Brash and impetuous factory worker (and shameless womanizing heel) Mike Snell quits his job so he can pursue his single-minded goal of becoming a major roller derby star. Moreover, roller derby champion Charlie O'Connell talks about his rise to fame and the hardships of being away from his wife while out on the road for several grueling months.
Director/cinematographer Robert Kaylor not only astutely nails the basic human need to rise above one's meager station and make something out of one's life by following one's dreams, but also presents a fascinating exploration of the bleak hand-to-mouth existence of the low middle-class in the early 1970's and how the violent nature of the roller derby sport blatantly panders to the public's base interest in brutal spectacle. The way Kaylor shows the radical contrast between the likable and down-to-earth O'Connell who lives in a fancy home complete with big kidney-shaped pool in California and the smarmy and deceitful Snell's far less glamorous plight residing in a shabby trailer with his long-suffering wife Christina, two kids, and fat'n'lazy deadbeat brother Butch speaks volumes about the fiercely delineated distinction between the haves and the have nots in American society.
Better still, Kaylor provides a wealth of striking and startling moments: O'Connell returning to the park in New York City that he used to skate at as a kid, Snell trying to convince a bank employee to loan him three hundred bucks so he can purchase a motorcycle, Christina confronting one of her unfaithful husband's mistresses and taking the woman to task for waking up her kids by honking her car horn while driving past the Snell home late at night, and one of Snell's friends talking about his experiences fighting overseas in Vietnam. Naturally, there's a good deal of rough'n'tumble roller derby footage, but it's the sly and sneaky manner in which this documentary reveals the sordidly compelling underbelly of everyday blue collar American life and the ruthless extremes some people are willing to resort to in order to make their particular American Dream come true that makes this film such a great gritty little gem.
Director/cinematographer Robert Kaylor not only astutely nails the basic human need to rise above one's meager station and make something out of one's life by following one's dreams, but also presents a fascinating exploration of the bleak hand-to-mouth existence of the low middle-class in the early 1970's and how the violent nature of the roller derby sport blatantly panders to the public's base interest in brutal spectacle. The way Kaylor shows the radical contrast between the likable and down-to-earth O'Connell who lives in a fancy home complete with big kidney-shaped pool in California and the smarmy and deceitful Snell's far less glamorous plight residing in a shabby trailer with his long-suffering wife Christina, two kids, and fat'n'lazy deadbeat brother Butch speaks volumes about the fiercely delineated distinction between the haves and the have nots in American society.
Better still, Kaylor provides a wealth of striking and startling moments: O'Connell returning to the park in New York City that he used to skate at as a kid, Snell trying to convince a bank employee to loan him three hundred bucks so he can purchase a motorcycle, Christina confronting one of her unfaithful husband's mistresses and taking the woman to task for waking up her kids by honking her car horn while driving past the Snell home late at night, and one of Snell's friends talking about his experiences fighting overseas in Vietnam. Naturally, there's a good deal of rough'n'tumble roller derby footage, but it's the sly and sneaky manner in which this documentary reveals the sordidly compelling underbelly of everyday blue collar American life and the ruthless extremes some people are willing to resort to in order to make their particular American Dream come true that makes this film such a great gritty little gem.