AJ Styles vs. Minoru Suzuki reappraised

This entry is a little bit different than my standard 'review of an event' fare. The August 1st 2014 match between Minoru Suzuki and AJ Styles as part of the annual G1 Climax tournament has been living inside my head for a few months now and I think that it's time to write it all down. 

There's a few paragraphs before I start to talk about the match itself. Feel free to jump them, though I think it's discursive self-critique at its very best! 

Before I delve into this article I would like to open with the caveat that this is less about handwringing about Meltzer snowflakes and more about processing wrestling as a storytelling artform and learning about new ways to appreciate the dynamics of two or more people pretending to have a fight with each other.

Nonetheless, when you try to churn out reviews at the pace that I do, sometimes you will under- or overrate matches dependent on a number of factors: how much you like the competitors, the position on the card, the mood of the crowd, how you felt when you woke up that morning, etc. ad. infinitum. I stand by the general tenor of all of my reviews but on reflection I think that one or two bouts could use their mark tweaking by a quarter or even half a star in either direction. You decide which.

The industry professional (ie. wrestler) will argue that they don't care, that they're in it to make money and ultimately star ratings won't feed their family. That's true and the opinions of peons like me are piffling and sometimes offensive to people who genuinely wrack their body for entertainment. Sometimes we critics miss the point, that it wasn't incumbent upon the workers to go out and try for a 5* classic rather it was to have the best match for the role and the position on the card. These points are fair, which is why I err on the side of generosity and try to challenge jaded critics lest they poison their own well.

Wrestlers are proud people. It's not just work, because other work is often better paid and less physically gruelling. Wrestlers often take an immense amount of care over the effort and presentation of their performances. And one could argue that since wrestling developed a critical culture that performances have improved. Correlation may not necessarily indicate causation, sure, but regular wrestling attenders enjoy wrestling done well. Whatever your criticisms of the contemporary WWE may be, there is no way that fans would tolerate a similar ring-based output as an 80s edition of Wrestling Classic for very long. And besides, with an inordinate amount of wrestling out there to consume, some people need an authoritative guide to light the way a little.

No, not him. Me.

That last paragraph might sound a little self-aggrandising, but it isn't intended as such. With any critic you really need to read a little deeper to see if you develop a feel for their intuition and insight through the way they use familiar touchstones. For instance, if you're a big fan of deathmatch style, then a quick read through some of my entries would clue you in that I have no feel for the style and am openly hostile toward it. Likewise I read this review of NJPW Power Struggle and realised that The Big Red Machine (reviewer) and I probably have very little in common in terms of what we like about wrestling. Personally I think he's a little disrespectful and tedious little oaf and I'm entitled to hold that opinion, just as you are about me.

What I am saying is, in a very long form: please quit whining for ages about the scores Dave Meltzer or anybody give to wrestling matches. Wrestling, in its stalling transition between sport and art and carefully cultivated distance between writer/performer and reviewer, has yet to fully develop a critical language. Just trust your senses and your emotions, maintain a healthy sense of respect for the relative distance between you and the performer (i.e. not much) and all will be fine.

Anyway. Two weeks ago the following occurred to me.

had a think, 5 stars for Suzuki v Styles. That's it. Enjoy your day.
— fujiwara armbar (@fujiwaraarmbar) November 7, 2014

Not big news, you might think. Lots of people gave that match the full five. And it's not like I gave it 3.25 and am retrospectively jumping on the bandwagon. I gave it 4.75 and said things like this:

Specific moments will be lost until a rewatch, but as all-consuming spectacles go there can't be many finer than this across all forms of art or entertainment.

Which is high praise indeed and I stand by it. I've heard a few great albums this year, seen a few good films and enjoyed some excellent television and comedy, but none of it has really stayed with me to the extent that Suzuki-Styles has managed. So why didn't I just give it 5* at the time and have done with it?

For some reason I had settled on a fairly strict criteria on what constitutes such a match and was incredibly stringent on which matches qualified. Not only did the work in the ring have to be a complete wow, it really helped if the occasion was as big possible and the stakes were as high as they could go - and perhaps into the bargain, something seismic happened along the way.

The matches that I had originally designated as 5* were as follows.

