Mio Momono Enters the Thunderdome

Mio Momono vs Mayumi Ozaki Oz Academy 4/28/24

MD: Back when I was making my Greatest Wrestler Ever ballot in 2016, I decided that if I couldn't understand a wrestler and a style in as 360 a way as possible, I wasn't going to try to rank them. There was only so much that I could fit in timewise and I set the burden of knowledge pretty high for myself. Certain things like shootstyle ended up completely left out because I just didn't think I was good enough to rank them at my current level of knowledge. That said, I did do a podcast with the brilliant Stacy going over our lists called Parejas Increibles, and as part of that, I wanted to be at least somewhat familiar with some of the people I knew would be on her list so we could have something resembling an intelligent conversation. I watched a chunk of Ozaki's big 90s matches, came off really impressed, just connected with her instantly, and then decided to peek at the 00s matches and even what she was doing currently in the mid-2010s. Why not, right? I was enjoying Negro Casas in his older age on a week in and week out basis after all.

That, in the moment, ended up being a mistake. Anyone familiar will know why. It feels like it's been two decades of blatant interference and a level of one-sided violence that comes off as gratuitous at best (at best!) and drowns into noise at it runs not just from match to match but from year to year to year. Again, I'm no expert, but that was my take as a dabbler, as someone who took a look here and there driven by honest curiosity and regard for the JWP work that I had initially seen. So I moved on and didn't give it another thought.

That is until I saw people pushing this match in the last week and I realized due to scheduling issues, I was going to have a window to talk about something out from left field like this. Let's get some caveats out of the way. There's an existing story here with previous matches that were highly regarded that lead into this moment; I'm not tuned into it. I haven't seen them. I still had such a positive visceral reaction to this I wanted to write about it in a bubble, to just get down my feelings. I have a working knowledge of Ozaki in very general terms, but only that. She's worked over a hundred matches in the 2020s and I haven't seen any of them. When it comes to Momono, I have a very basic understanding of just the idea of her. I am a tourist here in Oz Academy. I came in unaware, unprepared, with some preconceived notions and carried in on the opinions of people I trust. You can read a few reviews of this from people who actually know what they're talking about. I'm probably going to offend and annoy a couple of them, and I do apologize for that.

But it's okay, because this was primal and iconic, and as a one time encounter, all of the beleaguered, gratuitous, borderline exploitative bullshit actually worked. What carries this and what makes this work, when I can imagine so much else that happens in this building does not work, is the fact that Momono is an outsider as well. This is Mio Momono defiantly entering the Thunderdome to face The Lizard Queen and the Ruler of Bartertown. I picked up on the idea that she had obtained a tainted, darkened championship as leverage to get her own title back (or something like that; close enough is good enough here). She was headed into enemy territory, where they chanted Ozaki's name, where they celebrated her ruthlessness, where they had been formed and forged in her image. You could see the determination on her face, the defiance, the knowledge of what was before her. She had the PowerPuff Girls banner, her fuzzy hood up, the corrupt, chain-strewn belt over one shoulder, the Marvelous flag over the other, as if she was marching up foreboding stairs of doom towards some temple of depravity, some illicit den of sin. This wasn't some normal sort of pro wrestling story. This was an 80s action movie. This was Streets of Fire or Big Trouble in Little China. This was Sting entering the bar where Cheatum the Midget was going to let him Spin the Wheel and Make a Deal. This was post-apocalyptic mayhem, a hero walking through the very gates of hell to fight for what mattered to her.

And then there's Ozaki. Much of what made this work for me was that she was no longer simply doing this sort of thing in her late 30s or mid 40s. This was a 55 year old, in her red feathered robe, soaking in the adulation and egging it on, invoking all of this senseless wrath and violence. There was such character in her expression as she took it all in. For as much as Toni Storm is aping What Ever Happened to Baby Jane right now, Ozaki is living it, with all the presence of a pro wrestling Joan Crawford (even if maybe not a Bette Davis). There's never been a villain quite like her, and here she is, in her place of power, where reality comports to her will, the evil queen upon the throne, with an upstart that dares challenge her to punish.

Momono charges right in, gets an early advantage slamming Ozaki's head repeatedly into the corner, but Ozaki just shrugs it off and returns the favor. They slap each other, tear at each other, lay in blows. Ozaki gets a fair advantage and hefts Momono up, but she flips over. Here's where the usual chaos would come into play. POLICE (he who is what he sounds to be, uniform and all) comes in with a chair. This is what pushed me away when I dabbled previously. It's not even two minutes in and here comes the bullshit. Here, though I stuck with it, rode the wave, and I am glad I did. He errantly hits Ozaki with a chairshot meant for Momono; one of her friends takes out POLICE and Momono follows up with her twisting 'rana into a pin for an early, exciting nearfall. But POLICE is still there, just outside, and he immediately thereafter snatches a leg. That allows Ozaki to grab the chair and smash Momono to the floor, allowing for darkness to seep in and become ascendant.

