Sumo Off-Broadway Reviews

Yet when you look for the souls within the clothing you find nothing as precise or vivid. That’s a problem that comes with the play’s virtues. Respect and delicacy, wonderful life values, are less so in drama, and Dring’s framing of the work with ingratiatingly comic narration from three priests, as if her subject would otherwise be too strange for New York theatergoers, has a paradoxical effect. It makes sumo seem like a museum exhibit, trapped behind glass. Better, perhaps, just to throw us into the ring.

More compelling is the play’s main subplot, which follows the relationship between Fumio (Red Concepción), a middle-ranking wrestler at the heya, and Ren (an imposing Ahmad Kamal), the hardest worker in the stable, top in the rankings underneath Mitsuo and an infinitely more humane soul. Some of Dring’s finest work happens in her exploration of the love between these two men — secretly romantic in nature — and of the wider, platonic yet intensely physical love shared by all the rikishi. As an implicit celebration of big bodies and of varying, deeply feeling masculinities, Sumo is at its most beautiful.

But unlike the bouts, which often last less than a minute, Sumo frequently feels sluggish. The humorous sequences are high points, especially a scene of spirited post-tournament karaoke, but the central narrative—leading up to an epic final showdown that pits empathy against aspiration—ultimately feels too pat; a subplot involving a taboo relationship is more gripping than the main story. The play is a solid contender, but it doesn't have quite enough surprising moves to rise to the level of champion.

As the story heads into its seemingly inevitable conclusion, the playwright and director, backed by their designers, summon up the spiritual gods of sumo in an attempt to ratchet earthly matters into a higher power of significance. Yet despite the crash course in mythology and sumo wrestling that began the play—or perhaps because such an information overload is hard to recall, let alone appreciate, more than two hours later—the climactic scene proves to be something of a fizzle.

Sumo’s character arcs are compelling, if somewhat predictable. The same could be said for its larger story arc, in which Akio, the reckless, chomping-at-the-bit ingénue weighs the differing advice from his many mentors before ultimately choosing the path of humbleness over hypermasculinity. That said, its predictability does not lessen the impact. Like in Star Wars or Lord of the Rings, the story of humility triumphing over toxicity always holds weight.