• Masakatsu Funaki vs. Tatsuo Nakano, UWF Fighting Star Hakata, 1989
• Jumbo Tsuruta vs. Mitsuharu Misawa, AJPW Super Power Series Day 19, 1990 
• Kenta Kobashi vs. Stan Hansen, AJPW Summer Action Series Day 22, 1993
• Bret Hart vs. Owen Hart, WWE Wrestlemania X, 1994
• Shawn Michaels vs. Razor Ramon, WWE Wrestlemania X, 1994
• El Hijo del Santo and Octagon vs. Eddie Guerrero and Art Barr, AAA When Worlds Collide, 1994.
• Kyoko Inoue vs. Manami Toyota, AJW G*Top 2nd, 1995
• Rey Mysterio Jr. vs. Juventud Guerrera, ECW Big Ass Extreme Bash, 1996
• Bret Hart vs. Steve Austin, WWE Wrestlemania 13, 1997
• Mankind vs. The Undertaker, WWE King of the Ring, 1998
• Kenta Kobashi vs. Mitsuharu Misawa, NOAH Navigate For Evolution Day 9, 2003.
• Bryan Danielson vs. Naruki Doi, Dragon Gate USA Open The Untouchable Gate, 2009.
• Hiroshi Tanahashi vs. Kazuchika Okada, NJPW Invasion Attack, 2013

Those are the ones off the top of my head, the ones that stayed with me for days and weeks afterward, the ones that reshaped my thought process by double integer degrees. But it also indicates huge pockets of bias and holes in the knowledge; against anything before 1989, against a lot of things from the previous decade, against various styles and omitting dozens and dozens of legends whose legacies dwarf my silly little wrestling opinions when they get out of bed in the morning and scratch their butt.

When I broke it down to myself, after Suzuki-Styles had ended, I also realised that my 'strict criteria' was broken by many of these matches. Funaki-Nakano is a 9 minute shoot style match in the midcard. Mysterio-Guerrera was a retread of a match performed the day before with a different result. Mankind-Undertaker is pure spectacle and the 'wrestling' in it is, technically, lousy. Danielson-Doi is a midcard match on a large independent show.

So why was I resistant to give Suzuki-Styles the same mark?

No idea what to expect from Styles vs Suzuki. #G124
— fujiwara armbar (@fujiwaraarmbar) August 1, 2014

That tweet from just a few minutes before the match began indicates that gauging my own level of anticipation was incredibly difficult. Neither wrestler is my favourite wrestler, or in my top five to ten guys active today. I had rarely seen AJ Styles in TNA because I don't watch it and Minoru Suzuki had been stuck in a never-ending feud with Toru Yano. 

Of course, I knew that both men were exceptionally-skilled, but how often do exceptionally-skilled wrestlers work brilliant matches with opponents that are not only their stylistic opposite but their cultural opposite too? AJ Styles, a brash English-speaking all-rounder, with a wide repertoire and a predilection for innovation, 37 but still moving like a man five to seven years younger, less believable in a certain sense but very much a product of the demanding post-ECW US independent school of work. And Suzuki, a wrestler-turned-legitimate fighter-turned-wrestler, Japanese-speaking, older and protective of his body, prizing veracity and comfort in a smaller range of tried and tested holds and strikes.

Neither men had ever shared a ring before, so history was separate. The setting for the match was somewhat special, happening at Korakuen Hall during the G1 Climax with both men technically still in the hunt to win. The match happened 8th of 10, with nothing on the line greater than two points toward a total score. Whilst more important than any match that will occur on most wrestling shows, it is hardly Kobashi-Misawa at the Budokan after 10 years of pain in and out of the ring for the challenger. 

My friend Jude says he knew the match was going to be great from the moment Minoru Suzuki entered the ring and stood nose-to-nose with AJ Styles, then the IWGP Heavyweight Champion. I can't say I felt exactly the same, but I recall the crowd already chanting before any sweat had dripped, mostly for MI-NO-RU but a few pockets of A-J were audible.

Suzuki has cold murder in his eyes, whilst Styles wears an expression like he hasn't got a clue what to make of Suzuki, which gradually turns into a scowl. Suzuki strikes first, palming Styles' chest and then rocketing him with a slap and pushing him back to the ropes with knees. Here Styles goes for one of his signature spots, reversing a whip and sending Suzuki into the ropes. He times his vertical leap over the charging Suzuki to perfection, shaving the top of his head. As Suzuki returns from the far rope, Styles hits the deck allowing Suzuki to step over and continue running the ropes. As Suzuki returns a third time, Styles has timed a stellar drop-kick to Suzuki. Suzuki rolls out of the ring, Styles taunts, and the crowd explode.

Suzuki baits Styles to the outside but the champion outwits his opponent again, hitting a vaulting forearm from the guardrail. The next minute or so really begins to reel the storyline in, with Styles dominating with stiff kicks, a huge knee coming off the ropes, a vertical suplex and a backbreaker. Between each move, Suzuki's expression gradually changes, his permanent tetchiness still beneath the surface but his eyes indicate the potential to boil over into rage. Real credit to the direction of the match here, keeping both workers in balance with close-ups.

