Heartbreak... Death Match
On Shinji Sōmai's 'Luminous Woman' (1987), Keiji Muto, masculinity in contention with modernity, and the role of the wrestler as his own narrator
The mountain man comes down from his idyllic retreat and into the squalor of the city in search of his lost love. He finds her, yet loses himself in the process — a barbaric Orpheus plummeting down straight to the hell of modernity. The first image we’re exposed to in Shinji Sōmai’s Luminous Woman (1987) is one of total desolation. Disconcerting purple tones communicate an incongruence with reality which soon transforms into a deep feeling of alienation. An imposing silhouette that is nevertheless indistinguishable from the immensity of the barren landscapes that constitute the outskirts of Tokyo, vistas adorned only by piles of garbage — a kind of purgatory in which the waste produced by urbanity ends up.
That hulking figure is revealed to be Sensaku (famous wrestler Keiji Muto), a man from the mountains of Hokkaido who comes to Tokyo in search of his wife Kuriko (Narumi Yasuda). Kuriko traveled there some time ago, intending to begin her studies so they would both be able to manage their farm back home. Early on, the film intends to show us this imposing man become a helpless, disoriented soul. From the first instance his feet touch the limits of the city, he appears perplexed by the sordid visions he encounters, the most revelatory being that of a woman singing opera atop a mountain of TVs, refrigerators, and other appliances. It’s this woman, whose name we learn is Yoshino (prolific composer Monday Michiru), who ends up being Sensaku’s guide through this urban wasteland, offering clues to his wife’s whereabouts, as well as providing him with the clarity that so clearly evades him.
Yoshino, who in turn is caught in the clutches of sophistication and is being exploited for her symbolic and sexual value, is accompanied by Shiruichi (Kei Suma), her sort of manager and opportunistic, unscrupulous businessman who perfectly embodies the dehumanizing machinations to which individuals are submitted in modern capitalist societies. Shiruichi soon involves Sensaku in his illicit affairs, all with the promise of finding his wife, dragging the mountain man into a surreal underworld where clandestine fights to the death, circus acts, dancing onnagatas (male kabuki actors dressed as females), and opera performances in decadent dungeons are the norm. The underworld reflects the societal corruption and the excesses enabled by capital, growing disproportionately at the expense of the physical, moral, and psychological integrity of its members, leaving only misery and ruin on the margins despite its promise of progress.
The great ideological conflict that Sōmai aims to illustrate through the interactions between the barbarian Sensaku and the sophisticated Shiriuchi — the two find themselves involved in a battle to impose themselves over the other, mainly in relation to the influence they have on Yoshino and Kuriko (who is also being sexually exploited by Shiriuchi) — is nothing more than that of the natural world resisting the sterile restrictions of modernity as symbolized by masculinity. Sensaku, thanks to his savage innocence, is able to stand up to the insidious machinations of the modern world, which fail in their attempt to contain the impulses of masculinity as its authority is challenged. While both, in essence, represent a system of patriarchal order, it’s the transparency with which Sensaku’s masculine impetus is expressed that makes the difference for Sōmai, aligning himself with the purity of the elemental world, completely rejecting the deceptive, manufactured realities of bubble-era Japan. It can be said, then, that for Sensaku (and by extension, for Sōmai), it’s preferable to live governed by the indiscriminate whims of human nature than by the dehumanizing norms of capitalism.
The appeal of Sensaku as a character and his relationship with the other characters in this story, is that from the first instance and despite the great adversity he faces, he is the only one who resists the influence of the city, this by not knowing how to adapt to its rules and not even being interested in learning them. Sensaku, with his uninhibited displays of masculinity, calls into question the true power that the sophisticated aspirations of modernity have over individuals; he is neither malicious nor completely well-intentioned, but simply gruff and clumsy as he doesn’t know how to navigate the guidelines of society. He’s a common being who achieves sublimity by positioning himself outside the emotional sterility and economic limitations of contemporary life: he simply exists.
While he’s forced into conflict by “greater” influences, it’s through the unambiguous nature of the violence that drives Sensaku’s resolve that he’s able to position himself above others, even if it’s something as blunt as a grappling hold or a kick. His personal struggle with the impositions of civility is best exemplified by the gladiatorial death matches to which he’s submitted to by Shiruichi. He not only fights for survival in a literal sense, but also grapples with himself emotionally, his disillusionment and heartbreak, and with a confusing world that belittles him at every turn.
