Antonio Inoki Makes Big Van Vader Bleed
Antonio Inoki Makes Big Van Vader Bleed
What can’t a wrestler do?
Antonio Inoki’s career and legend is built on proving that there’s nothing impossible for a pro wrestler at the height of their powers. The man’s entire promotional and in-ring ethos involved throwing himself against any challenge and overcoming. It’s that spirit, more than any individual in-ring choice like stiff strikes or tight submissions, that truly defines the idea I have of “strong style.” Inoki promoted his company as “The King of Sports” because that’s what he set out to prove—that pro wrestling held dominion over all combat, all athletics.
When one builds a career on doing the impossible, always coming out as the strongest style, the setbacks hold a hell of a lot more weight. To be specific, over 400 pounds of solid American beef in the form of Big Van Vader.
In 1987, Big Van Vader debuted in New Japan, demolished Antonio Inoki in under three minutes, and caused a riot in Sumo Hall. The riot would be so destructive that New Japan would receive a temporary ban from the venue in the coming years. There’s no disputing the riot and the consequences thereof, but the actual instigating point behind it is a little more mythmaking than fact. It’s not really just that fans were so enraged at this big man coming in to destroy their hero, they were also already riled up by the fact that the promoted main event for this show—a singles match between Inoki and longtime rival Riki Choshu—ended up going only six minutes with an unsatisfying disqualification finish at the end of it. Less heel heat than just some classic promotional trolling pushing the fans a little too far there.
Vader starting his run off by destorying Inoki’s no joke though. As far as setting a man up for success in New Japan, there’s few better ways. And mythmaking or not, the shadow of having been so thoroughly beaten can’t help but loom over Antonio Inoki’s legacy as he continued to wind down his in-ring presence in New Japan. One of the last wrongs that needs righting for the world to make sense.
A rivalry that’s equal parts legend and fact belongs in the Tokyo Dome. The sheer scale of it demands this sort of pageantry. Tens of thousands in attendance, under the bright lights, Antonio Inoki once again trying to do the impossible with only the power of pro wrestling by his side.
This match is big.
In basically every way, this match feels so befitting of its setting. There’s few better examples in history of what “stadium wrestling” could and should be. We get it all here, in a match that tells the classic David vs. Goliath narrative with bold, broad strokes. Very little about it feels subtle or detail oriented, and yet one can’t help but admire the construction of it all. Beat for beat, moment to moment, ramping up the tension as Inoki works to put this humiliating defeat behind him.
It’s worth noting Vader’s performance in this first. As one of pro wrestling history’s great big men, he plays a perfect antagonist to Inoki here. I’d forgotten since first watching this match not just how menacing he is, but what a bastard he is too. Cheap shotting Inoki before the bell is such a prick move, and taunting him to fight back on the ramp adds a little more flavor to this on top of the imposing size difference. I love too that Vader keeps it relatively simple here as well, focusing on all the hits—those big punches, the German Suplex, and then just ramping up violent slams late in the match.
It’s both men’s dedication to keeping things simple that leads to numerous iconic moments in the bout, few more attention grabbing than that massive German Suplex.
It’s just a perfect move. Not only does it look absolutely brutal, with Vader releasing on the throw so that Inoki folds in on himself, but that immediate close up of Inoki practically knocked out and dead on the mat is stunning.
Where Vader gets the most out of the violence though, I feel it’s Inoki that gets the most out of the sheer heart of this match. Offense wise, he plays a rather simple game here. He’s working to catch Vader in any opening he can, and it’s really impressive just how much his offense has to be built around evasion or taking advantage of small openings: things like ducking a lariat on the apron or slipping out of Vader’s clutches when he gets hoisted up. But perhaps most notably too is the desperation that Inoki brings here, going to a chair shot to the head towards the middle of the match.
This leads to one of my favorite moments in the match. Vader rises up from the skirmish on the floor, blood dripping down his face and chest. As soon as Inoki catches a glimpse of that flowing plasma, he can’t help but break out into a clap, bringing the Tokyo Dome alive with him. A truly special moment, in real time seeing a version of “If it bleeds, we can kill it.”
What’s so great is that merely wounding Vader isn’t enough here. If anything bloodying the big man up only makes him more pissed. It’s in the back half after that cut opens that Vader really gets to ramp up the violence. In particuar, those brutal open palm strikes of his that always feel like they land flush as punches. There’s also a big chokeslam that Inoki bumps for with almost as much intensity as he did the famous German Suplex. It’s hard to tell on the footage, but Inoki may have folded up so bad on the chokeslam bump that he knees his own face open, drawing some blood of his own.
Having both men bleeding at the final stretch really lends a raw, primordial sense of pro wrestling drama to it all. It feels so much more dire for Inoki, like a true do or die scenario. It’s not just the blood but he’s physical selling that leads to the increasing tension here. He’s able to properly kick out of the Vader Bomb, for example, but only just gets a shoulder up when Vader nails him with the moonsault instead. It’s such a small, simple change, but one that conveys volumes.
As with so much in wrestling, it’s about proportions and what’s appropriate to the moment too.
Inoki doesn’t need to make a massive comeback at the end when a simple arm bar so perfectly suits the narrative. A single opening, taken advantage of, to finally gain retribution for that night in Sumo Hall nearly a decade prior.
It really doesn’t get much more pro wrestling than that.
IS IT BETTER THAN 6/3/94? There’s a sense of restraint and escalation here that put it over the King’s Road bombast. While the bombs and finishing stretch of Kawada/Misawa may be a little more involved and intricate, Inoki and Vader sticking to their guns with the basics here in front of the Tokyo Dome crowd just feels a lot more cohesive and correct for the moment.
Rating: ****1/2