WWE Unreal Season 3 Review - Finding Happiness And Truth In A Mad World

Unreal is such a perfect name for the show.

WWE Unreal Season 3 is the latest pro wrestling curtain jerk highlighting the real lives, trials, make-up routines (so much make-up), injuries and wardrobe changes of today’s World Wrestling Entertainment superstars.

Brief disclaimer: I’m a mark, a very happy mark. I was raised on Mid-South wrestling and the UWF. I have been to the Von Erich (Adkisson) gravesites. I have worn the face paint of my favorite wrestler. My college roommate can recite the history of the Brass Knuckles championships (yes, it was a real title). I enjoyed it then. I enjoy it now. I will continue to enjoy it in the future.

While Unreal proclaims to break kayfabe – the old-fashioned term where we pretend like it’s all real – in reality, WWE Unreal shows fans what WWE wants to be real.

The main star of the first two episodes is the one and only John Cena. He was on his farewell tour in 2025 and it is well chronicled. Cena is hailed as the GOAT (cough, cough, Flair), a 17x champion, Hustle, Loyalty and Respect. He was a generational star who has crossed over into the mainstream. Who doesn’t like John Cena?

But farewell tours can get messy.

Cena, as comfortable on camera as any human being alive, explains his aspirations for his farewell tour. The biggest thing he talks about is his connection with the audience (top 5 of any performer all time) and how it’s his job to feed off that, give it back and spread it to the next person coming into the spot.

(Unreal is always talking about ‘spots.’ Wrestlers are always moving up into ‘spots’ or down into ‘spots’ a big move is called a ‘spot.’ There’s always this fear that you’re going to lose your ‘spot.’)

Cena, his spot assured at the top of the card, is turned heel in one of the biggest jaw-dropping moments in recent WWE history. And for sure, there was always a subsection of fans who wanted to see what that would look like.

Then, we saw what it looked like and we didn’t like it. Cena went a bit too ‘method’ with his heel persona, becoming cold, mean, and detached to the audience that loved him. In a way, it worked, it generated heat (attention) but no one really bought it. No matter how much it tries, the WWE still underestimates its audience.

After 20 years, we knew Cena. We caught every aside, every sideways glance, every one of his promos that had a perfect line. We weren’t gonna buy Cena as a real bad guy, he had told us and shown us for 20 years that he was having fun. Heels don’t look like they’re having fun. Even if that wasn’t the ‘real’ John Cena, he was what we wanted him to be.

Through a bunch of convoluted ways (never shown) Cena returns to the babyface ranks. He has a series of matches against old rivals. The AJ Styles match is epic (but Unreal doesn’t show the special pre-match ‘announcement’ of Styles accomplishments that included when he was a non-WWE character). The Domenik Mysterio match? Above average. R Truth? Well, sure.

Then in his lifetime finale (for now, never say never in this business) Cena taps out to WWE’s cold-blooded killer Gunther. Cena’s last moment was pondered and scripted. The camera is in position to see Cena’s sly smile and taps on Gunther’s forearm just so.

In wrestling tradition, this is what someone like Cena does. They pass the torch. It’s good for business to push the next guy into the higher spot, setting up the next big payday.

When it happened, I was on board with the decision. But in retrospect, I don’t like it. On Unreal, Cena spends so much time talking about connecting with the audience and doing what it wants (like all the homages hit in the AJ Styles match) but doesn’t he know the audience wanted him to win? And it’s not like Cena hadn’t lost matches in his farewell tour. Lesnar rag dolled him. Cody Rhodes beat him for the belt.

In this case, the WWE underestimated its audience. You’ve taught us. We know what the rules are. That’s why the biggest pops are for the biggest swerves when the rules – even the inside ones – get broken.

Outside of the Cena storyline, Unreal highlights the journey of Liv Morgan, who steals an episode with her animal farm in Florida and wide eyes. There’s an awkward scene with Chelsea Green, her husband (and indy legend) Matt Cardona and his batch of toys.

Seth Rollins gets injured and you’re sympathetic when one of the first things he says is what month is it. Because he’s already thinking about his timetable to get back for WrestleMania.

Young star Bron Breakker also comes across as a sympathetic figure. His spot is ascending when he gets injured and has to disappear from the scene. He comes across as one of the most real figures in Unreal.

Brock Lesnar is a side character in one of the main – and best – narratives in the series on the rise of young behemoth Oba Femi, but Brock is never interviewed on camera, lest WWE have to ask him about the horrible allegations that have followed him late in his career.

(There’s also a curious decision to omit the gigantic moment – in storyline – of Lesnar leaving his boots in the ring after losing at WrestleMania to Femi, like one would think the retirement of one of your biggest stars would at least rate a mention).

The star of the series becomes CM Punk. WWE turns a storyline fight with Rollins into a way to bring back Punk’s real-life wife AJ Lee to battle Rollins real-life wife Becky Lynch. Lee and Punk’s genuine affection for one another is genuine and sweet.

There is a subplot with Punk and Lee losing their beloved elderly dog Larry. Tears fall. Real tears. Punk shows off his new tattoo and wears a jacket to the ring saying Larry’s father. A reminder that no matter how big, strong and tattooed these characters are, they do have feelings and empathy.

That’s why my favorite moments in all of the Unreal seasons are the backstage scenes in the “Gorilla Position” as the matches are watched, orchestrated and problems are solved. I swear there’s like 50 people in that room and every match is one second away from disaster. Stephanie McMahon makes a brief appearance in the shadows. Triple H – I’m not calling him Paul Levesque – hugs everyone after matches giving them advice or guidance. Every match is always ‘perfect’ (with at least one or two f-bombs attached). Of course, if he ever scolds anyone, maybe that’s too real.

Watching the moments and seeing the constant questions through to the referee in the ring asking if everyone is (really) all right, planning for the different big spots by aligning the camera people, what to do when the cage breaks and the door won’t open, timing it exactly for when masked figures enter the ring to cause chaos and then seeing the quick moments where the two guys (or girls) who just beat each other to a bloody pulp hug and sincerely ask if the other one is Ok feels very real.

Being a mark means that I accept all of this. WWE is in control, but it’s as real as I want it be and I’m happy that way.

This article was originally published on Forbes.com