There is much to admire in Lisa Sanaye Dring’s Sumo, a deep dive into Japan’s national sport by way of a conventional Karate Kid-style framework. We follow an orphaned teenage apprentice named Akio (Scott Keiji Takeda), who’s landed in a Tokyo facility where a team of sumo wrestlers sequester themselves from the outside world — including all women — to train for a series of high-stakes competitions. Despite his obvious impatience to shed the menial tasks he’s been assigned and get into the dohyō, Akio secures the all-too-patient mentorship of the heya’s most senior highest-ranked wrestler, Mitsuo (David Shih).
The fights, effectively staged by James Yaegashi and Chelsea Pace, hold a visceral fascination — and it helps that real matches frequently last no more than few seconds or a minute at most, until one competitor steps a foot outside the circular dohyō or touches the ground with anything other than his feet. The thrill of the competition is elevated by Wilson Chin’s set design, Paul Whitaker’s mood-amplifying lighting, and Hana S. Kim’s projections that clue us in on everything from the competition score to the pyramid of ranks that fighters must climb to achieve GOAT-like yokozuna status. In addition, Shih-wei Wu hovers above the set to provide the propulsive beat of a taiko drum.
Dring draws on her outsider status, as a Hawaiian and a woman, to portray an all-male subculture that values centuries of tradition drawn from the Shinto religion while also allowing for modern corruptions like the necessity of securing corporate sponsorships. She wants to both depict this cloistered world, rooted in traditions so hidebound that they can lead to casual cruelty toward apprentices and those who fall short in competitions, while also suggesting the possibility of a more progressive alternative way of running the sport. But it’s hard to see the long-term upsides to throwing a match so that a weaker wrestler can remain in the heya — or how any closeted gay couple can establish a long-term relationship when one of them may be banished for an ill-timed losing streak.
The latter dilemma offers Sumo‘s most fascinating subplot, as the struggling wrestler Fumio (Red Concepción) insists that his dalliance is “just for here” while the paternal rising star Ren (Ahmad Kamal) professes a desire for a more lasting relationship. But it’s just a subplot, resolved almost as quickly as it’s introduced. Many of the story threads here feel familiar; sumo is not the only sport where elite competitors quickly turn their backs on underachievers, and are encouraged to do so to concentrate on their own progress. As in many a sports drama, the major characters often seem like archetypes — and the overlong first act drags through a prolonged series of exposition-heavy scenes depicting Akio’s all-too-gradual rise.
Sumo is on firmer ground when it focuses on the sport itself. Director Ralph B. Peña’s first-rate cast, often clad in the revealing traditional loincloths known as mawashi (designed by Mariko Ohigashi), offer a convincing display of the tactics involved in using a low center of gravity to literally throw one’s weight around. (Granted, most of the performers look like they’d weigh in well under actual sumo wrestlers– who average about 325 pounds and sometimes tip the scales at 600 pounds.) Their finely choreographed movements help explain the enduring appeal of sumo in Japanese society — and also underscore how body type can conceal real athleticism. ★★★☆☆
SUMO
Public Theater, Off Broadway
Running time: 2 hours, 20 minutes (1 intermission)
Tickets on sale through March 30 (tickets: $65-$93)
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