Styles whips Suzuki into a neutral corner. He gets a little cocky and his charge in has Suzuki backdrop him onto the apron. Styles lands on his feet and stuns his turning opponent with a forearm and attempts to vault from the top rope to attack from above. Suzuki regains his marbles, blocking the attempt smartly and beginning his assault on Styles, locking him in a rope-trap armbar that the referee breaks once the crowd have soaked it in. The motion of both competitors is really noteworthy here, indicative of a plan. Styles falls to the outside, on his feet, whilst Suzuki rolls twice to his right, crawls through the ropes and rights himself on the apron. A split-second to check in with one another and then Suzuki sprints down the apron and volleys Styles in the chest.

For the next minute, Suzuki puts his side of the story across. Where Styles has established himself as a quick-witted, cat-like presence, Suzuki lays out his case: he mangles the right arm of Styles with a kick, wrapping it up in the railings and in a ringside chair. A woman in the crowd, inches from where Styles is yelling in pain is screaming as well, all the while trying to take a photo on her phone. Suzuki returns to the ring to catch breath and await the count.

Ranked the best match of the G1 Climax 24 by Weekly Gong (credit: puroresushop.com)

The assault continues. Styles breaks the count but Suzuki pounces, kicking Styles and then chasing the arm with a series of transitions between judo bars and locks, the names of which escape me but were all shown to me the hard way and allow me to report that they hurt. Suzuki, whilst essentially wrenching the arm at the shoulder socket, begins sadistic manipulation of the lower limb to inflict pain upon the elbow. Styles' selling here is brilliant, flirting with truth.

Referee Unno forces Suzuki to break. Suzuki kicks Styles into the corner and grasps for his wounded arm. The next moment really drives home the smarts and the fighting spirit of Styles with the damage that his opponent has caused, rolling forward to counter another armbar attempt, still attached by the arm, desperately seeking a moment to stop the pressure. With his back to the corner, Styles hits a desperation snap suplex into the turnbuckle, Suzuki vertical at the moment of impact, the commentary team roaring UUUUUUUUWAAAAAAAAA along with the action. Both men are on the deck.

The next section cleverly re-orientates the heel-face dynamic. Styles is up and he punishes Suzuki in the corner. Unno checks on Suzuki, who has seen Styles charging in for more. Suzuki drags Unno into the way, who takes a flying forearm from Styles. Styles cradles the ref to lessen the blow as Suzuki rolls away. Whilst attending to the stricken ref, Suzuki's stablemate TAKA attacks Styles with stomps (at this moment I was very sceptical whether the match would continue to be good). The dynamic is cemented: Suzuki bad, Styles good.

Gallows and Anderson hit the ring to deal with TAKA, and Archer and Smith Jr. hit the ring to deal with the Bullet Club guys, but the in-ring competitors remain away from the fray. It gives both men a brief moment of respite and allows Act 2 to commence.

The pair meet in the middle for a strike exchange. Styles' right arm is mostly useless and used only for measuring strikes rather than delivering them. Again there's an interesting disparity; Suzuki is direct and merciless, using crashing open-handed slaps, whilst Styles uses an innovative combo that manages to land blows on all of Suzuki's limbs in the space of a couple of seconds. This section ends with a double KO from a pair of slaps. The crowd hit a new gear.

On the first watch the next section appeared to be a mistake, or a miscommunication, but now I see that it works. Suzuki forearms Styles into the ropes and tries to whip Styles across the ring. Styles stops and kicks Suzuki in the chest. There's a moment of pause where it looks like Styles will try again but in fact the move has set up one of the iconic moments of the match. Suzuki is seated centre-ring, facing the hard camera. Styles walks up behind him and grabs the hair protruding from the back of his head and performs the signature taunt of Bullet Club - the finger-gun - and holds the pose for a moment.

Here's where the distance from the match has created a meta-narrative of its own. This is from Minoru Suzuki's blog on the day of the match, which I did not read as it was posted in Japanese.

Let me talk about this guy AJ and the stable that he resides in, the Bullet Club. I hate that hand sign they make so irresponsibly. That ‘sign’ they make with their thumb and index finger. A sign that represents a gun. A pistol.

Do they even know what this means? Do you have any idea what it means to point that finger ‘at’ your opponent? It’s completely different from what those kids call ‘shoot’.

from puroresushop.com

The face Suzuki pulls as AJ stands above him (see above) is priceless. It sums up that blog entry and boils down the general disgust into one perfect image. Suzuki wraps his hand around the 'gun barrel' and gleefully sets about manipulating the small joints of Styles, twisting his fingers this way and that. This in itself has some significance, being one of the few techniques that is illegal across MMA, judo and Suzuki's detested Brazilian jiu-jitsu. Unno breaks the hold and Styles falls into a corner, remonstrating that "he tried to break my fingers!"

