Looking over these old worn videos of Mark Lander impassively working his wrestling opponents (Danny, Randy Case), I'm struck at first by how much they look like paintings--bleak, blurry, expressionistic, yet the wrestlers seem posed as precisely and exquisitely as knights and damsels in Pre-Raphaelite paintings. In motion, the videos seem cold and naturalistic, fatalistic, no dialogue, only the sound of skin scuffing the vinyl matting, birds twittering outside, jetliners droning a mile overhead--with a stationary camera taking in the sensuous and slightly creepy action, partly like homemade porn, partly like an old wildlife film showing a python swallowing a shuddering raccoon. Adding to the videos' mystery and allure is the nagging question (for me it nags, anyway) of where Lander is today. And where are these other boys he so cavalierly and disinterestedly took down and crushed between his quads?
(The videos can be found on unionjack4226b's channel on YouTube.)