Why did AJ Styles want cinematic matches during the pandemic?

AJ Styles recognized that without a live crowd to provide atmosphere, the product needed to pivot toward spectacle and cinematic storytelling. He saw the empty arenas as a reason to lean into nostalgic absurdity to keep fans engaged rather than attempting traditional technical matches.

What was the public reaction to AJ Styles' creative ideas?

Fan reactions were divided between supporters who viewed his plans as a necessary adaptation to a difficult era and critics who felt he was prioritizing nostalgia over wrestling craft. Some skeptics argued he was merely looking for high-profile matchups, while others praised his vision for realizing the necessity of producing a summer blockbuster-style experience.

How did the Boneyard match impact The Undertaker's final run?

The Boneyard match is considered one of the best moments of The Undertaker's final years because it used cinematic techniques like smoke and mirrors to replace the missing crowd energy. It provided a perfect and necessary bookend to his storied career that a standard grappling match could not have achieved.

Did AJ Styles prefer technical wrestling or cinematic spectacles?

Styles was known for his technical prowess, but during the pandemic, he treated professional wrestling like a puzzle to be solved. He consciously shifted his focus toward ambitious cinematic spectacles, believing this approach was the only way to effectively capture audience attention during the lockdown era.

What was the significance of the WrestleMania 36 Boneyard match?

The Boneyard match functioned more like an action short film than a traditional in-ring wrestling match. It allowed Styles and The Undertaker to perform for empty arenas without needing a live crowd to carry the atmosphere, ultimately saving the event by providing a unique and highly entertaining cinematic experience.

AJ Styles pitching dream matches before the Boneyard era

The pandemic era's creative saving grace

Remember 2020? The world was locked inside staring at walls, and professional wrestling was trying to figure out how to exist without fans screaming in the bleachers. Amidst the chaos, AJ Styles was doing his best work as a backseat booker.

Reports indicate that Styles was actively shopping ideas for legendary dream matches before landing on his cinematic masterpiece against The Undertaker at WrestleMania 36. He wanted the biggest names, the baddest icons, and the kind of spectacles that would make a jaded fan actually put their phone down for ten minutes.

The internet weighs in on Styles' hit list

Naturally, the fan forums have been an absolute riot since these pitches resurfaced. You have the purists who think Styles was trying to play dress-up with history, and then you have the reality-check crowd who understand the desperation of the pandemic era.

One Reddit user dropped a take that had me howling: "AJ knew exactly what he was doing. He saw the empty arena and realized the only way to get eyes on the product was to lean into the nostalgic absurdity. He didn't want a technical clinic; he wanted a damn summer blockbuster." It is hard to argue with that when you look at the recent reports on his mindset.

Then you get the contrarians who act like Styles was disrespecting the craft. "It felt like he was just trying to get a WrestleMania paycheck against guys who couldn't keep up," one message board regular typed, conveniently ignoring the fact that Styles has never had a bad match in his life. These people would complain about the lighting at a gold-medal performance.

Was the Boneyard match actually worth it?

Here is the hard truth that nobody wants to admit: the Boneyard Match was the best thing to happen to the Deadman in his final years. Without a live crowd to carry the atmosphere, we needed the smoke, the mirrors, and the shovel to make the match feel important.

Was it a traditional wrestling match with crisp chain wrestling? Absolutely not. It was a glorified action short film that just happened to feature two of the greatest performers to ever lace up boots. Some fans are still mad that we didn't get to see a 20-minute grappling clinic, which is just insane to me.

You are in a pandemic, the world is on fire, and you are complaining because you didn't get a headlock takeover in the middle of a graveyard? Get a grip. The cinematic style saved the card, and if we are being honest, it served as a perfect, weird, and necessary bookend to Taker's career.

The verdict on Styles' creative vision

AJ Styles has always been a guy who treats wrestling like a high-stakes puzzle. He saw the empty chairs in the Performance Center and understood that the format had to change to survive. His desire to work with icons was not out of some desperate need for relevance; it was a pivot toward spectacle.

I will give credit where it is due: the man's instincts were spot on. While some of his ideas for specific opponents might have been a bit too ambitious or perhaps physically impossible, he was the only one at the time actively trying to turn a boring situation into something worth watching. It is rare to find a top-tier performer who actually gives a damn about the long-term presentation of the show instead of just their own spot on the card.

Of course, not every cinematic attempt in that era landed. We had plenty of duds, and it took a while for the company to stop treating these matches like a joke. Still, you have to admire the nerve it takes to walk into a creative meeting and suggest you should dig a grave for The Undertaker. Most guys are lucky if they get a mid-card title shot, and this guy was trying to film horror movies in the middle of a national crisis.

Ultimately, Styles proved that he can adapt to any environment, even one where he is staring at a crypt instead of a camera lens. Whether you think his pitch for more legends was a stroke of genius or just sheer boredom, you have to respect the hustle. He swung for the fences when everyone else was just trying to bunt to stay in the game. That is why he is still at the top level while others faded into the background noise of the post-pandemic reshuffle.