The Champions of Justice [1971]

Some things are almost too beautiful for the world we live in, Internet. I remember the very fitst time I was introduced to the world of Lucha Libre, that qiuntessentially Mexican form of professional wrestling marked by masked characters, acrobatic fighting maneuvers, and--yes--zany-ass sci-fi/horror/action films. The frantic action, wild plot lines, and colorful personalities of these movies are the cinematic equivalent of sugary breakfast cereals--delicious, nutrient-free, and able to induce the coziest of feelings in the heart of the partaker. The innocence and enthusiasm of these movies is absolutely contagious. It should come as no surprise to learn that I've got a rather burgeoning collection of lucha movies on DVD.




All lucha films are kinda created equal, to be honest, but like all genre flicks, there are standout examples. "The Champions of Justice" is such a standout and just might be my favorite of these films. What it lacks in the iconic El Santo, it makes up for in EVERYFUCKINGTHING ELSE. Let's bullet this out:

• FIVE masked wrestler good guys


• Mad scientist heavy


• Army of machine-gun-toting super-midgets


• Mexican beauty queens in distress

If all that isn't good enough for you, add in luchadores riding around on motorcycles, in dune buggies, in speed boats, in muscle cars. Still waffling? How about a frikkin' groovetastic jazzy soundtrack--your boat, it should be floated now.

I feel a little guilty setting you up for such AWESOMETUDE and then reeling you back in with the Sameness, but establishing the Ground Rules is important in any conversation on genre films. In some ways, lucha libre movies are like old school kung fu epics--there are conventions that must be observed. The good guys are absolutely committed to virtue and demonstrate their goodness at every possible opportunity. Take, for example, Blue Demon--he's a busy dude; he's got wrestling to do, natty suits to wear, motorcycles to ride. Yet when approached by a group of adoring fans, he smiles and promises everyone an autograph. Also, the film MUST open with a formal wrestling match in the ring, and "The Champions of Justice" is no exception. The ring time in "tCoJ" is pretty limited--you get your introductory rasslin', and then it's on to strictly in-plot rassling thereafter. Speaking of this wrestling, there is virtually no gunplay or weapons play. When weapons do come into the picture, the luchadores are quick to disarm their opponents in favor of grappling and punching. You'd better believe there's a headstrong character and a born leader among the good guys (everybody is a ladies' man, so there's no need for that role to be specifically filled). As you might've surmised, the movies work on Kid Logic--good guys are good, bad guys are bad, friends are friends, More = More Better, and Sometimes Stuff Just Happens Cos It's Cool-Lookin'.

Back to "the Champions!" The five members of the group are Blue Demon (frequent sidekick to El Santo, now moved into the leadership role, doubtless after YEARS of grooming by the Silver One), Mil Mascaras (Thousand Masks, known for his frequent and deft mask-changes), Tinieblas (Darkness), el Medico Asesino (Killer Doctor, who is somehow a good guy--go fig'), and la Sombra Vengadora (Avenging Shadow). Each member has a goddaughter in the Miss Mexico paegent, but superbaddy the Black Hand has sworn revenge. He was turned in to Interpol by the good guys in the past (he works for some foreign European country and might be tied into the Red Peril), and now his plan is to enslave their beauty queen goddaughters.

Black Hand has recruited an army of caped-masked-and-red-suited midgets to do his bidding and instead of --you know--just hiring super-strong guys, he has invented a super-strength machine that allows the midgets to wrestle the luchadores--and WIN! That's right, Dear Friends, we've got midget-on-masked-wrestler action sequences. And they're every bit as good as you'd want them to be.

The movie is just an orgy of excellence. Sciencey Sounds accompanied by dry ice and whirly colors? CHECK. Explosions? YES! Skydiving? FUCK YES! Underwater fight scenes matted out against goldfish tanks? DOUBLEFUCK YES! It's almost too much for the human brain to accept, and by about forty minutes into the hour-and-twenty-minute run time, I just resigned myself to giggling and wearing a huge-ass grin as Rad Thing after Rad Thing punched, kicked, and tossed its way across my teevee.

I want to issue a sincere THANK YOU to the Mexploitation Gods for coming up with such a thing of beauty as this film. It's stuff like this that keeps me from being a complete atheist--you know that somewhere, some benevolent deity pointed down to earth and planted the seed of lucha libre, and that deity loves us and wants us to be happy.

Check out the Flickr gallery of stills from "the Champions of Justice"--you'll be glad you did!