There are two elements that allows this to transcend the normal formless chaos and violence and interference of the other 21st century Ozaki matches I've seen. The first I already mentioned. Momono is an outsider. After getting smashed and opened up, they place the collar around her neck. That allows Ozaki to drag her around the arena, to toss her into stairs, to whallop her with a chain-wrapped punch. This is the ritual bloodletting, the pound of flesh that the congregation requires as it chants Ozaki's name. Momono, valiant and good, is the sacrifice, buried under chairs and chairshots, only to rise back up, baptized in her own blood, ready to throw missile dropkicks into Ozaki's skull and tear at her arm in her comeback.

The second is that somehow, amazingly, all of the interference is carefully layered and timed. There's a bit of slippage here and there, but at times this almost felt like watching a lucha trios match. I'm careful about overusing this phrase, and I wish I had something better but nothing explains it as well: in lucha trios matches the beatdowns and comebacks often hinge on the mandate of heaven. That is, something happens that allows the tide to roll in or out when wrestling physics itself prevents it before that. That's the case here. It's not until Ozaki can get a backhand to cut off Momono that her minions are able to stream in. It's not until she misses a dive off the top that Momono's friends can stream in. The tide had already turned. Each of these elements need to be set up and each gets paid off or eliminated in order. For Ozaki's minions, it's when they miss Momono with the (second) double whip attack and hit Ozaki instead. That leads to the two of them getting written off. For POLICE, it's not until Momono is able to hit him with a low blow that her ally can come in and eliminate him once and for all. The interference exists, but the key story beats, the bits that are consequential, are not the interference but instead Ozaki and Momono defining their own fates. 

Occasionally the chaos that lives in this sacrilegious place slips through, like when bodies crash upon Momono and Ozaki to break up a pin after Ozaki destroyed Momono with the chain and hit her with a bridging suplex, but for the most part, that's the exception and maybe even one that helps define the rule. These are two primal forces, good and evil, warring against one another in the darkest corner of the world, where despite all appearances, free will and autonomy still matter most. In the end, Ozaki truly takes such matters into her own hands, eliminating Momono's last friend with the red mist before finally dropping her for the win.

It was a valiant effort, one to be remembered, but Momono would not dethrone the queen in her place of power on this day. This shouldn't have worked, but the core story was so strong and the attention to detail so astoundingly rhythmic that it was undeniable. There was meaning and purpose in violence that should have felt senseless. There was a throughline of almost mythic coherence to be found in the chaos. The code balanced. All of the open parentheses were closed. Momono's defiance shined through. Ozaki's core qualities, some of the greatest of all time when tempered and channeled, presented themselves triumphantly even in the cacophony of self-indulgent, sadistic mayhem that she's spent decades so lovingly fostering. I'm in no rush to return to Oz Academy, but on this one night, the stars were in alignment to create the stuff of pro wrestling legend.

JR: Peter Pan was written to be monstrous. He is described sparingly in the book, but when he is, the imagery is ghostly: dressed in skeleton leaves and the juices of trees and held together by cobwebs. When he appears in Wendy’s room, he is gnashing his baby teeth. We think of Pan now as a vision of the irrepressible nature of youth. There are moments when he is crueler than that.

Momono is Pan-like here, is she not? She screams and runs and has energy that seems otherworldly. She is crying and bleeding but until the very end it’s unclear if anything will stop her. She can fly. She can fight. She is held together with neon athletic tape, fake fur and glitter.

Would Ozaki make for a good Captain Hook? Her endless parade of semi-effectual hench people, her hand wrapped in metal. Her hatred of Momono seems ingrained to the point where I’m not sure she could tell you why it began. It just is.

Momono feels mythic in this match. Like a superhero or a gunfighter, facing waves of attackers single handedly in order to get a mere opportunity to dispense justice. Ozaki is a wonderful foil. Villainous and laconic, but never lazy or cowardly. The heel main event structure with endless interference has been a staple for years now. Here it at least feels purposeful. Planned and necessary in the face of a young and angry and talented foe. The act feels earned for Ozaki in a way it often does not for others. She relishes in fighting on her terms. She looks at Momono throughout with something bordering on curiosity: You agreed to this? Okay. In some way, this Ozaki performance is like the platonic ideal of what Jericho has tried and failed to do for the past few years. They are former stars finally abandoned by their athleticism. They have now transformed into crowbars but in their most egotistical moments they can still be goaded into going toe to toe with someone younger and better. More than anything, they are defined by loss. The moments Ozaki feels the most vulnerable in this are the moments when she forgets who she is now.

Ultimately, this is a story of what Ozaki has lost and what Momono has yet to gain. For all her boundless violence, her ability to bounce back, Momono often lacks a sense of where she is. She walks into chair shots. She takes a backhand when a more seasoned performer would step back or roll away. If Ozaki’s weakest moments are based in hubris, Momono is a mirror. She believes she can run through anything until she cannot. Even as she wins, Ozaki is rattled. She sees herself. Momono is unafraid of violence. She is fueled by it. Even in defeat she is terrifying and monstrous, held together by fairy dust and gnashing her teeth.