Most documentaries about extreme sports are a celebration of the feats of derring-do done in the name of those pursuits; the limits people will push themselves to, the thrills, spills and adrenaline rushes. Not so The Crash Reel. Despite the name (referring to the term for a compilation of dramatic accidents and crashes), Lucy Walker’s film looks at what happens when things go terribly wrong for snowboarder and Olympic hopeful Kevin Pearce.
In 2009, he’s at the top of his game, competing with rival and former friend Shaun White for top spot, as they push themselves harder and try ever more difficult tricks in the lead-up to the Vancouver Winter Games. Pearce loves the lifestyle and the camaraderie that comes with snowboarding but he’s deadly serious about his sport and being the best at it.
All that changes when he falls on his head when practising on a half pipe (where snow is piled up in a 20 foot high ‘half tunnel’). Captured on amateur video, it’s a sickening moment as you see his body slump when he hits the deck, blood coming out of his eye and mouth. He’s knocked unconscious and in a coma for days. Suddenly the fun, excitement and bravado of snowboarding seem a long way away.
Most of the film deals with Pearce’s rehabilitation after the accident which left him with brain trauma injury (BTI), a process that takes more than two years and has profound effects on his family. The Pearces are a caring, close-knit bunch who are instrumental in his recovery but have to bear the huge emotional strain involved.
At times, it seems like their son might not recover but he does. With his recovery comes his desire to get back out on the slopes again which brings tension, disputes and further heartache – especially for Kevin’s older brother David, who has Downs Syndrome and is devoted to Kevin, not wanting him to risk another life-threatening accident.
This is when the film reaches its emotional zenith, as the Pearce family plead with Kevin not to snowboard again but he slowly comes to realise himself that his brain injuries mean he’s not the person he used to be – and certainly can’t do what he used to.
Mixing archive TV clips and home video in with her own documentary footage, Walker creates a moving portrait not just of Kevin Pearce but also of his family. She manages to convey both the excitement of snowboarding – some of the moves on show are astonishing – and the heart-wrenching consequences of Kevin’s accident with sensitivity and not a trace of mawkishness.
The Crash Reel also has a brilliant soundtrack which perfectly captures the highs and lows of the film and the sport. A moving, involving and intimate insight into the psychology of a top athlete and those around him.
