Chris Jericho is putting a new corner of the wrestling world in the spotlight, and this time it is Vietnam. Through a documentary he helped produce, he is telling the story of how a small group of fans built Vietnam Pro Wrestling and turned a long-shot dream into something real. The result is a story about grit, fandom, and how pro wrestling can bridge huge cultural gaps without losing its weird, electric charm.
Jericho has spent years taking on challenges in the ring, so the idea of backing a project like this fits right into his larger career. “Vietslam” traces the rise of Vietnam Pro Wrestling, a promotion that started with almost nothing and slowly found its footing in a country where the sport was barely known. Instead of focusing only on punches, storylines, or celebrity cameos, the film digs into the people who believed the whole thing could actually work.
What makes the project stand out is how unlikely the whole setup was from the start. The wrestling scene in Vietnam did not have the usual advantages, and the group behind it had to push through government hurdles, a lack of basic infrastructure, and plenty of doubt. That kind of fight gives the documentary a real pulse, because it is not just about entertainment, it is about people forcing a new idea into existence.
Jericho said the story grabbed him because it showed wrestling as something bigger than a weekly TV product. In his view, the sport becomes a shared language, one that can connect fans in places that may seem worlds apart. Vietnam, he noted, is often viewed through old stereotypes, but wrestling offers a fresh way to see the country and the people building something there from scratch.
The documentary also highlights how much work goes into even the most basic parts of running a promotion. Jericho pointed to the effort needed to build a ring, organize a show, and convince officials that the performances were not some kind of dangerous combat sport. The comparison he described was simple enough: this was performance, like dance, not a fight the government needed to fear.
That distinction mattered a lot, because once the officials understood the project, the door opened a little wider. For the wrestlers involved, that meant their dream stopped being just talk and started becoming a real show people could watch. It is the kind of progress that feels small from the outside but massive to the people grinding through it every step of the way.
Jericho also made it clear that the story hits harder when you step away from online noise. Social media can make wrestling feel divided and combative, but he believes most fans are not living in that space all the time. The film, he said, is a reminder that the loudest voices are not always the most honest ones, and that effort, passion, and respect still matter more than internet bickering.
That bigger message is part of why the documentary seems to mean so much to him. Wrestling, at its best, is not just about winning or losing, and it is definitely not limited to one country or one style. It is about people finding a way to create something together, whether they are working in a major arena or trying to build a scene where almost no scene existed before.
Jericho also described the reaction from the Vietnamese wrestlers and fans as unforgettable. Being able to show up as a surprise and see their shock and excitement gave the whole project a personal jolt that went beyond business. For him, that reaction showed just how far the reach of wrestling can stretch when people are willing to care enough to build it.
The documentary is set to reach audiences across several platforms, giving the story a chance to travel well beyond Vietnam. That matters because the heart of the film is not really about one promotion or one performer, but about what happens when belief meets effort and people decide their passion is worth the struggle. In a business built on larger-than-life moments, this one lands because it feels so real.
