When the Diet Fails, Try Sumo: 'A Matter of Size'

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THE ACTORS IN "A Matter of Size," which kicks off the Washington Jewish Film Festival (Wjff.org) this Thursday night, wrestled with their body issues in a way they never had before: in a sumo ring. It's the unlikely tale of four guys who realize they can finally stop fighting with their bodies and instead embrace what makes them different.

And it's an even unlikelier movie to come out of body-conscious Israel, where the pickings are particularly slim when it comes to overweight actors. Producers were originally unconvinced that they could find men who had the, um, guts to take on the parts. "But then we came into the room in our underwear and they changed their minds," says Dvir Benedek, who's flying in for the WJFF screening and estimates his weight at 145 kilos (or 319 pounds). He snagged the part of Aharon, a guy worried about losing his thin wife.

Then they had to face the next challenge: getting in shape without changing their shapes. With the help of the people involved in the real (but tiny) sumo community in Israel, they trained twice a week for four hours for four months, much like the characters do in the movie — running, jumping rope, stretching and, of course, grappling. "We got to know the sport. You can't cheat about sports," Benedek says. He had a leg up as a former high school wrestler who regularly runs and swims, but like the rest of the cast, he'd never sampled sumo before. It was a grueling regimen and often dangerous (Benedek ended up breaking another actor's shoulder), but an effective one. "We all started climbing stairs more easily," he adds.

Another weighty issue was the detail of donning mawashi, the traditional loincloth sumo wrestlers wear that reveals just about everything. "It's even more embarrassing than being naked," Benedek explains.

And what's more, there's a scene when the sumo trainees need to walk home through a market in that getup. It seems funny on-screen, but it wasn't so amusing to shoot, because the director opted for realism — the folks laughing, staring and heckling them aren't extras, just people in an actual market in Ramle, Israel. "We got remarks about how big our asses were. It brings back high school when people are calling you names," he says.

Yet, those meanies have nothing on the film's nemesis, the witch of a woman who runs Weight Losers. In what must be the least supportive group environment ever created, participants are weighed and then berated for never doing well enough, and if they seem to be messing with her success rate by not slimming down, they're out. "That's the kind of critic dealing with being overweight in the wrong way," Benedek says. "You need to learn how to train and eat, not just measure your weight and tell you that you must lose it."

He describes it as a "coming out" film for the obese and one that speaks to anyone who feels like an outsider. But Benedek's curious to see how the message resonates in the United States, which he sees as more tolerant of larger folks. "When I go to the States, it's easy to buy clothes. It's very hard in Israel. Portions are bigger, seats are bigger," he says. Yet, he thinks that might not be the best way to live, either: "When I can't find clothes that are my size, I know I can't get heavier. I know there are these restrictions. Maybe in the U.S., I would be 30 kilos more."

One thing is for sure: "Size" matters.

Photo courtesy Washington Jewish Film Festival