During a recent influx in wrestling films—think the Dwayne Johnson produced “Fighting with My Family” or the David Arquette documentary “You Cannot Kill David Arquette” which also featured Mexican wrestling—Paola Calvo and Patrick Jasim’s Spanish-language documentary “Luchadoras” throws its name into the ring of those strong outings.
The film, featured in the Global screening section at this year’s SXSW festival, is set in Ciudad Juárez in Mexico and follows three female Lucha Libre wrestlers—Lady Candy, Baby Star and Mini Serenita—and these women are the film’s titular Luchadoras, female Mexican wrestlers.
“Luchadoras” is a universal film for two reasons. Firstly, sport is such a universal inspiration that’s exciting to root for, and the energy put on display during these matches is contagious. That’s our angle in here, as the second reason this is universal is the film’s important social issues these characters bring to life. We learn this is an incredibly dangerous city for women.
It helps shed light on the integral problem within this community that women are the ones being hurt during the city’s drug wars with each growing femicide. The reasons are not always crystal clear; but the issues are there. It’s universal because each country has fundamental problems akin to this where women are failed; we just see it focused solely on Ciudad Juárez and these women’s experiences where they just try to survive. Their opportunities are limited, made more interesting with the contrast that Ciudad Juárez is only a 24-minute drive from El Paso, Texas.
A man protagonist, Lady Candy, a funeral parlour worker by day, often stares at the large fence separating them and El Paso. These staring sessions are more poignant since her abusive ex-husband took their daughters to Texas with him and Candy hasn’t seen them for months. He hasn’t been returning her calls and she’s fighting to get an American Visa to try to pursue legal action.
Baby Star’s our second subject, a young mother who dreams of fighting back in Mexico City. In the meantime, she tag-teams here with her younger sister Little Star as part of a Lucho Libre family. She’s a role model to her sister as well as her daughter, and those scenes are great here—and one scene where she assures her sister that whatever she does, they’ll be there for her, is a great moment.
As well, it’s fascinating to learn the reason why Baby is always wearing a mask, during her fights and in her private life, for the purposes of this film. Without it, she would feel ashamed. Establishing these feelings regarding her mask is integral as, when another fighter rips off her mask, as well as her sister’s, we can feel their shame as they try to hide their faces. We never see her face in the film and don’t know her real name, and the same can be said for Candy—but we still get to know and relate to these people because their Luchadora alter-egos are an integral part of their lives and their identities. The direction and writing by Paola Calvo and Patrick Jasim makes this evident.
The third subject of the film, Mini Serenita, aptly named for her short stature, is just as likable as the other two subjects. She’s from a different walk-of-life as a Luchadora closer to 40 (Baby and Candy are in their 20s), and Mini is a factory worker who has found the sport and learned she can make a better wage fighting. Her role as factory worker is intricate to the social issues as female factory workers are largely affected. In fact, the film opens with a story of a bus full of female factory workers being brought to the middle of the desert and being killed. It feels something of urban legend; but appears true.
That aspect is important, but it’s a confusing scene to throw us into. The documentary takes about 10 minutes to find its bearings and I think it would have been helpful to introduce the subject’s names as soon as we meet them, even just a subtitle saying they’re Lady Candy or Baby Star. That could just be a style choice not to go against the structure of the documentary to have that header, as there aren’t any talking heads here. This is an observational, fly-on-the-wall doc observing the wrestling and social issues.
These characters smile through it all and it gives this film so many layers, with the contrast between the beauty of these women and characters and the ugliness within this city.”
With the violence they face, there’s one moment that stands out as humour is used as a coping mechanism. Candy shares a conversation with neighbours as they see that someone has been shot and killed in the street, and his body is uncovered. They wonder who is the one who needs to supply the sheet that covers these bodies, and why that sheet is always white. It’s entertaining but heartbreaking and confounding that they can talk so casually about something like this. In Canada, I’d be shocked to see something like this on the street; in Juárez Ciadad, it’s just another Tuesday.
When the film does find its footing early on and focuses on the titular luchadoras, it’s impressive, especially because of scenes like that one. These characters smile through it all and it gives this film so many layers, with the contrast between the beauty of these women and characters and the ugliness within this city.
It’s neat, too, how all their distinct storylines fit neatly and coherently together as they go through their individual struggles. These subjects don’t always interact with each other, nor do they seem close enough to be best friends. When their stories collide, it feels like a superhero cross-over event because they do feel like superheroes; both in alter ego and them being strong role models. They have their unique struggles, but at the end of the day they’re connected by community and by their love of Lucha Libre. That’s why “Luchadoras” inspires.
“Luchadoras” has its world premiere at South by Southwest (SXSW) on March 17th at 1 PM CST in the Global programme. It will be available through March 20th.
