I saw the The Crash Reel several days ago after its debut on HBO. It has resonated with me ever since -- mostly because of the story and the humanity of its protagonist, the World Class snowboarder Kevin Pearce -- but also because of the exquisite soundtrack that director Lucy Walker utilized to fuse this very emotional subject to the viewer's experience.

Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) is a silent and insidious condition. The difficulty of documentaries such as this is that they tend to portray the victims in as positive a light as possible, with the most optimistic of outcomes. The sad truth of many survivors is that their lives are extremely difficult as they work inordinately hard to maintain just a fraction of the life they used to live. The documentary only hints at these lingering deficits, and it is impossible to know the truth of where Mr. Pearce presently stands in his recovery. I would muster to guess that his life is much more restrictive and frustrating than the movie suggests. This is the primary reason for my less than perfect rating. I would have preferred a more honest assessment of Mr. Pearce's functionality post-injury instead of what I viewed as an unnecessary, though human, detour into the struggles of one of his brothers with Down Syndrome.

The Crash Reel is one mountain of an emotional journey. It starts as one thing and it blossoms, changing its mind frequently but touching all possible ground for its subject. At first, it's a montage documentary from sports footage about a rivalry nearly worthy to be this year's Senna. Then it becomes a film about recovery, then a comeback film, then a film that spreads awareness about the incidents of extreme sports, but then it results in a film fittingly about accepting who you are. Despite shifting focus in a stream-of-consciousness way, it's still a very human story and it's told so elegantly and coherently that it's almost difficult to believe some shots are real because it's so ideal for the scene. Director Lucy Walker has a great sense for capturing the drama. It's the tragedy of someone not being able to do their life's passion that is truly felt even if the unfortunately true arrogant attitude of snowboarders lead me to struggle to sympathise with some of them at times. Perhaps if the documentary was framed with hindsight of Kevin Pearce's ultimate change at the start of the film then it wouldn't feel so unfocused but nevertheless, it never diminishes its emotional power as it tells us the physical and psychological expense athletes of extreme sports go through. An essential documentary for the year with vibrant visuals, kinetic editing and great soundtrack too.

8/10