Freedom! Violence! Fun! An Interview with the Women Behind Lucha VaVOOM

If you haven’t heard of Lucha VaVOOM, then you probably aren’t even aware that you can see “authentic Mexican masked wrestling, striptease and comedy collide” right in front of your face. Rita D’Albert and Liz Fairbairn founded Lucha VaVOOM in 2002, and their unique brand of camp, kink and general kookiness is more explosive now than ever. Subtle it’s not. Leaping and somersaulting wrestlers fight in the grand tradition of Lucha Libre (defined by vibrant masks, high-flying moves, and comic book-level savagery) and racy burlesque acts strip, shimmy, and shock for a sensory-loaded experience. On August 3, Lucha VaVOOM will celebrate its 15th anniversary with a special show at the Mayan Theater in downtown Los Angeles. PRØHBTD spoke with Rita and Liz to find out about how they got into the Mexican wrestling scene, what makes their show such a success and why the combination of sex and violence is timelessly satisfying.

How did you come up with the idea to start Lucha?
Fairbairn: It just kind of came together accidentally, from my and Rita’s experiences. I was working on special effects costumes on a movie down in Mexico, and my boyfriend was a stunt guy on it. He was a Lucha dork. Well, he still is a Lucha dork, but he’s not my boyfriend anymore.

D’Albert: She started taking people to Tijuana, saying, “You’ve got to see this. This is amazing.” It’s hard to get people to schlep across the border so she said, “Let’s do a show here.” I said, “No, I’m not a jock.” And then I went and realized I was being such a small-minded asshole. You picture guys with shiny greasy mullets, and it’s not that at all. They get their grudges out through wrestling. They don’t get on the mic. That never happens. They have to just make their point by beating the other guy in the ring.

Fairbairn: The most fun part for me now is to come up with some stupid idea and watch it unfold before my eyes, you know?

That’s got to be incredibly gratifying. What are your respective backgrounds like?
D’Albert: I used to do wardrobe for porn movies, and they would get it so wrong. They’d say, “If you made your own movies, would you make them more romantic?” I did mostly bondage, so it wasn’t as gross. When you’re a struggling artist, I can’t think of a better way to make money. But when it becomes second nature that someone’s doing double penetration, it’s maybe time to stop.

Fairbairn: I’ve been doing costumes since I was 15. My first job was at a costume shop, and my whole family is pretty much in the costume business. I also managed GWAR for nine years, so I’ve been through fucking boot camp with chaos.

How do you pick the performers for Lucha?
D’Albert: We have a really specific kind of person we’re looking for. Most of them can’t be shit-stirrers. I think that’s why we’re still around. Any time that kind of thing comes up, that poisoned branch has to go. So we wind up having amazing performers and just complete fun and harmony. People look forward to doing our show ‘cause it’s just as much fun off stage as it is on.

Speaking of fun, have many fights ensued?
Fairbairn: Not a lot, but occasionally. We had one celebrity fight. That was pretty funny.

Care to name-drop?
Fairbairn: That chick from Grey’s Anatomy, the redhead who got her own show, came with a group of people, and her brother got in a fistfight with somebody, and they got kicked out. The Mayan doesn’t care who the hell you are, you’re out. And she was saying, “Don’t you know who I am?!”

I can’t believe people actually say that. I saw Peaches’ “Close-Up” video that features Lucha. It’s awesome. How did the collaborations with her happen? Are you guys friends now?
D’Albert: For the first one, I asked her because she was just around, and I said, “Is there any chance you’d want to do a big Vegas number?” And then she descended from the ceiling, and we gave her all kinds of backup dancers and made it like a messed-up Vegas type of thing—in a very Peaches-approved way. And the second one was with an all-female Black Sabbath cover band.

