MURDERBALL

After being assaulted by endless hoards of futile, ridiculous, and horrifically bad “reality” TV shows over the past few years, I had almost forgotten that intelligent documentaries really do exist. Thankfully, directors Henry-Alex Rubin and Dana Adam Shapiro have successfully renewed my faith in documentaries with their film, Murderball, which cleverly examines the highly competitive world of wheelchair rugby (originally named murderball) through the eyes of the men who live and breathe this aggressive and emotionally charged sport.

The film opens calmly enough with brief introductions to some of the players and their favorite game (now referred to as quad ball); but, don’t get too comfortable. Without warning, you will soon be mercilessly thrown headfirst into a surprisingly volatile world where the twisted and damaged masters of murderball physically resemble the grotesquely modified wheelchairs they ride into combat. Once you are able to emerge from the state of shock caused by watching a group of men in wheelchairs yelling obscenities and aggressively trying to knock one another over, any preconceived notions you might have had about the handicapped is now gone, and this is only the beginning.

Murderball forces the audience into confronting an already difficult subject from an even more awkward point of view; and, before too long, you will find yourself laughing along with these “handy-capable” athletes as they reminisce about retraining themselves how to masturbate and theorizing about their failed attempts at picking up women in bars. One of the funniest scenes in the movie occurs when a determined 6 year old Tom Brokaw wannabe, complete with pen and paper in hand, approaches Bob (a member of Team USA) while he is signing autographs for a troop of young Campfire kids. Mini-Brokaw looks directly at Bob and asks a very serious question: “How do you eat pizza with your elbows?”

Ironically, at the same time you are laughing out loud at these hilarious antics, you are also subjected to the dysfunctional world of Joe Soares. From the moment Joe first appears on the screen, he comes across as a disillusioned, bitter old man who cannot accept that the reason he was cut from Team USA was due to age finally catching up with him.

An extremely narcissistic personality causes Joe to view himself as the eternal victim of everyone else’s intentional wrongdoings;and, he retaliates the only way he knows how: by trying to sue Team USA for cutting him and becoming the coach for Team Canada. Later, you almost have to laugh at Joe’s narrow-minded stupidity when he actually believes Team USA will take him back after he is fired from his coaching position.

Yet, hidden deep within the vindictive nature of his arrogant attitude is the affection Joe has for his son Robert. In a way, you feel as if you are watching a rare moment of compassion when Joe decides to share his trophy wall with his son. Of course, Joe’s numerous stacks of rugby awards and trophies completely overwhelm Robert’s lone ribbon which hangs in the middle of the wall high above his dad’s trophies symbolizing the unbalanced relationship between father and son.

Another key player at the center of Murderball’s eccentric cast is the official spokesperson for Team USA, Mark Zupan. While the car accident resulting in Mark’s paralysis is indeed a fascinating story, Rubin and Shapiro waste an excessive amount of time reliving Mark's accident which ultimately becomes the very detail that drags the film almost to the point of becoming sappy. By the time I finished traveling down that nightmare disguised as memory lane, I felt like I was watching a bad reenactment of Leif Garrett's fateful meeting with Roland on VH1’s Behind the Music.

In addition to lingering too long on the sob stories, the film also skims over and barely touches some of the basic information about quad ball which does detract from fully understanding the overall sports story. Yet, in spite of their overly dramatic personal histories, these handicapped athletes are characters with whom we can identify; and, Murderball remains a realistic documentary that is emotionally strong enough to avoid a predictable Hollywood ending.

This unique documentary is a refreshing alternative to the usual summer crop of Hollywood blockbusters because Rubin and Shapiro are able to create a compelling human interest story about exceeding the boundaries of physical limitations without overindulging in special effects. Murderball grabs your attention with fast-paced action, keeps you glued to the screen with intriguing characters, and leaves you wanting more long after the movie ends.

Not even Eric Cartman will be able to strap on his fake special-ed helmet and cheat his way through this version of quad ball any time soon. I can already picture Mark Zupan kicking Cartman’s ass all the way to Canada if he even thinks about trying.