What the Fest!? ’18: Lowlife

We have seen Lucha Libre wrestlers heroically campy in the El Santo movies (courtesy of MST3K) and grotesquely depressing in Arturo Ripstein’s Bleak Streets, but never like this. Beneath El Monstruo’s crimson and gold mask, there is a heart of darkness and a deep abiding sense of shame. However, he might have a shot at redemption when the bodies start piling up in Ryan Prows’ Lowlife (trailer here), which screens during this year’s What the Fest!?, at the IFC Center.

El Monstruo did not merely inherit his legacy from his fearsome father. He had to fight for it, like all Monstruos before him. He was always under-sized compared to prior Monstruos, as well as his luchador rivals, but no man was a match for his explosive rage. Inevitably, this led to a tragic incident in the ring that tarnished his reputation and cashiered him out of the league. Now Monstruo works for Teddy “Bear” Haynes, a vile loan shark and human trafficker, guarding the very women who look to Monstruo to be a defender of the innocent.

At least he managed to save his wife, Kaylee, whose unborn son will guarantee the legacy endures. That was Monstruo’s plan, but Haynes now has other ideas. Crystal, Kaylee’s birth-mother is desperate for a kidney to save her husband, the father Kaylee never met. Haynes will happily offer up one of Kaylee’s. However, Crystal will have a change of heart when she realizes Kaylee is not a voluntary participant.

Into this brewing mess barges Keith and his old running mate Randy, freshly released from prison, with the facial swastika tattoo to prove it. Randy could have snitched on Keith, but he did the time instead. Yet, Keith intends to set-up his old friend to protect his newly respectable suburban life and payoff his debts to Haynes. However, Keith has gone soft and naïve, so he will need Randy’s street smarts to survive Haynes’ shocking criminal assignment.

On paper, Lowlife sounds like a film so dark and cynical it could inspire entire audiences to give up the will to live. Yet, somehow Prows keeps the energy cranked up to such a manic level, viewers essentially speed by, leaving many of the grimmer details unnoticed. The fractured Pulp Fiction-style narrative also works better here than in nearly every imitator in between. Yet, what really gives the film guts and cojones is the way it deconstructs the luchador archetype. A lot of people in the Lucha Libre world will probably hate this film, but in a bizarre way, it still gives us hope for humanity.

Even though he never takes off the mask, Ricardo Adam Zarate is a true force of nature, as El Monstruo. Likewise, Mark Burnham’s Haynes is so flamboyantly wicked, he makes a worthy grudge-match antagonist. However, Jon Oswald shockingly steals the third act as Randy, the unlikeliest anti-hero, with a combination of perfect comedic timing and ironic guilelessness.

Frankly, it is a testament to Prows’ deft touch and traffic-directing prowess that Lowlife is not a deeply offensive train wreck. In defiance of all rational expectations and good taste, it manages to come together and land a haymaker. It is a wild ride, but real cult movies fans should not pass up such peerless madness. Highly recommended for the not-easily-offended, Lowlife screens this Sunday afternoon (4/1), as part of What the Fest!?—and opens in regular release the following Friday (4/6).

Lucha Mexico: Who Are Those Masked Men?

American “professional” wrestling is “scripted.” Prep, collegiate, and Olympic wrestling is totally real and woefully under-appreciated. Lucha Libre wrestling in Mexico is completely nuts. It is also somewhat scripted, but the constant risk of injury means anything could happen during any given match. Mexico’s equivalent of OSHA does not spend a lot of time in the CMLL’s Arena Mexico, but fans regularly pack the Mecca of Lucha Libre to cheer on the league’s luchadors. Alex Hammond & Ian Markiewicz take us behind-the-scenes and sometimes even behind the masks in Lucha Mexico (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

By now, Lucha Libre has penetrated the American pop culture consciousness. For the mall crowds it was the Jack Black movie, whereas hipper viewers remember MST3K’s riffing on El Santo movies and those who really like to get depressed probably made a point of seeing Arturo Ripstein’s Bleak Street. All the contradictory impressions we might have from those sources appear to be true.

Some luchadors have achieved great success in the ring, but even a superstar like Shocker, known to his fans as “El 1000% Guapo” still relentlessly travels the shrinking Lucha Libre circuit. Evidently, there used to be more venues in border cities like Tijuana and Juarez, but luchadors stopping appearing there because of the cartel violence. Shocker will be our quasi-guide through the world Lucha Libre, which includes the “Technico” good guys, such as himself and his frequent American tag-team partner, Jon ‘Strongman” Andersen, the “Rudo” bad guys, like Ultimo Guerrero, Sexy Star and her fellow masked women, and the mascots, such as Kemonito.

