Sumo: Spirit Weighs Nothing

The secretive world of sumo wrestling gets thoroughly demystified in this enthralling fly-on-the-wall documentary from Erik Shirai. The Japanese-American filmmaker has previous in exploring modern Japan’s relationship with its traditions: his 2015 doc took viewers into a 144-year-old saké brewery. This elegant follow-up humanises the incredibly famous but mostly hermetic figures who compete in the sport in eye-opening ways. 

Although is it a sport? Or an art form? Spirit Weighs Nothing positions sumo more as a 1500-year-old ritual where sacrifice and hard work creates spiritual as well as physical strength. Sumo was once viewed reverentially as a Shinto ritual to ensure a good harvest, even a test of strength from the gods. These days, sumo fans present in much the same way as football supporters: fanatical and obsessive. It was once one sort of religion, now it’s another.

Shirai embraces the best traditions of the sports doc, following a handful of established and wannabe stars from the Sakaigawa stable (or ‘heya’) in Tokyo over 12 months of training and competition. There’s the reigning champion Terunofuji, struggling to maintain his edge as osteoarthritis takes hold – yes, already – and 24-year-old rising star Hiradoumi, who could be the next major contender. Then there’s ‘the rookie’, sociable teenager Yonezawaryu, who is learning the art but questioning his path. An ill-fated bout with a close friend brings a sorrowful note to his quest for improvement. Overseeing them all with drill-instructor ferocity are a pair of elders who supervise the brutal collision of bodies in the sandy dohyō.

Then there’s 5′3″ Kosei, a 16-year-old prodigy nicknamed ‘the little giant’ who looks like he’d blow away in a light breeze but has the tenacity and skill to outmanoeuvre much bigger opponents. His jaunty progress is a highlight of the film, a reminder that sumo isn’t just about bulk but craft and guile too. 

The darker side of sumo is here, too

The darker side of sumo is here, too: the need to consume 10,000 calories a day, four times the recommended adult amount. The mantra, ‘eating is a skill’, keeps wrestlers under constant pressure to gain weight. The young Kosei, who struggles with this particular skillset, is encouraged to eat quickly so he can take on the requisite calories before he feels full. It’s not easy watching these young men being turned into the human equivalent of foie gras geese – and Shirai doesn’t dance around it. Sumo wrestlers have a life expectancy 10-20 years shorter than their compatriots. Terunofuji already has diabetes. Only the stars earn a proper crust. Is it worth it for the costs involved? Shirai leaves the question hanging.

There’s little detail about sumo’s existence outside of Japan (Terunofuji is Mongolian-born) and the role (or lack of) for women is not addressed. A few interviews with fans discussing their love of sumo would have added a useful perspective, too. But the behind-closed-doors footage from the sumo school gives not only a sense of the day-to-day slog of being a wrestler, but thunderous dohyō action involving the relatable wrestlers. Elegant black-and-white cinematography of the tournaments and Rutger Hoedemaekers’ minimalist score add grace to the grunt.

‘A pure heart and honour are the ways of the sumo,’ intones one of the elders. The words sound borrowed from another era. It’s heartening that there’s still a place for the old ways in this one. 

Sumo: Spirit Weighs Nothing premiered at the Venice Film Festival.