It’s Official: A New Era Has Begun In WWE
The Undertaker, stitched back at the seams with Saudi blood money, used the last fumes of his tank to blow an errant strand of hair from his face as the match crawled to a conclusion. Even this was beyond him. Out of breath, he collapsed to the mat, a morbidly hilarious shadow of his old, formidable self. The Saudi General Sports Authority presented Crown Jewel…
…in partnership with WWE Studios.
To use another, more fitting film analogy (Death Becomes Her is actually really good on purpose), Tommy Wiseau’s The Room is the definitive so-bad-it’s-good masterpiece. Harrowing, copy-and-pasted software sex scenes shot and acted by the über-bizarre antithesis of sex; inexplicably abandoned subplots; genuinely alien-like dialogue: it is an incredibly wrong film. Everything about it is the antithesis of good filmmaking, and is thus impressively awful. In a low-key moment of wrongness, we see, over and over again, the sun setting over San Francisco. This is a cinematic technique designed to convey the passage of time. No time passes in The Room. The passage of time conveys nothing.
On the undercard of Crown Jewel, Shane McMahon, to cap off a tournament weeks in the making, one with no less lofty a stake than to determine the best wrestler in the world, won the inaugural WWE World Cup. After a second, very convenient injury angle, McMahon, always the hero, always the badass, stepped in for The Miz. He defeated Dolph Ziggler in an impromptu final, drawing utter astonishment from all quarters. Was anybody that fussed? Subjectively, this was hilarious.
CONT'D...(3 of 5)