Sensaku, along with Yoshino, are able to free themselves from societal restrictions by succumbing to their carnal and emotional desires, finding in each other the qualities that each lacks. Yoshino sees in Sensaku the determination necessary to escape her condition of punishment, thus giving birth to a spirit of nonconformity, while he finds in the opera singer the serenity and temper he needed to face his sorrows. Both eventually consummate their union physically and spiritually in total darkness, illuminated by a single ray of light that symbolizes resolution, clarity, and above all, purity.
Meanwhile, Kuriko and Shiriuchi descend deeper into the depths of moral rot that the city lights conceal, finding themselves completely lost as they ignore their personal desires, thus denying their humanity. Sensaku and Yoshino go through a hell of endless challenges, between the loss of the woman’s voice and the gladiatorial matches to the death that the man endures, before they can be purified and elevated towards enlightenment. Kuriko and Shiriuchi, meanwhile, only find moral and physical ruin, thus assimilating themselves to the corruption of urbanity. Masculinity triumphs over the cruel emasculation of progress and is capable of restoring man’s natural order by returning to his environment having suffered and learned; the fallen angel rebuilds his wings and makes his way back to heaven.
Aside from Shinji Sōmai, whose career up until this point notoriously included the hit Sailor Suit and Machine Gun (1981) starring pop sensation Hiroko Yakushimaru, the Roman Porno classic Love Hotel (1985), and the anti-coming of age film Typhoon Club (1985), and screenwriter Yōzō Tanaka, whose prolific career includes collaborations with Seijun Suzuki on his most esoteric works (Branded to Kill, the Taishō trilogy: Zigeunerweisen, Kagerō-za, and Yumeji), Tatsumi Kumashiro (Yakuza Justice: Erotic Code of Honor, The Inferno), and Sōmai himself (Lost Chapter of Snow: Passion, The Catch, and The Friends), one can say that the person most responsible for driving the film’s narrative is its lead, recently retired wrestler Keiji Muto, and his revelatory performance. Muto, who was still in the early stages of his career (less than two years after making his professional debut), would join the project spontaneously, and would come to be in charge of dramatizing the ideological battle between masculinity and 1980s Japan that Sōmai and Tanaka visualized in Sensaku.
After an excursion to the United States that began just a few months after his debut, where he competed in Championship Wrestling from Florida under the ring name White Ninja, Muto would return to Japan and his home promotion New Japan Pro-Wrestling in 1986 to become the Space Lone Wolf, a space age-inspired character. While the prospect of becoming an important figure in the company’s roster was becoming greater, it was another professional and artistic opportunity that offered him the chance to actualize himself creatively in the meantime. After failing to find the ideal actor for the lead role of his new project during the audition stage, director Sōmai and his team would find the ideal candidate in Muto after attending a NJPW show. (It’s speculated that the director also considered Akira Maeda, one of NJPW’s biggest stars at the time, for the role.) They quickly enrolled him in the project to begin production in March 1987, which would extend until the summer of the same year.
Six-foot-two, 240-pound Muto was exactly what Sōmai was looking for for the character of Sensaku, a large and intimidating man, but whose displays of bravado would only be a superficial characteristic of his personality. The performer would undoubtedly incorporate aspects of his wrestling persona into the role, though he’d surprisingly subvert the rough macho stereotype by displaying a vulnerability less associated with his image inside the ring. While the character of Sensaku is born from the idea of masculinity as something wild in essence and divorced from the rituals of civility, Muto would find a certain tenderness typical of innocence and from the lack of experience in a society with defined behavioral patterns, turning his character into a walking contradiction. It could be said that Muto finds in Sensaku an intersection between masculine posturing and naivety — masculinity in an uncharacteristically vulnerable state.
As mentioned before, the performer would go so far as to incorporate and even subvert aspects of his psychology and physicality within the ring; Muto as a wrestler was known, at least during the first half of his career, for being an agile and erratic performer despite his large size, someone whose spectacular movements caused bewilderment to his opponents and the audience. In the film, it can be said that his character is governed by this same unpredictability, driven by the jealous impulses of masculinity in the face of humiliation that calls his authority into question; it’s this irrationality which gives us some of the film’s most emblematic moments, such as Sensaku, desperate to appease his ego’s demands after being rejected, rudely proposing marriage to any woman he encounters on the street, or the image of him naked contemplating the immensity of the city while on a boat.
