Posted in: Sports, TV, WWE | Tagged: recaps, wrestling, WWE Raw

WWE Raw Review: Brock Lesnar Unretires as Clash in Italy Nears

Comrades, your El Presidente reviews WWE Raw, where Brock Lesnar destroyed Oba Femi, Jacob Fatu demanded Tribal Combat, and The Vision stood tall!

Greetings, comrades! It is I, your beloved El Presidente, reporting to you live from the rooftop helipad of my mountain fortress, where my loyal capybara Esteban is reclining beneath a parasol held aloft by a nervous intern who has not blinked in forty minutes. Last night's WWE Raw emanated from Greensboro, North Carolina, and I must tell you, comrades, the show was packed with the kind of family treachery, surprise returns, and corporate backroom skullduggery that I usually only see at G20 summits. This episode of WWE Raw built hard toward Saturday Night's Main Event and Clash in Italy, and your dictator-in-residence took copious notes between sips of contraband rum. Let us review the action together, comrades!

Roman Reigns, The Usos, and Jacob Fatu Open WWE Raw With Family Bloodshed

Comrades, nothing warms my heart like watching a family destroy itself on live television. Jacob Fatu stomped out to demand a confrontation with Roman Reigns, while Adam Pearce ran around backstage like a state department aide who has just realized the embassy is on fire. The Usos attempted diplomacy, which lasted approximately as long as my second cousin Ramón's failed 1987 coup attempt. Jey Uso swung a chair, Fatu retaliated, and then Roman and the brothers buried him under superkicks, Superman Punches, a 1D, and a spear. But here is the glorious part, comrades — Fatu rose from the wreckage and demanded Tribal Combat for the World Heavyweight Championship, and Roman accepted despite Pearce's protests. I once saw Kim Jong-il challenge his own brother to a karaoke duel under similar circumstances, and let me tell you, comrades, the loser was sent to manage a fertilizer plant. The stakes here are roughly equivalent.

Finn Bálor and JD McDonagh Engage in Glorious Workplace Violence

Finn Bálor and JD McDonagh beat the dignity out of each other in a Street Fight, using kendo sticks, chairs, tables, and the surrounding architecture of the arena. This is how comrades should resolve their differences, not through "human resources" or "mediation." Dominik Mysterio appeared to help JD, because Dominik appears everywhere uninvited, much like the CIA agents who once tried to disguise themselves as mariachi musicians at my niece's quinceañera. The interference backfired, JD ate the 619 by mistake, and Finn dropped a Coup de Grace on McDonagh while the poor man was trapped inside a trash can. Comrades, I have ordered many enemies of the state placed into receptacles over the years, but never with this level of theatrical flair. Beautiful work.

Seth Rollins Wants War, but Paul Heyman Wants Paperwork

Backstage on WWE Raw, Seth Rollins announced that he had no allies but planned to dismantle The Vision anyway, which is the sort of declaration I admire even when it is clearly going to end in disaster. He demanded Bron Breakker in the main event. But ah, comrades — enter Paul Heyman, that silver-tongued propaganda minister, who instead booked Austin Theory against Rollins and whispered to Bron that he could "run the play" later. I have heard this exact phrasing before, comrades, usually from CIA handlers offering me "agricultural assistance" while suspicious unmarked helicopters circled my palace. Heyman is operating at the highest level of bureaucratic villainy, and I salute him.

Sol Ruca Refuses to Be Bullied by Becky Lynch

Sol Ruca was being interviewed about her rough 0-2 start when Becky Lynch interrupted to suggest she pack her bags for NXT. Sol, refusing this smug little austerity speech, marched to the ring and demanded a match. Becky declined the immediate confrontation but accepted a non-title bout at Saturday Night's Main Event. Comrades, this was a perfectly executed segment. Becky is at her most enjoyable when she is being condescending to younger workers, and Sol carried herself like someone who simply does not have the proper training in being intimidated. I once tried to intimidate a young Daniel Ortega at a state dinner, and he just stared at me while eating an entire flan with his hands. Some people cannot be cowed, comrades.

El Grande Americano's Trios Tornado Match Confirms All My Suspicions

The Tornado Trios match featuring El Grande Americano, Rayo Americano, Bravo Americano, and their masked opponents was the chaotic lucha nonsense I crave from WWE Raw. El Grande Americano's team won when he hit Bruto with a loaded masked headbutt — a LOADED MASK, comrades! This is the kind of foreign object violation that confirms my long-standing theory that at least one of these Americanos is being remotely operated from a Langley basement. I once watched Fidel Castro attempt to negotiate a lucha libre cultural exchange program with a CIA operative posing as a promoter. It ended with three masks confiscated and one defector escaping in a hot air balloon. True story, comrades.

LA Knight Becomes the Self-Appointed Hallway Marshal of WWE Raw

LA Knight appeared twice on WWE Raw to issue stern advisories — first warning The Usos not to slip back into Bloodline misbehavior, then telling Rollins he respected the mission but would not be enlisting in it. Comrades, I respect a man who walks the corridors of power dispensing unsolicited warnings. It reminds me of myself, when I would tour the presidential palace explaining to the staff exactly how disappointed I would be if anyone tried anything. Knight has positioned himself as the show's roaming conscience, which is a strange but compelling deployment of one of WWE's biggest stars.

