It has become entirely pointless to critique WWE's sports entertainment through the lens of a pro wrestling ideologue. WWE doesn't write for its audience, nor does it write coherent stories. To gain any enjoyment from the 2018 product, it's best to simply focus on the performers and their ability to pull off thankless tasks.
Becky Lynch is a natural babyface, so of course WWE turned her heel. There's no doubting that anymore, incidentally. She demands Charlotte Flair raises her arm, she assaults her without provocation, and, in true WWE heel style, she takes intentional disqualification losses in order to delay the inevitable. And, make no mistake, Charlotte Flair heading into WrestleMania 35 as division talisman is inevitable. But for now, enjoy the performance.
Becky Lynch is so great in this role. Chin jutted, eyes narrowed, she is totally, coolly defiant. You can almost see the last lot of f*cks ooze casually out of her. She projects herself with an understated authority. This is a woman who knows she deserves to be where she's at, and could care less about how she got there. On the stick, she is similarly confident; she does a passable imitation of the inimitable Conor McGregor, and that is not the backhanded compliment it may read as.
This isn't entirely an accidental success; WWE has scripted and directed Lynch very well throughout, even if the principle behind that direction remains unsettling.