THE RAW REVIEW

On a show overflowing with experienced pro-wrestling talent, in a company designed to create “WWE Superstars” (which are, unavoidably, a particular brand of pro-wrestler) Stephen Amell, star of the hit comic book-inspired TV-series Arrow, was the most captivating part of the show.

That should never happen. An actor should not be able to come on RAW and show the roster how to perform.

I write that with the utmost respect (and genuine thanks) for what Amell gave me last night.

You entertained me.

THE RAW REVIEW

After Paul Heyman’s promo ended, I gently pushed the power button on my remote and walked away from the television. The more distance I put between myself and the television, the happier I became. The divorce from RAW felt merciful and proper.

Paige and Naomi were rolling around on the mat surrounded by their mean-girl-team-accompaniments while Michael Cole tried to convince me I was witnessing a “revolution”, and I decided I’d had enough.

THE RAW REVIEW

When Stephanie McMahon shouted “Noooooooo”, denying the fans their desired WWE World Heavyweight Championship match after having rallied them into an excited frenzy, my heart sunk and my enthusiasm for this episode of RAW could not recover. It became background noise. That is the affect the schizophrenia of RAW's characters and the back and forth nature of RAW's quality has on me. Heat is not earned by heels. Absolute disinterest is earned.

THE RAW REVIEW

RAW REVIEWSTim KailJuly 21, 2015the raw review, professional wrestling, monday night raw, wwe network, wwe, raw kansas city, brock lesnar, the undertaker, paul heyman, wwe blogs, pro wrestling podcast, pro wrestling blogs

THE RAW REVIEW

There is a parade in The City.

All make and manner of colorful float with costumed accompaniment nearby. Massive, bloated balloon animals coasting above the crowd, occasionally careening to the left and to the right, threatening to knock over a lamp or shatter a window before safely gliding back into place. Batons twirl and the air is covered with confetti, as if happiness itself has exploded in the center of The City. The marshall of the parade is a woman with dark hair and a self-satisfied smile. She raises her scepter in time with the punchy band-beat, and leads this mass of carnival joy from river to river.