Thursday, December 7, 2017

Movie Review: Ballerina I'm Not (2017)

Ballerina I'm Not - USA - Sports/Documentary - PG-13
Written & Directed by Francesca Zappitelli
Starring Francesca Zappitelli, Christie Ricci (Christie Mathis), Shelly Martinez, Ken Yasuda, Julie Ginther, Stacy Keibler, *

*Not being a fan of wrestling I have no idea who these people are. I'll update this list when I have more time. Being this is a documentary these are all people appearing as themselves.


An informative documentary on the inside of women's wrestling that dares to pull the viewer out of their comfort zone is also a gripping underdog story which compels the viewer to connect beyond the assumptive and arbitrary.

Francesca grew up in a religious family. As a child, ballet was acceptable for little girls. But wrestling? Wrestling is where her heart was. It's where heroes existed, and she wanted to be part of that world. But the journey for a woman in that world has many hurdles a man never has to face. Ballerina I'm Not is the story of her journey not only facing challenges reserved only for her gender, but facing a challenge from one of her own as the underdog.

Up front I'll state that I am not a fan of wrestling. As a kid growing up in the South I was, because it's what the adults in your life watched and so you watched it too. But beyond the facade of a TV show which preyed on ignorance and prejudice for ratings was nothing for someone who developed a disdain for violence. Life is a journey. Things you accept for their superficial flair as a child evaporate into the thin air from which it was made as you become an adult. But childhood dreams do remain. Influences from our formative years, whether something to escape from, or escape to, are the things that drive us further in a journey through life, and Ballerina I'm Not on the surface is a wrestling documentary, but take away that periphery of trappings and at its heart is a genuine nugget of a woman's journey in life regardless of the means by which she treks.

Beautiful women, scantily clad, slapping, hitting, tits a flopping and bouncing, lots of skin showing, rolling around with their bodies firmly pressed against each other. You know, this could sound like the introduction to a film on my other website. But this doesn't belong there. The biggest challenge up front for a viewer, especially men, is to get out of their comfort zone when watching this film.

I grew up in a traditional nuclear family as it was called. A father, a mother, I was obviously the son (shaddup smartass), and I have a sister. I think my sister would agree that my mother was tougher on her than on me. It wasn't favoritism. I don't think it was unusual for girls to be raised with expectations of having it tougher than boys. Certainly society hasn't proven parents wrong as most anything, certainly in the United States, has hurdles for a woman to overcome that is automatically granted to a man.

When I grew up it wasn't uncommon, say in a classroom setting in elementary school, for someone to ask what you wanted to become when you grew up. It also wasn't uncommon for the boys to be asked what they wanted to become and the girls to be asked who they wanted to marry. In those same classes cold war films were shown. Those short films about communists and how their ways were wrong. Yet, in retrospect, those same things they told us the commies were doing are the same things we were doing; we just called it by a different name.

Social structure by gender was taught from a very early age. In the crib we used different colors. As boys and girls got older, boys were given play tools and girls were given dolls to pretend they were their babies. And if they ever swapped them they were scolded. Our parents did not invent these things, or conspire to delineate us by gender, but they were raised with the same social divisions of gender to pass on to their own children.

And even today that taboo of social structure lingers and haunts us. How can it not? It's been ingrained in society for longer than organizations have stood. For longer than nations and governments have stood. And of course the males of societies, in larger part, have embraced this. Why not embrace something that basically grants you automated social supremacy based on nothing more than having been born with a penis?

The sad part is, men are not the smarter or tougher of the species. I once commented on an article about disaster movies and the default so common in movies of men saving the world that there are actually quite a few disaster movies with women as the leads. And as is par for course for an industry controlled by men, disaster movies where women are the protagonists have them solving problems by using their brains rather than brawn. Yep, we men are just so smart (sarcasm).

And where is this mini rant going and what does it have to do with Ballerina I'm not? Well that social structure is a large part of our comfort zones, for men and women, and when we step out of it, we are made either uncomfortable, as the viewer, or our challenges are amplified multi-fold, as a female wrestler. The natural response for a guy is that this is something a lady should not be doing. The natural feeling for a guy is to be excited by the exhibition of female flesh in the ring. And both of these things add to the already uphill battle a woman faces in a man's game, especially when that game is in perhaps the most testosterone fueled form of sports entertainment.

From the very start of Ballerina I'm Not it is obvious that Francesca Zappitelli is a beautiful and well proportioned woman (by the time I have finished this review I will have earned several slaps most likely). The tits and looks factors alone in this film are worth the price of admission. But that's not what this film is about, and conversely at the same time that's part of exactly what it's about.

