WWE Vs. NJPW: Head To Head
Falling ratings versus rising sun.
In a companion piece to WWE Vs. AEW: Head To Head, here, the contrasts between WWE and another competitor—New Japan Pro Wrestling—are explored.
Both companies exist in a state of wild divergence.
WWE is and for at least the next five years—at least—will remain the far bigger enterprise. But its popularity is dwindling. The loose non-system and over-production can, somehow, create stars—but the all-encompassing black hole created by Vince McMahon swallows most all of them in the end. Ratings are down. House show attendance is down. (Ugly as sh*t) merchandise is down. Network subscriptions are down. The volume in arenas is down. Anecdotally, fans are bewildered and disenchanted at the dire state of the product.
The term ‘Golden Era’ barely applies to New Japan anymore. The company is established as a creative force to such an extent that high-profile departures—Kenny Omega, Shinsuke Nakamura, AJ Styles—don’t impact the commercial side whatsoever. Gauging by attendances this year, New Japan has grown in spite of them. The star-making process is ludicrously fertile. The product is artistically outstanding, and business is growing by the year.
WWE is bigger.
But which is best…?
10. Match Quality
There is no comparison.
WWE main roster matches can excel. But, stifled and over-produced and wrestled in a certain gear, they rarely bang.
The best WWE matches, that aren’t wrestled with the richest of depth by Daniel Bryan, tend to follow a strict pattern culminating in an exciting if somewhat hollow succession of near-falls. New Japan matches erupt in a similar way, but not before the danger of the finish is first put over. Whether through agonising struggle or frantic escape, the counter-heavy New Japan norm excels in the space between moves as much—if not more so—than the moves themselves. New Japan matches tend to build in a more logical and exhilarating fashion than the methodical WWE norm.
The actual moves in design and execution surpass those seen in a WWE ring. The impact of Kazuchika Okada’s Rainmaker lariat is bracing. Will Ospreay’s Stormbreaker is a death spiral. But Jon Moxley’s Death Rider is the best illustration, in that its gruesome head-first impact is a literal elevation of his old Dirty Deeds finish. And if it feels to some WWE loyalists like “cheating”—a dangerous betrayal of the work—that isn’t untrue, but the head-rattling impact of a superplex isn’t exactly safe. Hiroshi Tanahashi’s dragon screw also kills that argument. A very safe move, it thrillingly alters the flow of a match like a superbly-timed footballing counterattack, and you never see it coming.
The fighting spirit philosophy of belated selling and awesome last-ditch comebacks is far more dramatically effective than the shocked-kickout-face melodrama of WWE, too.
Scorecard: WWE 0-1 NJPW