Suzuki charges again but Styles hits a defensive kick that rolls him out of the ring and onto the apron. Suzuki staggers back, giving Styles a second to leap to the top rope and spring off in at attempt to land a flying forearm. Like a wrangler stopping a rampaging steer, Suzuki plucks Styles from mid-air by his ragged arm and in one swift motion rolls him into an Fujiwara armbar. To this day this takes my breath right away, showing how well any two approaches to wrestling can be intermeshed with due care.

Even worse for Styles, whilst locked face down, Suzuki, looking crazed, starts pulling at the digits of his bad arm. Styles inches for the rope, every minute shuffle and strain sold and felt by the ambiance and the commentary team and the workers, breaking the hold. A strike exchange follows. Styles goes to the ropes and Suzuki follows him in. Styles looks to have regained the upper hand, swinging for Suzuki with a lariat, but Suzuki sneaks underneath, jinks around the back of Styles and locks in a sleeperhold. Suzuki's wins on the two days previous had been set up by a sleeper into a saka otoshi, so everyone knows that Styles is in deep trouble. He begins to turn colours.

At the point of passing out, Suzuki turns Styles around and attempts the Gotch-style Piledriver. Styles sinks to his knees, strain against strain. Suzuki lets go to soften Styles up with a kick, but Styles catches it and hooks Suzuki into a powerbomb position, though Suzuki's upper half goes vertical against Styles' body, setting up the Styles Clash. As Styles steps his leg over, Suzuki grasps Styles' leg and drags Styles to the mat, shutting him down in an ankle lock, twisting and applying extra leverage, the crowd screaming all the while. Styles tries to make the ropes but Suzuki drags him back to centre ring. 

With no way out, Styles tucks his head in and rolls forward, reversing the ankle lock into one of his own, though Suzuki is nowhere near ready to capitulate and reverses back to his starting position. Styles attempts the same thing again but Suzuki sees it coming, catching Styles' arm in a strict-looking juji gatame. Styles tries to loosen the pressure twice but Suzuki cinches back in the move, each time to shrieks of delight. Nothing is working for Styles. He struggles to his feet, with Suzuki still clawing at his arm, manipulating his opponent into the Styles Clash position, hitting it out of pure desperation and utterly unable to make the cover. At least Suzuki has let go of his arm.

Sensing the finish, the ringside cameramen line up along the apron looking to get their big moneymaking shot. The pair return to their feet and return to centre ring. Suzuki spits at Styles and slaps him on the chest. Styles slaps with his weaker left arm. The two return mutual fire until, wobbled by a forearm, Suzuki makes a big show of clenching his fist and lamping the jaw of Styles. The crowd burst, booing at the illegal trick.

Suzuki moves in for the kill but Styles hits his spectacular overhead Pele Kick to make Suzuki see stars for the first time in the match. Moving quickly, Styles hauls Suzuki up for the Styles Clash and delivers it mid-ring and takes a popular win. Jushin Liger, on commentary, lets out a low rumble of a noise that seems to indicate approval. Styles takes his title and sinks to his knees mid-ring, surprised at the A! J! chants that have spread to all corners of the room. At ringside, Suzuki jostles with a ring boy and hurls some water before leaving.

What a brilliant match. Speechless. #G124
— fujiwara armbar (@fujiwaraarmbar) August 1, 2014

Written down it might all seem cold and antithetical to the point I'm making, as well as being remarkably long-winded. It strikes me that though the write-up flows, it is not quite as the match did. Here each paragraph transitions from the last in a mechanical fashion, where between Suzuki and Styles it had a metre all of its own.

When put to Suzuki that he had potentially had a match of the year candidate, his response was typical.

that is something for the critiques, media, and the fans to consider. I mean, those evaluation help me pay the bills and everything, but that’s not what I want right now.

See. You can't talk about match quality with a wrestler in the same way you might talk to a painter or an actor or a musician about their performances (though often they are just as useless to sum up the answer to why their work is potent too) because there's still a business to protect. Besides, they don't think like that. It's just work, right?

Anyway. If you want to the TL:DR version, then here is the tweet that sums it all up.

5 STARS 5 FUCKING STARS 5 FUCKING STARS I LOVE PRO WRESTLING I LOVE NJPW I LOVE JADO I LOVE GEDO I LOVE SUZUKI I LOVE AJ #NJPW #G124
— Blacktus Jack (@BlacktusJack) August 1, 2014