Seeing wrestlers portrayed as superstars, even superheroes, as young children watching wrestling on TV, these ladies were inspired by people they saw as heroes, and villains too. Even entertainment superstars like Cyndi Lauper were inspirations. For Francesca, being raised in a strict, religious family, these were not the things little girls do. Ballet was allowed, even encouraged, but a ballerina she was not. A wrestler is what she idolized and a wrestler she would become.

But being a woman, the wrestling world is going to look at you and treat you differently. Big beefy guys get big checks for prancing around a ring in character while women are used as decorations, and their checks are comparatively very small. Unlike their well paid male counterparts, a woman in this industry often has to branch out into other venues of the fighting sports including catfighting, Mexican wrestling and ultimate fighting, all of which carry greater risks and offer relatively smaller paychecks than their male counterparts in their comparatively cushy day-jobs (my words).

Being wrestlers is what these women aspire to. Male or female it should not make a difference, but it does. Things they have to endure to make it would make grown men cry, yet it is these same crybabies (my words again) who look down on them as women and treat them as eye candy. Even though there are several million women who are wrestling fans (yes, I was surprised too) the dominant audience is male and the dominant appeal to that audience are the tits and looks factors.

Ballerina I'm Not is not an exposé of wrestling. It does, however, provide insights into things like fight choreography, scripting, the use of razor blades for blood fights among other things. This film is not shy about giving some of the lowdown on wrestling, but it is not in any way primarily about that. What insider information comes out is from the frankness and natural course of the narrative rather than trying to hide behind the usual glib showmanship and BS common to professional wrestling, as it's called.

It is a little rough around the edges in places. Handily in one scene where the audio is not that strong, subtitles are used to make up for that. The camerawork at times is rough, but this was shot documentary style, and using footage from various sources, meaning uniformity in audio and video is lacking; but this is again a documentary and there's nothing uncommon about that. Overall the editing successfully puts together a coherent and strong presentation from various sources shot over a period of many years; no easy task for sure.

Two things which work strongly for this film are the narrative structure and connecting with the audience. Francesca has certainly done her homework in using a linear timeline in her narrative broken up by sidelights which clarify things in the main narrative, and amplifies and/or parallels a connective part of the story, such as one part which focuses on the challenges of a female ultimate fighter facing off against a male fighter who thinks women can't be good fighters and therefore has no respect for her. And hence this frames an important and connecting element of the film: earning your due respect.

Beyond the documentary of the challenge to women succeeding in a testosterone dominated arena and the lengths they have to go to that no man will ever have to experience is also a challenge to the central character against another female fighter for whom she has great respect but that same respect is not reciprocated. The challenge is enhanced by a scene in which Francesca flubs a leg drop and ends up giving the other woman a bloody nose. It's a moment most of us would probably not want on our highlight reels, but Francesca uses it to connect with the viewer.

Anyone who has ever been derided in their job by a superior or co-worker with more experience will certainly feel her pain in this scene. Certainly the more experienced wrestler does not soften the moment by throwing her experience in Francesca's face. Being her occupation is fighting, she plans what a lot of us would probably like to do with a superior or co-worker: taking it into the ring with her.

The challenge Francesca faces is a gripping part of the film. Though many will probably make a connection to Rocky in an underdog story, and that certainly is illustrated by the use of the movie poster at one point in the film, for me the connection is with Here Comes the Boom, the Kevin James film of a teacher who gets involved in ultimate fighting to save another teacher's career. In that film there is a moment in the final match where Kevin's character tries to touch knuckles with his opponent, a show of respect, but the opponent refuses. By the start of the third round his opponent touches knuckles with him because he has earned his respect.

Here Comes the Boom is a story. Some are not going to make the connection with earning your opponent's respect. Ballerina I'm Not drives this home with showing first the uphill battle, well illustrated by one scene, Francesca faces just by being a woman in the fighting sports as well the battle she faces as the underdog against a contemporary. Maybe men just have to touch knuckles, but a woman has to jump hurdles...and lots of them.

And as I often ask myself when I wrap up a review, and you're probably sick and tired of it, is where do I go in rating this? At it's most basic level of telling a compelling story it succeeds very well. At another level of making it compelling beyond the skin factor to a guy who not only proudly proclaims to be a fan of sleaze but is no fan of wrestling, it succeeds very well. At a minimum I would rate such a film 3 Plus Fingers. But the connection with the audience and the gripping underdog part of the film has me wanting to take my rating up a notch. And of all things I just upgraded my rating while I was writing this last paragraph. To hell with just a notch.

My Rating: 5 Fingers. I give it a high five!


Ballerina I'm Not Website

Ballerina I'm Not on Twitter

Ballerina I'm Not on Amazon Video

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