Survivor Series 2021: Good Wrestling Trapped Inside a Tired Idea

This is the match where the artificial Raw-versus-SmackDown premise suddenly stops mattering because Lynch and Flair bring a much more believable reason to fight. They begin with slaps, hair pulls and aggressive counters instead of a long feeling-out process, and the entire bout carries the useful illusion that either woman might decide to make the next exchange a little too real. The crowd senses it immediately.

The wrestling underneath that tension is excellent. Lynch has answers for Flair's power and athleticism, Flair keeps forcing Lynch to scramble, and the nearfalls are arranged so the match becomes more dramatic without becoming a finisher parade. The Manhandle Slam nearfall with Flair's foot reaching the rope is especially effective because it creates a clean visual reason for the match to continue.

The finish is the one obvious compromise. Flair tries to steal a pin with the ropes, gets caught, and Lynch succeeds at essentially the same trick moments later. It protects both champions and fits Lynch's opportunistic character, but it is a slightly cheap ending to a match that had earned a cleaner final statement.

Even with that caveat, this is the best match on the show and one of WWE's stronger women's singles matches of 2021. The animosity gives the technique electricity, and the technique keeps the animosity from becoming empty theater. That combination earns an A-.

The men's elimination match is thirty minutes of good wrestlers trying to give meaning to a format that the booking keeps undermining. Kevin Owens walking out in the opening minute is a fun character beat, but it also tells the audience that one of the participants cares so little about brand supremacy that he would rather leave. That is a dangerous joke to make at the stipulation's expense before the match has even started.

Once it settles, there is plenty to like. Bobby Lashley and Drew McIntyre create a physical centerpiece, Finn Bálor and Sheamus keep the pace moving, and Austin Theory gets useful exposure without being asked to carry the match. Jeff Hardy becomes the emotional engine late, with the Brooklyn crowd growing louder as the possibility of an improbable comeback starts to feel real.

The double count-out for Lashley and McIntyre is the biggest structural flaw. It protects both men but also removes two of the most important wrestlers without giving the match a satisfying competitive answer. Several later eliminations feel designed around protection in the same way, which makes the contest feel engineered rather than organic.

The Rollins-Hardy closing stretch is good enough to rescue the overall grade. Hardy's near comeback is over, Rollins survives without stealing the win, and the final Stomp lands as a proper ending. A B fits a match with strong work, a hot finish and too much booking machinery in the middle.

The battle royal has one clear purpose: make Omos look enormous. On that narrow assignment, it succeeds. He eliminates wrestler after wrestler, barely sells, and reaches the final sequence with Ricochet looking exactly like the giant WWE wants the audience to fear.

Almost everything surrounding that purpose is noise. Twenty-five wrestlers crowd the ring without creating many memorable pairings, AJ Styles spends much of the match avoiding danger, and the Rock anniversary branding never translates into anything meaningful inside the ropes. The eliminations blur together because the match rarely pauses long enough to create a story beyond Omos being bigger than everyone else.

Then the pizza arrives. The post-match sponsorship bit becomes more memorable than most of the actual wrestling, which is not a compliment to the wrestling. A battle royal can be silly and still be fun; this one feels like an advertising obligation that happens to contain eliminations.

The match is short enough to avoid becoming a disaster, and Omos does leave stronger than he entered. That keeps it above an F. A D is the right grade for a disposable segment with one successful piece of monster presentation.

This match is Survivor Series 2021 at its least complicated. Two champion teams get enough time to work a proper tag match, Riddle spends long stretches absorbing punishment, and Randy Orton waits for the moments where his entrance changes the temperature. The Usos are ideal opponents for that structure because they can control a match without making the pace feel dead.

Riddle's selling gives the bout its shape. Every time he appears close to escaping, Jey or Jimmy cuts him off and forces the next Orton tag to feel more valuable. Orton's offense is familiar, but the crowd wants every powerslam, draping DDT and RKO tease, which is exactly why the straightforward structure works.

The finish is terrific. Jimmy Uso launches for the splash on Riddle without realizing Orton has become legal, and the camera stays tight enough that Orton enters the frame almost simultaneously with the RKO. It is not a complicated idea, but the timing and production turn it into one of the night's cleanest highlights.

A B is appropriate because the match never reaches the emotional or technical level of the opener, yet it does almost everything it sets out to do. It is polished tag wrestling with a memorable finish and no unnecessary detour.

There is enough talent in this match to make the result frustrating. Bianca Belair, Sasha Banks, Rhea Ripley, Liv Morgan, Toni Storm, Shayna Baszler and Natalya can all anchor meaningful stretches, yet the match opens with Carmella's mask gag and spends too much time treating eliminations as storyline errands rather than competitive turning points. The crowd's interest fades noticeably.

The best portions come when Belair and Banks are allowed to interact because the audience immediately recognizes a rivalry with real history. Toni Storm also gets useful offense, and Liv Morgan has flashes where the match feels like it might find a stronger rhythm. Those pieces are scattered rather than accumulated.

The Banks count-out is the breaking point. Her own teammates keep her from returning, which creates drama inside Team SmackDown but also removes the most over wrestler on that side without a pin or submission. Belair then erases a four-to-one deficit quickly enough that the comeback feels more like a booking decree than a carefully built survival story.

Belair's athleticism and presence keep the closing stretch watchable, and the match is not technically poor. The C- reflects a bout that has competent work and a strong winner but repeatedly chooses contrivance over momentum.

The main event starts slowly, but in this case the pace serves the hierarchy. Reigns wrestles like the established ruler of WWE, taking time to stare Big E down and punish him methodically, while Big E has to force the match into his preferred gear. That creates a useful sense that the WWE Champion is trying to prove he belongs in Reigns' space rather than simply arriving there by title designation.

Once Big E begins stringing offense together, the match improves quickly. The apron spear, Stretch Muffler and Big Ending nearfall all give him credible paths to victory, and Reigns responds with the kind of escalating offense that has defined his title run. The bottom-rope save after the Big Ending is especially effective because it gives Big E a visual near-win without making Reigns look rescued by interference.

The clean finish matters. Reigns attacks the knee, survives Big E's last attempts to lift him, and lands the final spear without The Usos or Paul Heyman needing to manufacture the result. Big E loses, but the match treats him like a major champion rather than a temporary obstacle.

It is not quite an elite Reigns match because the opening third is deliberate to the point of dragging and the rivalry lacks deeper personal stakes. Still, the final half is strong, the winner is decisive, and Big E receives one of the best showcase losses of his championship reign. B+.