I Attended Netflix's WWE Raw Premiere Event, and I Can't Wait to See Where This Goes

The world of professional wrestling achieved a significant milestone on Monday when WWE Raw officially moved to Netflix. After three decades on the air, this marks the first time World Wrestling Entertainment's weekly live show has been made available for streaming audiences to watch. The 3-hour premiere episode featured appearances by fan favorites like Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson (aka the Final Boss), John Cena, Cody Rhodes, Roman Reigns, Logan Paul and many more.

Viewers from around the globe streamed the event live, which is a game-changer in and of itself for WWE. It opened the doors for the audience to grow exponentially. "Welcome to Monday Night Raw," Paul "Triple H" Levesque said with his signature growl to kick off the show. "Welcome to the Netflix era."

I was among the more than 17,000 lucky fans at the Intuit Dome in Los Angeles. The vibe in the building was nothing short of electric, thanks to the boost in production budget, celebrity appearances and action-packed matches. After a long hiatus away from the art form (to paraphrase the Rock), Finally... Aaron has come back to the world of professional wrestling. 

It only took three decades, but who's counting?

Like many kids who grew up in the '80s, I was hooked on professional wrestling. The company, then known as WWF (World Wrestling Federation), boasted a larger-than-life roster that delivered weekly comic book-like storytelling. I may not have been old enough to comprehend the full scope of how the business worked, but it didn't matter. I was a fanatic about it all. 

I can recount the watershed moment when wrestling became a mainstay in my household: Hulk Hogan body-slamming Andre the Giant during Wrestlemania III. It was the first-ever pay-per-view event I had experienced, and it created a unique bond between myself and my mother during a time when there was significant turmoil in my family. I could count on this escapism, a continuous means of storytelling that pitted good versus evil that I could be emotionally invested in when the real world continually let me down. 

It was an incredible time to be a professional wrestling fan. When I learned that the sport was fake, I immediately abandoned it.

Read more: Netflix Review: Our Top Choice in a Crowded Market

Nearly all of the attitude era blew right past me. By the time Stone Cold Steve Austin and The Rock were the big names on WWE's roster, professional wrestling was in my rearview. I'm not alone.

WWE's move to Netflix can be described as historic, and I heard this word often during my evening at the Intuit Dome. The attendance numbers, pivot to a streaming model and noticeable bump in production quality collectively support the event's significance. 

Regarding the show itself, an urgent excitement helped carry things from match to match. The show's structure didn't massively change from its days on the USA Network, but there were little differences that I'd call improvements to the product. Most notable was the dedicated camera work that kept things moving throughout the night. Multiple drones passed over my head, capturing unique angles that helped elevate Raw to a more immersive experience for viewers at home.  

The elimination of pay-per-view programming and premium events has leveled the playing field for WWE, resulting in a Monday Night Raw that felt like a pay-per-view-worthy show. Because of that, the show didn't have a solid running time, further fueling the excitement of the evening. 

Everything felt top-tier, from Triple H's introduction and The Rock's (aka the People's Champ, aka the Final Boss) appearance to the quality of the night's matches. Roman Reigns versus Solo Sikoa was a battle that felt like a main event; Rhea Ripley defeating Liv Morgan for the Women's Championship Belt was thoroughly satisfying; CM Punk going toe-to-toe with Seth "Freaking" Rollins was a riveting closer. And when Jey Uso is in the building, it's nearly impossible not to bounce along with him while yelling "Yeet!" in solidarity.

After three decades away from the fandom, I am back in the thick of it. My young mind didn't understand that professional wrestling is live theater when all is said and done. It's storytelling in its most engaging and raw (no pun intended) form. The writing team works tirelessly behind the scenes to deliver a weekly live show that helps build new storylines, cultivate existing ones and generate palpable heat for viewers to engage with. 

Every show may be orchestrated or have a certain level of choreography, but that's what makes it so good. I'd even go so far as to say wrestling isn't wrestling at all; the stories create the conflict between performers that sparks every match. When it fires on all cylinders, the experience becomes a spectacle. When I call this an art form, I mean it. 

I will always be nostalgic about the professional wrestling era of my youth. Without that time in the business, we wouldn't have reached where WWE is now: the Netflix Era. 

What exactly does that term mean? It feels like a rebirth of sorts. Gone is the air of pretense that made these in-ring battles feel otherworldly to my young eyes. There's a refined focus on the work promos to the riveting exchanges in the ring. This isn't a completely off-the-rails uncensored affair, though. Many children were in attendance at the Intuit Dome, confirming that through each noteworthy era, WWE programming is still a family affair.

Needless to say, I've again found myself energized by the sport that comforted me as a child. If Monday's Raw is a clue of what WWE will look like on Netflix, I am excited to see what comes next.