So, this is the scene at last night's launch of the photography book Lucha Loco, a collection of portraits of Mexican wrestlers by the photographer Malcolm Venville. In a spectacular display of budget incineration, the dancefloor of Café de Paris had been converted into a wrestling ring, and three enormous Mexican wrestlers flown in for the occasion to batter each other senseless while wearing masks and day-glo underpants. If I remember correctly, the move in this photo is known as a "Scorpion Death Lock", in which one of the wrestlers balances the other on his knees and then tries to pull his arms off (although I may have been distracted at the time by the blood pouring from Blue Demon's face). Meanwhile, the drunken crowd alternated between hooting laughter and baying for broken bones.

Another aspect of Mexican wrestling worth remarking on is that large sections of the fight are devoted to each combatant taking turns to slap the other's bare chest with a stinging, open palm. Why, we couldn't quite work out, but presumably it has something to do with a noble tradition stretching back centuries, even if it did give the bout a somewhat Joan Collins-esque bitchfight quality. Finally, the wrestlers packed up and left, and assorted publishing types began pawing and clambering over each other on the way to the free bar while wearing cheap replica masks. I know who came out of it all with more dignity. (Images © Malcolm Venville, 2006.)

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