"Brutal Beauty: Tales of the Rose City Rollers"

Brutal Beauty: Tales of the Rose City Rollers, 2010

Dir.: Chip Mabry

Prod.: Chip Mabry

For those of you who don't know, as of March 2013, I became a proud member of the Jerzey Derby Brigade, a women's flat track roller derby team! It's one of the best decisions I've ever made! Our captain Doom Hilda is an amazing and hard-working leader, and my teammates are some of the toughest, funniest, most supportive and encouraging ladies I have ever had the pleasure of being associated with. It has been hard and challenging, but twice a week, I lace up my skates and pad up within an inch of my life and work my ass off on learning everything from how to skate on one foot to how to whip a fellow player (don't worry, that's not as cruel as it sounds). It's helping me build my confidence and be a little more outgoing in social situations. I've made amazing friends and I've been having a frigging blast! 

I wanted to cover a derby-related documentary for this blog first thing I dove right back into it, but Prostitution: Behind the Veil caught my interest first. As I was searching through Hulu, I found a documentary that I had put on my original list of to-watch documentaries waaaaaay back from 2011, when I first started this blog! I found Brutal Beauty! 

One thing I have learned ever since starting derby myself was that you cannot trust what you see on films and TV about the sport. They make it look easy. I'll be the first to admit that the reason why I joined derby was because of the movie Whip It. But I knew from the day I decided to join that I wasn't going to be on the roster any time soon. I hadn't strapped on a pair of skates since elementary school. Now, well, I'm not gonna say I'm good or anything, but at least I don't look like an asshole. Thankfully, the JDB is an amazing support system and even if I'm feeling down on myself for things like not being able to execute a smooth transition (read: turn around while skating), I get a knock on the helmet from one of my teammates and the words, "It's okay, you'll get the hang of it."

Anyway, enough of me rambling. Brutal Beauty tells the story of the Rose City Rollers of Portland, Oregon, and their 2008-2009 season. It opens with a montage of skates being laced up, pads being strapped on and skaters weaving through bright orange cones, accompanied by the sounds of skates on the floor, players shouting to one another, and whistles blowing. I'm immediately choked up - by now I know these sights and sounds like I know my own heartbeat.

Rose City Rollers founder, who goes by the derby name Rocket Mean, says that roller derby is "indicative of the culture of young women in America."

Skater Blood Clottia explains that it gives women "an alter ego".

"I was captain of the cheerleading squad in high school," says skater Marollin' Monroe, a curvaceous blonde bombshell with a husky voice. "The universe wanted me to be a derby girl. I obliged it."

Rocket Mean launches into the origins story of the Rose City Rollers. In 2004, three friends - Rocket Mean, Jeff and Yvette - were having drinks at a bar. Jeff was the one who suddenly says, "We need to start a roller derby league." At the time, there was no derby in Portland. They planned for nearly two months, meeting every single night at the bar, before they began skating and recruiting. They only place they had to practice was the basement of a bowling alley that they rented out at $200 a month. Once they began to understand the rules more and had a better grip on things, the league grew at a rapid pace.

The league grew to thew point where it was eventually divided into four local teams: the Break Neck Betties, the Heartless Heathers, Guns N Rollers, and the High Rollers. Then there are two travelling teams: the Wheels of Justice and Axles of Annihilation, that compete on a national level.

"It gave us the camaraderie we were all kind of looking for," Rocket Mean adds.

There are discussions about the origins of their derby names, their quirky costumes, and, of course, the one thing synonymous to derby: injuries. Broken ribs, sprained ankles, fractured legs...everytime you step onto the track, there's a potential for injury. Skater and co-captain Angry Wrench, who is interviewed from her living room couch with her foot in a cast, describes it as "going to the bathhouse without a condom every Friday night."

My favorite part of the documentary has to be when the High Rollers' coach, a lean mean donut-making machine who goes by Rob Lobster, demonstrates the basics of roller derby rules using - what else? - donuts.

My other favorite part was an interview with skater Rhea Damage and her husband Jason, who admits that ever since his wife began roller derby, it has taken the top spot over football as his favorite sport and refers to his wife as his "favorite derby girl" (say it with me: Awwwww!!!)

