Movie Review: ‘Cassandro’ is a Celebration of Defiant Queer Joy

Rating: 75/100.

Documentary filmmaker Roger Ross Williams takes his first stab at narrative filmmaking with the biopic of real-life lucha libre wrestler Saúl Armendáriz and his rise to fame as the wrestling superstar Cassandro. Armendáriz, played brilliantly by Gael García Bernal, opens the film as a wrestler fighting under the name El Topo, depicted as a runt who takes on the larger wrestlers and loses.

Saúl is an openly gay man living with his mother in El Paso, Texas who dreams of becoming a bigger name in wrestling, and many suggest that he might do better as an exótico, a stock character or gimmick in lucha libre of an effeminate man who wrestles in elaborate drag outfits. Saúl isn’t opposed to the idea of becoming an exótico, but has one objection: Exóticos are always cast as villains in lucha libre and always lose the fight. He sets out to become the first exótico to become a hero in lucha libre, even winning some of his fights. But, before he can be the exótico who wins, he first needs to become the exótico that wins over the audiences’ hearts.

Personally, I didn’t know much of anything about lucha libre wrestling going into this film, but the film clearly lays out the traditions of the sport for newcomers. And, regardless of your history with lucha libre, it’s hard not to get caught up with the campy pageantry as depicted in the film. There’s something strangely romantic about cheap, campy entertainment, and this film is here to remind us why such forms of entertainment—which are often devalued by society—actually have merit and are important to some people.

The most endearing part of the movie is Bernal playing the role of Cassandro in the ring, his face full of defiant queer joy. As the crowd hurls gay slur after gay slur at Cassandro—which is apparently the custom with exóticos in lucha libre—Bernal’s face lights up as if to say “Why yes, of course I’m a fa**ot, haven’t you been paying attention?” There’s so much strength in the way he defies the sport’s homophobia and transphobia and revels in queerness rather than being ashamed of it.

One thing that struck me as curious about this film was that it’s entirely in 4:3 aspect ratio, making the picture more square than rectangular. For many years, 4:3 was the standard in television, while wider formats dominated in film with few exceptions. Today, even television shows are generally in wider formats, with little new content coming out in 4:3. Still, there have been great films in history using 4:3 aspect ratios, with one of the greatest horror films of all-time—Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining—having been shot in 4:3 as well as some other big name movies like Zack Syder’s Justice League, Wes Andersons The Grand Budapest Hotel, and many films from production company A24. In a way, the aspect ratio is perfect for this movie, as 4:3 is often associated with old-fashioned, cheap, television entertainment like telenovelas and lucha libre. The whole movie is viewed through the lens that we used to use to view the cheap and tawdry entertainment on television before television became more cinematic, and it reminds us, again, of the value in entertainment for the masses.

The flaw in the film is that Cassandro’s career faces few, if any, obstacles once Armendáriz develops the character. The challenges and ups and downs that the character faces come in his personal life—in his complicated relationship with his mother, who seems to support his queerness one moment and blame it for his father’s absence the next, in his coming to terms with the fact that he doesn’t need approval from his homophobic father, and in his romantic and sexual relationship with another gay wrestler who refuses to come out and leave his wife and family—but his career seems to stay on a perfect, upward trajectory throughout the whole film.

Every match makes Cassandro a bigger, more successful name with almost no setbacks. While this may have been how it happened in real life, it hardly makes for the most compelling movie-watching experience, and the film probably could have been improved by taking more liberties with the true story. At the same time, though, seeing a queer person who openly celebrates their queerness being embraced by bigger and bigger audiences throughout the film is certainly pleasant to watch, especially compared to some of the depressing fare that is typical of queer cinema.

But despite this flaw, it’s still a movie that’s worth a watch if, for nothing else, to witness Bernal’s performance as the flamboyantly gay luchador. Cassandro is a celebration of queer joy and acceptance of oneself even in the culture of a sport where homophobia has become ingrained part of tradition. The most inspiring part of the whole movie is seeing Armendáriz character becoming accepted in parallel to his acceptance of himself, and the realization that being queer is something to be proud of, even while the crowd is yelling slurs at you.

Cassandro opens in select theaters around the country starting tomorrow and then debuts on Amazon Prime Video on September 22.

Photo courtesy of Prime Video.