Ethan Page Forces Michael Cole to Read From a Script

Ethan Page sat down with Michael Cole and made the poor man read pre-written questions, which is exactly the kind of media manipulation I have spent decades perfecting in my own state-run broadcasts. Page announced he would defeat Penta and rename the Intercontinental Championship after himself, which is a level of egotism I find aspirational. Cole tried to push back about Page's ego, and Page reframed it as confidence — a rhetorical trick I once used to convince an entire United Nations subcommittee that my private zoo was actually a "wildlife research initiative." Page is doing fine work, comrades, even if his proposed championship rebrand reeks of capitalist privatization.

Paige and Brie Bella Retain, and Then Judgment Day Behaves Predictably

The WWE Women's Tag Team Title match on WWE Raw saw Paige and Brie Bella retain against Roxanne Perez and Raquel Rodriguez. Liv Morgan interfered and was promptly ejected by the referee, which in wrestling carries roughly the same weight as a UN resolution against one of my regional allies. Brie rolled up Roxanne to retain, and the match was solid. The champions seizing the means of tag team production warms my socialist heart, comrades.

Then, naturally, Liv returned with Roxanne and Raquel to ambush the champions until Bayley and Lyra Valkyria sprinted in to save the day. A good post-match angle, comrades — it kept Paige and Brie strong while keeping the women's division simmering with overlapping grudges. This is how a wrestling show should be structured. Every grievance must connect to two other grievances, like an enormous geopolitical web of unresolved beefs. I run my regime the same way.

Joe Hendry Leads the Workers in a "Fire Logan Paul" Chorus

Joe Hendry appeared on WWE Raw to conduct the Greensboro masses in a rousing "Fire Logan Paul" song, and comrades, my socialist heart soared. The people, united, demanding the dismissal of an annoying influencer through the power of communal song! This is the populist art form at its finest. I once led Hugo Chávez and a deeply confused Steven Seagal in a similar singalong at a state banquet, though the target was a regional finance minister rather than a YouTuber. The principle, comrades, remains the same.

Brock Lesnar Returns and Reduces Oba Femi to Rubble

Now we arrive at the true earthquake of WWE Raw, comrades. Oba Femi emerged for his open challenge, and before any brave volunteer could answer, Brock Lesnar appeared and absolutely demolished him with multiple F-5s. The man who calls himself "The Ruler" was, in turn, ruled upon. This was booked with the cold efficiency of a midnight palace coup, and I respected every second of it. Oba had been conquering everything in his path, including Lesnar himself at WrestleMania, so seeing The Beast crash back through the doors to flatten him was the kind of dramatic reversal I usually only see in my own succession planning meetings.

The follow-up was even better, comrades. Pearce demanded to know how Lesnar could possibly be back when retirement paperwork had supposedly been filed, and Heyman simply slithered into the office with a signed contract already in hand. Contracts appearing from nowhere! Retirements meaning nothing! Authority figures revealed to be powerless decorations! Comrades, this is the closest WWE has ever come to depicting an accurate cdictatorship onstitutional process, and I am deeply moved. Heyman announced that Lesnar challenged Oba for Clash in Italy, pending Oba's signature, which the poor man will surely provide once he regains the ability to grip a pen.

The Vision Closes WWE Raw Standing Over Everyone

In the WWE Raw main event, Rollins defeated Theory after surviving constant interference from Logan Paul. Theory nearly stole the victory, because that is what Theory does — he lurks near greatness like a vulture in a tank top. Rollins eventually hit the Pedigree to win, and then Logan attacked after the bell, because of course he did.

This is when WWE Raw delivered its closing punch. Angelo Dawkins ran out to help, followed by Montez Ford, and then Bron Breakker arrived and turned all three men into spear-flavored confetti. Bron even reached for the steel steps before officials and Pearce intervened. The Vision stood tall, comrades, and the show closed with the villains in absolute control. This is how a wrestling show should end heading into a big weekend — with the heroes broken on the canvas and the audience grinding their teeth. I felt the same satisfaction I felt the night I successfully nationalized the regional rum industry while my political opponents were trapped at a poorly-scheduled gala.

All in all, comrades, WWE Raw delivered a sturdy episode of television. It advanced multiple stories, brought back a legitimate beast in Lesnar, and gave us two enormous developments in Tribal Combat and The Vision's continued reign of terror. Was it a perfect show? No, comrades. Were there segments that felt like filler between the big moments? Of course. But WWE Raw had momentum, mayhem, and enough corporate manipulation to make Heyman look like the most powerful man in the building, which delights me. Until next time, comrades, this is your El Presidente, signing off from the helipad. Esteban demands a fresh papaya, and I must attend to the affairs of state. ¡Viva la lucha! ¡Viva Raw! ¡Viva la revolución!

Enjoyed this? Please share on social media!

Stay up-to-date and support the site by following Bleeding Cool on Google News today!