Even before Muto developed his sinister in-ring persona of The Great Muta (which would debut in World Championship Wrestling in March 1989 while the promotion was still a National Wrestling Alliance subsidiary), a face-painted supernatural entity dressed in elaborate costumes, versed in the use of magic and capable of great brutality, aspects of it could already be identified in his construction of Sensaku, both of which are best described as forces of nature unleashed in a quest to impose the violence of their hearts on the world around them, an act of whim rather than obstinacy. The Great Muta would later become Muto’s best-known gimmick in the United States, and he would switch back and forth between his real persona and the Muta after he returned to Japan, creating a certain mysticism around the character. Muta would grapple with the real Muto for dominance of his physical vessel and would only come out to wreak havoc upon either unsuspecting victims or tough challengers.
Regarding his role in the film, Muto would go on to declare — relatively recently, on the eve of his retirement — that the opportunity to work with Sōmai, despite being a new experience for him and a difficult one to adapt to due to his lack of acting experience, helped him find greater confidence as a performer during a crucial stage in his development as a wrestler, right before becoming a main event star. He emphasized that the main difference between film and professional wrestling is that the former is more of a collaborative effort and that the latter can be carried out by leaning on the individual agency of two or more performers. (The fact that wrestling is a live act distinguishes them in essence.) Under this philosophy, it’s inferred that while cinema is built by the vision and effort of different areas, the work of professional wrestling falls mostly on the performers inside the ring. Although they are moving inevitably towards a predetermined outcome, the process of reaching it is completely up to them.
By either adhering, deviating, or even supplementing the general narrative arc that has already been agreed upon, the wrestler becomes his own narrator as he is the one in charge of directing the audience towards the reaction that the stories they intend to tell inside the ring demand. In Luminous Woman, Muto shows us that this facet of the wrestler as a storyteller is not exclusively limited to the work inside the ring, but that also extends to the other disciplines in which he performs even beyond kayfabe. Inside the ring, Muto embraces the theatricality of violence, the male body in its erratic nature, and aggressiveness as the ideal expression of the human spirit. In Luminous Woman, these philosophies feed and build the character of Sensaku, whose barbarism, unpredictability, and tendency towards man’s irrational impulses — aspects that define Muto as a wrestler and The Great Muta as a character — collide directly with the cruel emasculation of a capitalist society: an exquisite being confronting the oppressive mechanisms of the world. The wrestler actively defining who he is inside and outside the ring.
To close this essay, and to give a general idea of who Keiji Muto/The Great Muta was inside the ring, I’d like to take the opportunity to provide a sampler of my favorite matches in which he participated, in chronological order. Enjoy!
Akira Maeda, Osamu Kido & Yoshiaki Fujiwara vs George Takano, Keiji Muto & Tatsumi Fujinami (NJPW Spring Flare Up 1987 - Tag 5, 28.02.1987)
Big Van Vader vs. Keiji Muto (NJPW Violent Storm in Kokugikan - Tag 2, 10.08.1991)
Keiji Muto vs. Masahiro Chono (NJPW Violent Storm in Kokugikan - Tag 3, 11.08.1991)
Big Van Vader & Crusher Bam Bam Bigelow vs. Hiroshi Hase & Keiji Muto (NJPW Explosion Tour 1992 - Tag 14, 01.05.1992)
Great Muta vs. Hiroshi Hase (NJPW Battle Final 1992 - Tag 11, 14.12.1992)
Keiji Muto vs. Shinya Hashimoto (NJPW G1 Climax 1995 - Tag 5, 15.08.1995)
Genichiro Tenryu vs. Great Muta (WAR Osaka Crush Night!, 11.10.1996)
Great Muta vs Jushin “Thunder” Liger (NJPW Super Grade Tag League VI - Tag 8, 20.10.1996)
Keiji Muto vs. Yuji Nagata (NJPW G1 Climax 2001 - Tag 7, 12.08.2001)
Keiji Muto vs. Toshiaki Kawada (AJPW Champion Carnival One Night Special, 14.04.2001)