Images from Malcolm Venville’s Lucha Loco
When the shoot is wrapped and the crews have packed up their things and are on their way home, you’re just about halfway through your good time here in Mexico City with The Lift.
Entertainment in Mexico comes in many shapes and colors. You can have a wild night out dancing followed by late night eats, take in a conventional dinner and a movie, or if you’re feeling like embracing local traditions, head to the lucha libre.
The history of lucha dates back to the mid 1800s, when it was developed as a loose form of traditional Greco-Roman wrestling. It took til the early to mid 1960s for the sport to really take off, with wrestlers becoming famous, including El Santo, who wrestled for decades and whose mysterious wrestling persona became iconic for the sport.
You might recognize lucha first and foremost through their masks which have become synonymous with the game itself. In the early days of lucha, masks were very simple calling back to the traditions of the Aztecs. Now they tend to be very colorful and vibrant, recalling gods or animals to fit into the play of the character themselves. Masks are retired when a wrestler is retired, and sometimes wrestlers are unmasked after their final bout.
Head to one of the games, and you can see this play out in action. With five guys in the ring at the same time, the sport is incredibly lively and much more interactive with its audience than traditional WWF wrestling. The showmanship is valued just as much as the sport itself, and audiences are just as enthusiastic to cheer for their favorites as they are to hiss their opponents.
Luchadores wrestling is gaining a foothold outside of Mexico too, with shows around the world. Just recently the LA Times featured a story on luchas and the rising popularity of the event at Los Angeles’ Aztec Temple. But, as is always the case, you’ll have to head down to Mexico City to get the authentic lucha experience (and maybe even pick yourself up a mask on the way out). Be sure to also check out the imagery in Malcolm Venville’s book “Lucha Loco,” for some delightful masked nostalgia.