"Men can get passionate about a sport when they're playing it," Jason explains, "But women...it's a whole other level. I mean, these girls devote themselves to it, and they don't even get paid!"

It's true - we actually have to pay dues to play. But ask any roller derby girl if that matters and they will say "Hell NO!" Seriously. At least three or four girls who are interviewed in this film say the exact same line: "Roller derby saved my soul."

It's true for both the skaters and fans alike. Derby is a sport that's for everyone - no matter what your size is, no matter what your skill level is, no matter what you look like.

The Rose City Roller girls - as well as my Jerzey Derby Brigade family - come from all walks of life. Women who are librarians, acupuncturists, and day care teachers strap on skates and become another person entirely when they're on the track. My own team consists of women who are lawyers, therapists, musicians, nannies and stay-at-home moms. That's what roller derby does. It takes whatever kind of mood you're in and immediately turns it on its ear, transforms it into something bigger and better.

Honestly, I spent most of this documentary crying my eyes out. It made me fall in love with this sport all over again. If I wasn't a derby girl now, I would have been immediately after seeing this film. It made me remember all of the beautiful, friendly, intelligent women that I am surrounded by weekly. They are instantly accepting of who you are and where you come from. Once you're in, you're in. I've only been a JDB member for a little less than two months and it feels like forever. I get hugs and advice and encouragement. I sweat, I laugh, and though sometimes I get frustrated, I will never quit.

....Sorry, how did this post become all about me all of a sudden?

Anyway. I have one complaint about the film and that is I wish I had seen more of a perspective from a beginning skater (or "fresh meat", which is the correct derby lingo). These girls have all been skating and on the roster for months or even years. I would have liked the film to follow at least one newbie, someone who was closer to my own experiences. But you know what? That's okay. The film gave me something to aspire to.

If you've ever had any inclination about joining roller derby, watch Brutal Beauty and I promise you, you will be hooked. It's a love affair you will never regret!

Oh, and of course, don't forget to support your local roller derby teams! :D

For more information on the Rose City Rollers: http://www.rosecityrollers.com/
For more information on the Jerzey Derby Brigade: http://www.jerzeyderby.com/

To find local derby near you: http://www.derbyroster.com/

"Prostitution: Behind the Veil"

Prostitution: Behind the Veil, 2004

Dir.: Nahid Persson

Prod.: Jakob Hogel, Nahid Persson

OK I know it's been a long time - almost a year - since I last posted. I promised I would come back and to be more devoted, then I made one post and poof! There I go again. Frankly, I am ashamed I couldn't make the commitment. But, to be fair, at the same time I was aiming to come back, I was planning my wedding. Yup! I got married in September! Go us! It wasn't easy but we had a lot of help from friends and family and we had a great day. 

Anyway, I really, really want to get back into this project of documenting documentaries (har-dee-har-har). I really do love the genre and there's just so many, on so many different subjects! Last time I tackled a pretty lighthearted subject with God Is the Bigger Elvis. This time, I have a bit of a darker subject to tackle: the state of women in Iran. 

Filmmaker Nahid Persson was born in Iran, however she escaped to Sweden in 1982 when Islamic fundamentalists took control. Seventeen years later, she returned, shocked to discover poverty was rampant and social justice had deteriorated. 

Iran used to be one of the most liberal Muslim countries. Now, however, the Koran is considered law, and religious infractions are considered crimes, punishable by imprisonment, torture and execution. 

In Prostitution: Behind the Veil, Persson chronicles the struggles of two women she meets quite by accident during a visit to Iran. The film is narrated by Nahid Persson herself. She first meets Habib, a man who works as a fortune teller using parakeets. Yes, parakeets. Apparently this is a really common thing! The guy sets a parakeet down and the bird picks a fortune out for you and you pay for it. I kid you not! 

This is not a screenshot from the documentary but it's the closest thing I could find. 

Anyway, Habib is run off the street corner he is fortune-telling on by the religious police and Persson and her crew end up following him home. Habib lives in a tenement building with ten other people with no running water or toilets, just a water pump in the courtyard. While there, Persson meets Fariba and Mina, two young women in their early-to-mid 20s, with a child each, who make their living through prostitution. 

