There’s a coldness to Bret Hart’s ring work.
That works both for and against him in various contexts. I think that at times, it puts a ceiling on his performances when he’s not quite able to tap into a certain level of emotional intensity in his matches. Think back to some of the most famous matches of Bret’s career, and while one might attach emotion to it, I find that Bret himself doesn’t convey it in his performances. Instead, I think of things like The British Bulldog celebrating his title win in England or Owen Hart smugly basking in his victory over his brother at WrestleMania X. Even moments that should center on Bret himself like his Intercontinental Championship or WWF Championship wins don’t evoke much from The Hitman.
This isn’t necessarily a flaw though. In the best case scenario, it’s a massive part of his appeal. Bret Hart, both the performer and the character, is always in control. There’s a sense of intention behind everything that he does. That’s how Bret Hart wins matches—he formulates smart strategies and chips away at the problem until victory’s inevitable. As a performer whose in-ring philosophies center so much on a logical progression of action, it’s no surprise then that the character manifests that same demeanor. At its best there’s a very comforting effect that this has on a viewer. It’s always good to root for someone that we know can get the job done, and do so with a cool head and a quiet self-confidence.
That’s a big part of why Stone Cold Steve Austin is Bret Hart’s best opponent. No one could ever accuse peak Austin of being cold or inexpressive. Every movement’s bursting with charisma, his energy explodes past the screen. It’s an insane level of intensity in even the smallest in-ring actions that both compensates for and contrasts Bret’s persona. It’s the push and pull of that dynamic that makes their matches stand out in both men’s very stacked careers.
Of course, from that body of work, none stands out more in the pro wrestling canon than the famed submission match from WrestleMania 13.
This is one of those matches that’s impossible to really write about. Since the day it happened, it’s enjoyed widespread critical acclaim and a guaranteed spot in the history books. Its reputation has only grown with time, often being pointed to as one of the catalysts for the hottest and most successful era of pro wrestling ever. There simply isn’t anything left to say about a match that everyone not named Colette Arrand has already seen about a dozen times.
On my latest viewing of the match, it’s that interplay of Austin’s heated explosiveness against Bret’s cooler method that stood out the most. The conflict informs the structure of the match itself as well as the famous double turn within. A large part of what makes the match so great is how both men go about seizing the advantage.
For Austin, it’s about overwhelming the Hitman with his explosiveness. He ambushes Bret at the bell, forcing a hot start and a wild brawl into the crowd. Later on, he breaks up a lengthy Bret control segment with a crazed swing of a steel chair. He claws at Bret’s eyes to break up a Sharpshooter attempt, he swings with a big low blow to halt Bret’s punches in the corner. It’s a lot of big, scrappy movement for Austin that keeps him alive in this match.
Bret’s match involves weathering the storm that is Austin’s fury, and finding openings that he can exploit for all their worth. After the frenzied brawl that opens the match, Austin goes to lift one of the steel steps to bash Bret with, which leaves him vulnerable to Bret kicking his knee in.
What follows might be one of my favorite leg work segments ever. Bret approaches it with a calmness that delicately walks the line between efficiency and malice. Bret never overindulges in the punishment he dishes out, but he executes it with a clinical proficiency that highlights his more methodical disposition perfectly.
In his biography, Hitman, Bret describes himself in this match as a “cool killer.”
It’s an apt description for the performance here. Bret goes about picking apart Austin’s leg with the icy fascination of a serial murderer. It’s evident in how he stalks a hobbled Austin around the ring, battering at his leg with both his array of offense as well as the objects at ringside.
It’s Bret’s method that wins out in the end. He’s always able to find a way to use Austin’s energy against him. When Austin throws Bret to the floor, it gives Bret the chance to whip Austin into the guardrail and provide us the classic image of the bloodied Stone Cold trying to survive the match. Now with the cut pouring blood, Austin’s disadvantaged on two fronts—loopy from blood loss and Bret’s attack, and nursing a bad knee from Bret’s leg work.
In the end, it’s Bret having a concrete strategy that wins him the day. Austin came in trying to brute force his way to victory, a narrative that commentary emphasizes with the idea that Austin was looking to just literally beat Bret into submission. Bret took a more patient approach though, picking apart the leg to set up the Sharpshooter, and capitalizing on Austin’s open wound to eventually lead to Austin passing out.
It’s really no wonder that this match has endured after all these years. The match perfectly utilizes both men’s strengths and dials them all the way up. Austin’s crackling, electric charisma combined with Bret’s eye for structure and composition leaves us with a match that more than earns it classic status.
As we all know, the presentation doesn’t really end when the bell rings.
A strange thing had happened in my memory before my most recent watch of this match. For some reason, coming into the match, I remembered the climactic double turn differently. We all know that Bret locks on the Sharpshooter and forces Austin to pass out instead of submit. But the details of the post-match had shifted in mind. I remembered the double turn as Bret keeping a hold of the Sharpshooter beyond the bell, and being forcibly removed from Austin as the big double turn moment. I must have confused it with the Bret/Lawler match from SummerSlam 1993 where Bret refuses to let go of the Sharpshooter and ends up getting disqualified as a result.
It’s in this little slip of the memory that I found the last thing to appreciate from Bret’s cooler approach to the match. Keeping the Sharpshooter on Lawler in 1993 was something that Bret did out of anger that calcified into a steely determination to just keep hurting Lawler. One can see it as a break from the norm for Bret, getting too caught up in the moment to see reason.
Here at WrestleMania 13, Bret gets his victory and lets go of Austin. This means there’s another layer of intention behind him going up to our hero and stomping him while he’s down. This isn’t Bret getting swept up in anger and refusing to let go, it’s Bret going out of his way to inflict more humiliation and punishment on his rival. It’s that added layer of agency and choice that makes the heel turn so much more effective. In this moment, it means everything that Bret Hart has such clear self-control. This isn’t a man who’s lost himself.
He knows exactly what he’s doing, and that makes all the difference.
IS IT BETTER THAN 6/3/94? Toshiaki Kawada’s performance reminds me of Austin’s in this match. In 6/3/94, he’s this charismatic underdog on the cusp of greatness who gets rebuffed by an opponent who responds with a cool destructive touch. That being said, Misawa’s calm isn’t supported by the same technical precision as Bret. Misawa’s much more of a blunt mountain to climb, whereas Bret attacks with the precision of a scalpel. Better leg work, a more cohesive narrative, and a much better bloodletting (however cool ear blood may be), means that Bret and Austin take the win here.
Rating: *****
It happend that from some reason I was watching this match a few weeks ago and I just stumbled last night on BIG EGG via Joseph's twitter. Wow, what an unbelievable essay. Can't wait to go through the rest.
By the way, you mentioned "Hitman", Bret's autobiography. It has been on my Amazon's wish list for quite some time, is it a good book? Might be time to get my hands on it.
I really enjoyed this essay-Bret Hart always struck as unfeeling in his matches at time, and this really puts that into words well.