Was that John Cena-AJ Styles ‘Love Letter to Professional Wrestling’ an instant classic?

Last Saturday, WWE headed to Perth, Australia, for “Crown Jewel.” While the premium live event has historically emanated from Saudi Arabia, the Australian fans were treated to two matches pitting the respective men’s and women’s world championships against one another, for the ornamental Crown Jewel Championship (which resides at WWE Experience in Riyadh).

In those encounters, Seth Rollins finally bested Cody Rhodes, while the newly crowned Stephanie Vaquer defeated Tiffany Stratton.

But it was the final installment in the John Cena-AJ Styles rivalry that stole the show. 

The match has been hailed as a love letter to professional wrestling and canonized as an instant classic. ESPN’s Andreas Hale called the match “as good as it gets.” Even The Undertaker heaped praise on their performance, calling the match “a masterclass and beautiful tribute to wrestling.”

As of writing this article, the match has a 9.07 rating on Cagematch, which is the seventh highest in Cena’s career and 16th for Styles. It’s rare to see WWE matches pervade the medium’s zeitgeist in a way that this has.

For decades, the promotion’s house style has relied on familiar moves and recognizable shifts in momentum to elicit a Pavlovian response.

Roman Reigns has often described great wrestling as being “cinematic.” And, while Triple H and Shawn Michaels extol the artifice of storytelling, the end result is often bereft of nuance – creating something that is both digestible and easily understood.

In Reigns’ analogy, WWE produces big summer blockbusters, not the works of Paul Thomas Anderson or Martin Scorsese. 

There are exceptions to the rule. While the system often produces vapid commercial juggernauts like “Avatar” or “Star Wars: The Force Awakens,” it occasionally yields films like “The Dark Night” or Greta Gerwig’s “Barbie.” The general consensus is that the WWE “universe” believes this match is the latter.

For the sake of transparency, I wouldn’t consider myself a fan of the WWE. I haven’t even avidly watched the product since “WrestleMania 40.” When I launched my first podcast, “Petree’s Pit,” last year, I half-heartedly watched WWE for the sake of engagement, but my patience quickly ran thin.

My aforementioned critique of its house style aside, there are a multitude of reasons why I don’t support the promotion.

Those reasons are, but certainly not limited to:

1. Triple H and the McMahon family’s ties to Donald Trump. 
2. The absurd inflation of their live event ticket prices.
3. Their relationship with Saudi Arabia: a totalitarian regime that is uniquely misogynistic and executes its dissidents.
4. Their decision to bring back Brock Lesnar, who the Wall Street Journal identified as being implicated in Vince McMahon’s ongoing sex trafficking lawsuit with Janel Grant. 

One of the few glimmers of hope was CM Punk, who had been my favorite wrestler for nearly two decades. That was, until he publicly apologized to the people of Saudi Arabia for his previous condemnations of the WWE’s relationship with the kingdom. While Triple H praised Punk for his maturity, the apology seemed antithetical to the self-proclaimed “Cult of Personality’s” credo that I found so endearing as a young man. While Punk is still unequivocally one of wrestling’s most entertaining stars, there’s no denying the inherent hypocrisy.

Punk’s apology was a symptom of a grander issue. Artistic integrity isn’t the WWE’s North Star. Instead, it’s attracted to the allure of the almighty dollar. No star has more perfectly encapsulated that in the 21st century than John Cena. For the last two decades, he’s been a family entertainer – burdened by the challenge of broad popularity.

AJ Styles benefited from being the face of the alternative. From the Murphy Recreation Center to the Tokyo Dome, Styles spent the first 18 years of his career honing his craft without compromising his vision for professional wrestling. However, it was his days as the ace of TNA where Styles became a household name – elevating a divisionless style of wrestling national prominence.

When Styles finally arrived in the WWE in 2016, he became the perfect foil for Cena: the ultimate outsider, challenging a man who embodied an unflinching institution. The rivalry yielded extraordinary matches, particularly at “SummerSlam” in 2016 and then again five months later at the “Royal Rumble.” 

It was only natural that Cena circled back to Styles.

While Cena only has four dates left on his farewell tour, Styles’ time is similarly finite. During the promotion for this match, Styles announced that 2026 will mark the end of his professional career. So, there’s a sense of finality that wasn’t lost on either performer.

There’s also a significance that overshadows both performers. Cena and Styles were the flag-bearers for WWE and TNA, respectively, the two largest promotions in American wrestling. Within them both is a confluence of experiences and relationships that have informed their careers.

That dichotomy took center stage in the plotting of this match. Michael Cole and Wade Barrett discussed their intimate familiarity as competitors – insight that breeds anticipation. That is evident early in the match, when Styles repelled Cena’s Five Knuckle Shuffle with an upkick.

From there, an extended period begins – where both men almost exclusively trade their former rival’s finishing maneuvers.

Cena used the Skull Crushing Finale, Camel Clutch, Walls of Jericho, Sister Abigail, Vintage Orton, RKO, Chokeslam and Tombstone Piledriver. He even teased both the Pedigree and 619, but was unable to fully employ either move.

AJ Styles used the Stinger Splash, Scorpion Death Drop, Coquina Clutch, Angels Wing, Fade to Black and Sweet Chin Music (aside from tuning up the band, it looked more like James Storm’s Last Call than Michaels’ superkick, but who’s keeping score).

Therein lies both the unique charm and source of intense debate surrounding this match. When does the artifice of tributing encroach the realm of mockery? In this instance, it’s when it becomes profuse.

I’m not averse to wrestlers employing their rivals’ finishing maneuvers. The problem is the entire match seemed structured around the narrative device. In fact, more than half of the 27-minute contest was dedicated to this prolonged segment. This was more than two wrestlers playing the hits or paying homage to their contemporaries. It was an exercise in excess.

That doesn’t mean the match wasn’t without its own charm. There’s a frivolity to this backyard, trampoline style that the WWE often lacks. Cena and Styles were free to express themselves in a way that’s seldom seen from the industry leader, even if it did lack a deft hand.

Rating: ***¾