I see that Murderball is on BBC4 tonight (which I have via my UPC digital tv, when either the cable box is working, they remember to switch on the BBC4 signal, and when my tv is actually working - so the odds aren’t actually that high). Not sure why it’s happening so fast. It only got a Dutch cinema release back in December or January. Anyway, it’s an interesting documentary and it reminded me to publish the review I wrote for Amsterdam Weekly back when it came out. I recommend checking it out the film, if not on tv tonight, then on DVD…

Up to now, the sport of quadriplegic wheelchair rugby has never been much of a headline grabber. It’s never in the scrum for television airtime and is unlikely to fill huge arenas, but judging by the action and characters of Murderball, maybe it should. Initial scenes of high speed clashes, metal on metal and customised chariot-style wheelchairs being flipped over on impact are simply captivating, as well as brutal, viewing. However, the scenes of sporting carnage are only a small fragment of what this 2005 Sundance Film Festival award-winning (Documentary Audience Award and a Special Jury Prize for Editing) documentary is about.

Following the players of the USA ‘murderball’ team at wheelchair eyelevel for a period of two years, events kick off at the 2002 World Championships in Sweden and carry through to the 2004 Paralympics in Athens, by way of three sporting acts, each focused on the burning rivalry between the American and Canadian teams. But in between the action–which isn’t as dominant as you’d gather from just watching the trailer–we’re given a very personal insight into the lives of the US players.

All the players are quadriplegic and have been left with varying degrees of movement, either from serious accidents or illness. Their scars and deformities are often vividly on display, as are their histories–how they ended up in wheelchairs, adapted to a new lifestyle, sought love and sex, and how quad rugby has reinstated dignity and purpose to their lives. It’s this that drives the film more than the sporting competition.

The primary American protagonist is Mark Zupan. The film opens in silence as we watch him battling to change into his training gear. It’s a simple action that most of us take for granted, but the scene isn’t there to gain pity or show how tough it can be without four working limbs.

Rather, it places Zupan’s need for independence right on the front line, and also marks him out as one tough bastard. He looks the part too, tattooed, with a buzz-cut and heavy metal goatee. His friends are quick to point out that he was just as bitter and twisted before the accident which broke his neck–as a teenager, he fell asleep in the back of his friend’s pick-up after a night out (the drunken driver was completely unaware of this), and was thrown from the truck after it spun off the road. Landing in a ditch, he saved himself by hanging from a branch for thirteen-and-a-half hours.

For the purposes of the documentary, Canada coach Joe Soares is portrayed as Zupan and his team’s arch-enemy. A former American quad rugby hero, he won every trophy going and he remains fiercely competitive: when he was finally dropped for being too old and slow, he attempted to sue the team selectors. After that fell through, in an act of ultimate defiance, Soares defected and headed north to coach the Canadians.

Screaming at the top of his lungs until it seems his head will explode, his passion for winning is at once both comic and terrifying. He must beat the Americans at all costs, and after he has a heart attack, he almost gets his wish. But as he recovers, the film offers a moving subplot, as you experience the bond growing between him and his young son Robert, who, unlike his dad, prefers playing the viola to sport.

The inclusion of Keith Cavill, a motorbike fanatic injured in a riding accident, is another reward. Whereas Team USA players have mainly adjusted to their situations, we are introduced to Cavill and his family as he struggles to come to terms with all he could lose in the first year of his rehabilitation. After a meeting with Zupan and a try-out in his specialist ‘murderball’ chair, you nevertheless see the glint return to his eye and the potential birth of a new quad rugby player.

Filmmakers Henry Alex Rubin and Dana Adam Shapiro and the players all maintain that Murderball is no feel-good hit. It isn’t seeking pity or even attempting to inspire others with any kind of sentimentality: to them, quad rugby is just reality. But the documentary can’t help itself; to the casual viewer, it doesn’t matter if USA achieve gold in Athens or not, but when you see the daily struggle the players undergo, the achievements they’ve made, and the effects the sport has on those coming to terms with a life-changing disability, you’ll do well not to leave the cinema both moved and inspired. By the time the Paralympics kick off in Beijing in 2008, there’ll be plenty more cameras pointing their way.