By Enter the mysteriously captivating world of lucha libre wrestling; where sweaty, masked men the size of refrigerators squeeze into glittery spandex and fly through the air; where grown men are not above using sophomoric pranks; and where it’s perfectly normal for one man to crush another man’s crotch using his face.
All of these bizarre yet hilariously entertaining theatrics made their way into Long Beach’s Museum of Latin American Art (MOLAA) Friday night for an evening of live lucha libre, one of Mexico’s richest traditions.
The night kicked off with a screening of “Viva Lucha Libre,” a 20-minute documentary chronicling the birth and expansion of lucha libre, which means “freestyle fighting” or “wrestling” in Spanish. Several luchadores, or wrestlers, and enthusiasts provided insight and analysis for attendees, whose prior knowledge on the subject came from Jack Black. The film was deeply informative but brief enough to hold your attention until the end. It even featured commentary from American comedian Patton Oswalt, who grew up watching lucha libre movies.
Lucha libre sprouted up in the 1930s when a Mexican wrestling fan adapted the use of masks in competition for his country. Removing a luchador mask even outside of the ring is the ultimate form of defeat and humiliation. This element of mystery prevents many lucha libre fans from ever seeing their favorite fighter’s face, but it adds to the intrigue.
While many luchadores are hulking in stature, the film explained that they come in all shapes, sizes and even sexual orientations.
“Luchadores exoticos,” or drag queen luchadores, dress femininely but are feared no less than a traditional luchador. Also making an appearance were “minis,” or miniature luchadores, who might be half the size of most luchadores but are twice as crafty. Oswalt described a “mini” as “the star on top of the Christmas tree of ass-kicking.”
Guests were also able to partake in another Mexican tradition: tequila. Brown-Foreman provided a complimentary tasting station that included tequilas from Herradura and El Jimador, both of which were a few notches above your typical Jose Cuervo jet fuel formula.
However, the staff could not meet the heavy booze demand and was forced to close up the tequila station well before the end of the night.
After drinks, it was time for the luchadores to take the ring.
Introduced one by one, the 12 luchadores all had their crack at glory. They slapped, head-locked, body-slammed, clothes-lined, crotch-stomped and even wedgied each other in a series of back-and-forth bouts.
One of the highlights of the night came when one luchador, who is best described as a Guy Fieri-Santa Claus lovechild, tossed his opponent out of the ring. The action made its way into the audience, bringing considerable excitement and probably fear to many fans.
Another luchador, clearly not suffering from low self-esteem, entered the ring with the word “God” tattooed across his back.
Upon first glance, MOLAA seemed like an odd venue to host the event. Sure, MOLAA is a Latin American art museum and lucha libre is a Latin American sport, but what’s “artistic” about sweaty men getting each other in headlocks?
Don’t be mistaken; lucha libre is an art form in the truest sense. Look no further than the luchadores themselves, who were decked out in vibrantly bedazzled spandex uni-suits and colorfully intricate masks emblazoned with custom designs. Everywhere you looked the costumes were spectacular.
Furthermore, lucha libre is more accurately classified as theater than sport. The luchadores weren’t competing so much as they were performing. Picture lucha libre as the Mexican counterpart to the “fake wrestling” seen in American professional wrestling. It is much more about each luchador’s stage persona and crowd interaction than his “fighting” ability. Each match requires extensive choreography and at least mediocre acting in order to come to fruition, not to discredit the athleticism of the luchadores, whose agility and acrobatics were truly something to marvel.
Lucha libre may never attain mainstream popularity in the U.S., but it’s certainly not outside the realm of possibilities, especially considering the rapidly increasing Latino population.
If you want to be entertained but can’t decide between theater and sports, treat yourself to a night of the unforgettably bizarre, spandex spectacle that is lucha libre. You won’t regret it.
