A long time ago, when I was just getting into Japanese toys (and still had things like Spawn figures in my collection – *shame!*) I ran across a doll from Xebec toys (a branch of Kaiyodo) called “Mr. No”.
Mr. No is a Japanese wrestling character from the manga/show Tiger Mask. The figure in question depicts a wrestler strangely tall and thin for his chosen profession. Stranger yet is his face, which doesn’t exist. In its place are numerous red indentions spelling out the word “NO”. Rising up past where anyone’s head would normally terminate is an elongated, fleshy neck with a bulbous end. All rather suggestive of … something usually found nearer a wrestler’s nether regions.
Oh, to hell with propriety: I don’t wish to cast aspersions but Mr. No is pretty clearly a walking dick.
Beyond being shaped like a bipedal dingus in a red speedo, the toy also includes some intriguing accessories: 4 different hands – two for grappling, one to grip, and one with two fingers out, as if to poke eyes or, perhaps, order a drink for himself and a companion. The gripping hand is provided to … grasp a fork. Apparently there are places in Japan where one can dine and wrestle at the same time. Ah, Japan. Always so far ahead of those of us in the west who still insist on doing such things separately.
The last two accessories included with the toy comprise an alternate head for the figure; two pieces because it depicts Mr. No’s mask having been ripped from his head, leaving a tattered mass of the previously magnificent and fully erect *cough* head *cough cough* and the disgruntled face of the fellow inside the costume, oddly of far darker pigmentation.
I ask you – how could I *not* buy this toy?
And so I did, and so it has sat in my collection for some 15 years or so, now.
The funny thing is, I initially felt *I* was some kind of pervert for thinking Mr. No was rather phallic, so subtle is Xebec’s approach on the design. Well, I may be a pervert but Mr. No’s resemblance to a grade-a plooker is no mistake, as I found out while researching this blog post – to whit, I located a copy of Mr. No’s animated appearance and, folks, make no mistake: he’s a bemuscled, swaggering cock.
The animated episode involving Mr. No is pretty obvious in its symbolism: a giant penis appears in the ring to threaten Tiger Mask’s masculinity. At first, of course, the dick succeeds, literally browbeating our hero with his phallic noggin, stomping him in the guts when he is down, and watching impassively as Tiger Mask injures his hand against the unyielding surface of his protruberance. But, of course, Tiger Mask prevails in the end. Attenuating Mr. No’s vigor with a well aimed kick to the mini-me, Tiger Mask leaps onto his opponent’s shoulders and humps the massive schlong into submission. Once Mr. No is down, Tiger Mask rips off his Mr. No’s faux head, revealing the dismayed man beneath. How stirring! (and, at the time of this post, you can watch the bout here in its mind-boggling entirety, dubbed in exciting Italian!)
Interestingly (but perhaps unrelatedly) “no” is a word in Japanese, typically a possessive: ‘s, of, to, with, in, at, on, by, for, from, etc. So does the ‘No’ on Mr. No’s neck mean “negative” or does it indicate some kind of possession? Further, who the hell cares?
Back to the toys.
It was only in my more recent incarnation as a collector of vintage Japanese vinyl figures that I discovered and delved further into the strange legacy that is Tiger Mask.
Not being a fan of wrestling (or “wrasslin'” as it is sometimes called by its more vociferous proponents) in any form beyond that which might include myself and one or more scantily clad young ladies, I didn’t dig too deeply into the story behind Tiger Mask beyond noting that it was not unlike the WWE in our country or those colorful, masked and grappling ninnies down yonder in Mexico. My interest in the figures remains purely aesthetic and based mostly upon two particular characters: Skull Star (as previously seen here) and Mr. No, both produced in pudgy vinyl by Japanese toymaker, Nakajima.
Nakajima produced some wonderful vinyl figures in the 70’s and I found myself interested in a number of their offerings beyond the two mentioned above. Unfortunately, I discovered the toys right around the time that the moths and lint in my bank account caused me to discover fiscal restraint: reality enforced fiscal restraint. Like all good addicts, however, I simply bided my time and, when the opportunity to blow too much hard-earned cash on something totally stupid appeared, I jumped.
Much to my delight, a reissue of the large-size toy was now available in lovely, glowie vinyl. Many of those who collect toys such as these will sneer at my decision to buy a new, rather than vintage, figure proving that even the narrow-minded need something to make themselves feel superior from time to time.
My wife was nonplussed when I pulled this admittedly disturbing toy out of the box – “that thing is horrible!” she was heard to say. I wasn’t too surprised. A toy hobby such as mine is predominantly a male obsession but, in this particular instance, I think there is some room for disagreement. At this scale, a Mr. No toy could *easily* please anyone …
i have been besmirched
you narrow-minded bastard, you.