Fairbairn: I did an outfit for her that ended up in the fold of her album. It’s a cape with these big swirls on the shoulders and stuff. Peaches is our buddy. She’s awesome. I made Rita a “Toddlers ‘n’ Tiaras” outfit that she strips out of, and she’s been a recurring character in all of Peaches music videos. I made it out of proportion so she looks like she’s five.

D’Albert: We’re age-appropriate friends.

I don’t even know how old Peaches is. She’s one of those ageless people.
D’Albert: We’re ageless-appropriate friends!

You do Valentine’s Day events. Are they romantic affairs?
D’Albert: I wouldn’t use the word romantic, but it can definitely be a catalyst. A lot of people say they either meet here or couples go on first dates. People either have a very successful first date… or not at all! Back when people used MySpace, comments on our page would say things like, “I left the boyfriend, but I kept Lucha.”

Fairbairn: Each show is different. We try to keep Valentine’s Day kind of light and bright and fun. Not to say there’s not still plenty of head-smashing and boob-jiggling.

What about Cinco de Mayo?
D’Albert: It’s very much an all-Mexican celebration. 

How would you describe the show for someone who’s never been?
Fairbairn: People are like, “What’s it like?” And I’m like, “Well, it’s not really like anything you’ve ever seen before.” I know that sounds really obnoxious, but it’s true!

D’Albert: To make sure we could get people down to see the Mexican wrestling, we added the burlesque element, so you get sex and violence. The way we do it is a perfect balance. The wrestling isn’t overly macho, and the girls aren’t like strippers. They ignite off each other. They play off each other really well.

Fairbairn: It’s really representative of all the stuff that goes on in LA: low-riders, showmanship and the whole thing. They’re a lot of Latinos here, and we wanted to do it very respectfully. Our Lucha Libre is the real deal. They’re trained in Mexico. They adhere to the traditions.

D’Albert: You know how everything has ironic distance nowadays? Sneering from a distance. We try to embrace things wholeheartedly. The nuttiness. Nothing’s self-conscious about it.

Fairbairn: The show is simultaneously hip and nostalgic.

D’Albert: Having gone to strip clubs, it’s girl, girl, girl, one after another. You go to Lucha Libre, and it’s like six guys in a row. I don’t like doing anything for more than an hour and a half. We do it for my jaded attention span. You don’t get used to anything. You’re thinking one thing is amazing, and it’s right onto the next thing.

Would you call it campy?
D’Albert: That’s fair to call it campy. Liz and I are both fans of the '60s Batman series. Later we got turned on to Lucha films from the sixties that so lovingly embrace camp. They just dive in, and it’s so adorable.

How would you describe the crowd? Is there a type?  
Fairbairn: We get tons of Hollywood-creative people at our shows, and they go back to their offices, and they’re like, “Ooh, this would make a great Taco Bell commercial!” But when we started it was a geeky sort of thing.

D’Albert: Audiences in New York and L.A. can become a little jaded. There’s something about our shows that get people to drop their guard and get really into it. They get into a fun state of mind where they’re not as inhibited.

Fairbairn: In Los Angeles, people tend to be more worried about other people looking at them than they are about enjoying a show. I know it sounds weird, but people are really self-conscious here. They just stand there, looking around to see if anybody’s looking at them, and they’re not really engaging with the show. But with Lucha VaVOOM, people seem to let their guard down.

D’Albert: It’s almost like the women in the audience give the men permission to wooo and cheer. We want them to cheer for them. Sometimes they’re not sure if it would be sexist. So we let them know the performers need encouragement.

Fairbairn: We get a lot of people who want to become part of the show. A lot of drunk girls try to get in the ring. It’s like, “Dude! Keep your drunk girlfriend out of the ring!”

D’Albert: We try to let the audience know that anything goes. Except for getting on stage or in the ring. It’s controlled chaos. And also they’re drinking tequila, and a lot don’t normally, which creates a free atmosphere. It becomes greater than the sum of its parts, and then you add booze to it, and it’s magic.

Originally published on PRØHBTD.