winner, unrenowned musician, sloppy figure skater, and the inventor of the world’s first inflatable anvil for the conservation of endangered coyotes. Less impressively, David studied Screenwriting at the University of North Carolina School of the Arts.)
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