Courtesy of Lucha Vavoom
WRESTLEMANIA: The high-flying Cassandro (center) partners up with doppelganger Mini Cassandro at Lucha VaVOOM.
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[ let's get ready to rumble ]
There's nothing like the promise of seeing tits after a long day of watching race cars. That is what drew men at the Long Beach Grand Prix to Lucha VaVOOM's stage — that and the masked wrestling. They drooled as the lithe and flexible Karis, VaVOOM's resident hula-hooper, entertained them during the race. The men salivated as she slowly spun and stripped, until off came her top — revealing that "she" was really a "he."
Transforming expectations is the nature of Lucha VaVOOM. With a handful of 15-minute lucha libre-style masked matches, complemented by burlesque and narrated by a rotation of fringe comedians, VaVOOM fills a campy niche all its own. It stems from the visions of founders, Liz Fairbairn and Rita D'Albert.
Both women share a musical background. Fairbairn managed costumed metal-ers GWAR and was once a member of Polkacide, a hardcore polka band. D'Albert played guitar for '80s girl group The Pandoras. Neither foresaw a future filled with fighting rings. But Fairbairn fell for a lucha libre wrestler, or luchador, who ignited her passion for the sport. She roped in D'Albert, who was then performing burlesque, and VaVOOM was born.
The show has played to packed houses since 2002, when the two found a home at L.A.'s Mayan Theatre. The most telling attendees, claims Fairbairn, are the loyal lucha libre fans. "The quality of the wrestlers is really good," she says, "unlike some of these hybrid entertainment shows — they have just some hack with a mask on. But our guys are actual trained Mexican wrestlers."
Like their American WWE cousins, luchadores have larger-than-life characters, such as Dirty Sanchez and the Crazy Chickens, yet the focus is on acrobatics as they perform riskier maneuvers such as high-dives. Not to be outshone, VaVOOM's burlesque acts include big names like New York aerialists the Wau Wau Sisters, who will be on the bill in Philly. Hosting will be comedian Blaine Capatch, a former writer for Blue Collar TV.
D'Albert believes that talent trumps cliché — always a risk when you're balancing transgendered performers, nearly nude dancers, oh, and did we mention "mini" luchadores? "Mini wrestlers are actually great wrestlers," says D'Albert. "In Mexico, they're just people. It's not like, 'Oh look! It's midget tossing!'"
As for the burlesque dancers, D'Albert says, "They are not people pandering to the crowd. They're doing an amazing act that just happens to involve stripping."
What pleases D'Albert most is the response to the transgendered performers. "You see Karis and you see guys in the audience go, 'Oh my God, that's the hottest chick. I'm going to hit that!'" D'Albert says. "Then afterward, they go, 'You know, I still would.' " She adds, "He's the prettiest girl in the show."
Lucha VaVoom | Fri., May 7, 8 p.m., $24, Trocadero, 1003 Arch St., 215-336-2000, thetroc.com
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