They live in tiny rooms with barely any furniture and rags covering the windows. There are no locks on their doors. They have no beds but instead sleep on the floor with their children. They casually chat as Persson films and Mina threads Fariba's eyebrows, which are as thick and unruly as Frida Khalo's. 

They talk about sex and what they do to make a living, but also about the guilt and shame they feel. They talk about their methods of birth control - condoms are preferred, because they protect them against diseases (they are both fond of flavored condoms). Persson explains that when Islamic power rose in Iran, they banned all contraceptives. Because of this, the population doubled within a short period of time. By the time the government realized their mistake and lifted the ban on contraceptives, it was too late and overpopulation was already a growing concern. Fariba also tells Persson that the religious police tend to look the other way when it comes to prostitution, and confesses that she herself has slept with the chief of the religious police, and he paid her $20. "He was rough," she adds."I didn't like it."

Later, as the girls smoke heroin together, Fariba pulls out a photo album and says she wants to "show that we didn't always live like this." 

Fariba was married to a young man from a respected, wealthy family. Her brother-in-law was a medical student. Her father-in-law was a literary professor. Less than a year before this interview, Fariba's husband was arrested for drug use, and sentenced to life in prison. Mina's story is shockingly similar. Her husband is also in jail, serving a 35-year sentence for smuggling, selling drugs and murder. He was the one who was responsible for getting Mina addicted to heroin. 

In the film, Persson introduces us to the concept of a sighe. It is something that is perfectly legal in Islamic Iran. It is when a man takes on an "extra" wife that he can later sell to another man for a profit. During the time of the sighe marriage, which is negotiated with a verbal contract and then sealed by a mullah (Islamic clergy), the woman must act as a wife must - she must cover her head, ask her husband for permission to leave the house, and service him in bed. Sighe marriages can last any period of time, from ten minutes to 99 years, and the woman is often paid a fee for her participation. 

Habib, the parakeet fortune teller who is a man of about sixty, makes a sighe marriage of six months with a 17 year old girl that he'd only known for about ten minutes. Persson narrates that girls in Iran are married off as young as nine years old. It turns out that Mina has a sighe that she has a two-month contract with. She shows Fariba the marks on her body where he has cut, kicked and scratched her, and cries as she confesses he hits her 20-month-old daughter as well. 

One thing that I wished Persson covered more in the documentary was how Mina and Fariba solicit their customers. I know that sounds like an odd thing to say, but for a documentary called Prostitution: Behind the Veil, she does not focus very much on the actual profession of prostitution. She follows Mina and Fariba only one time each. Heartbreakingly enough, they are forced to bring their children with them as they solicit, since there is no one else to watch them. Fariba makes $5 off a cabbie, who forces her to buy condoms from a nearby pharmacy because "it isn't right" for him to do it himself. He allows Persson to film him as he drives and haggles over price with Fariba, telling her that he wants people to see that Iran has gone to hell. Mina picks up two young men in a car who pay her $10 each. They drive her and her baby to their apartment. She hands the baby off to one of the men as she goes into the bedroom with the other. "When he's done, you can come in," she says, flicking her head scarf over her shoulder. 

Persson reflects more on the concept of sighe marriages and the religious power oppressing the women of Iran more than the actual act of prostitution and how so many women fall into that trap. She mentions how grateful she is that she can return to Sweden where she has opportunities, and women in Iran cannot and do not. 

There was really no moral or message to this documentary. Persson does include an epilogue about Fariba and Mina, but the information is sparse. I wish she had gotten more interviews with more prostitutes. She does manage to talk to Fariba's sister-in-law and mother, but no one from Mina's family. I would have liked a little more background on the girls. 

Though I was intrigued and saddened by the information I learned in the documentary, I really wish it had a little more meat on its bones. It did make me grateful that I have grown up in a country where I am not considered property, and where I can get an education and vote and make my own choices. Persson made it very clear that she was glad she left when she did. But I feel like the film lacked something, and it was probably more stories, but I thank Nahid Persson for making this film and showing us what is going on in other parts of the world that we have no idea about.