We also see how Lucha Libre has changed with the increasingly violent Mexican culture. It seems like the breakaway Perros Del Mal is all rudos, but their hardcore style has proved popular. The thumbtacks and broken light bulbs on the mat are as real as it gets and so are the luchadors’ blood and scars.

Script or no script, the pain meted out during matches is often totally real. In fact, tragedy struck twice during the filming of Lucha Mexico, with the deaths of El Hijo Del Perro Aguayo, the founder of the extreme Perros Del Mal spectacles and Fabian “El Gitano,” a well-regarded Luchador’s Luchador and gym-owner. While Aguayo Jr’s death in the ring is described as a “freak” accident, it hardly seems so unlikely given the nature of Perros Del Mal bouts. For years, State Sen. Roy Goodman kept mixed martial arts banned in New York State, because he considered it excessively brutal. Can you imagine if he ever saw Aguayo’s colleagues at work? In contrast, El Gitano’s fate is more complicated and more tragic in the Shakespearean sense.

There are indeed real stakes in Lucha Libre, but the goofy spirit is also a lot of fun, at least with respects to the traditional CMLL luchadors, such as Shocker and the Blue Demon, Jr. Hammond & Markiewicz largely take an observational approach, entirely skipping the talking head sit-downs. Yet, the vibe is more like a casual hang than a dry exercise in direct cinema, largely thanks to the charisma of Shocker and Andersen, their primary and secondary POV figures.

Serving as co-editors and co-cinematographers (with a camera assist from indie stalwart Sean Price Williams) Hammond & Markiewicz convey a vivid sense of place throughout the doc. Frankly, Old School is the only term that really fits the seedy grandeur of the Arena Mexico. It makes you wonder why El Rey or Spike TV haven’t yet been able to build a crossover following for Lucha Libre. Lucha Mexico is probably too intimate for the extreme sports audience, but fans of ESPN’s 30 for 30 and HBO’s Real Sports will find it worth engaging with. Recommended for the intrigued, Lucha Mexico opens this Friday (7/15) in New York, at the IFC Center.

Ripstein’s Bleak Street

Skid Row looks mostly the same everywhere, but in Mexico City, you can also find down-on-their-luck luchador wrestlers. In the case of “Little Death” and “Little AK,” they are actually Mini-Estrella wrestlers, but do not call them midgets. They identify as Lilliputians. Unfortunately, they are based on real life Mini-Estrella murder victims Alejandro and Alberto Jiminez, so they are in for an abrupt end. At least they go out with their masks on in Arturo Ripstein’s Bleak Street (trailer here), which opens this Wednesday at Film Forum.

Little Death and Little AK do not even take their masks off when they are home with their long suffering, conventionally-sized wives. They act as the “shadows” of full sized luchadors, “Death” and “AK-47.” The AK’s have a good professional the relationship, but not the Deaths.

Life is tough on the Mini-Estrella circuit, but it is even harder for aging prostitutes like Adela and Dora. The former has largely given up on the sex trade, relying instead on her addled mother’s begging bowl. Dora still turns what tricks are available, but finds no love at home from her ingrate daughter or her closeted, transvestite husband. Hoping to get slightly ahead of the game, the sick and tired prostitutes plan to drug and rob the twin Minis when they are hired for their post-bout celebration. They used to roll clients all the time back in the day. Regrettably, they do not realize they need to make certain adjustments to their M.O.

Buñuel’s influence on Ripstein is immediately apparent in the first seconds of Bleak Street. It is also easy to deduce Ripstein’s influence on succeeding generations of Mexican filmmakers, like del Toro, Reygadas, and Plá. This is some dark stuff. Although never scary per se, there is a pronounced element of grotesquery that runs straight through the center of the film. Heck, it might just make Rachel Maddow’s amen corner vote for Donald Trump.

Yet, Ripstein and his screenwriter wife Paz Alicia Garcíadiego are not merely sympathetic towards the wife-beating Mini-Estrellas and the predatory prostitutes. They are overflowing with darkly humanistic love for them. After all, they are all products of their environment—and their cul-de-sac of dashed hopes makes the Dead End Bowery look like Rodeo Drive.

Even though we never see them unmasked, Juan Francisco Longoria and Guillermo López give remarkably physical performances as the Mini-Estrellas. Likewise, Patricia Reyes Spíndola and Nora Velázquez are painfully exposed as the aging street walkers. It is like Ripstein peels back layers of their dignity like an onion, only to find more perseverance beneath.

Somehow, Alejandro Cantú’s black-and-white cinematography makes the ugliness of human nature look absolutely gorgeous. It might sound like a Mexican John Waters film, but it has a closer kinship with the work of Fellini and even Bergman. It is not for all tastes, but it is a major late career auteurist statement from Ripstein, which in its way, is quite invigorating. Recommended for those who appreciate the bizarre and the naturalistic, Bleak Street opens this Wednesday (1/20) in New York at Film Forum.