Whip It: With Apologies

This sweet little film stands on "high school outsider" comedy conventions, adept action sequences, and intuitive, likeable characters. Drew Barrymore, I am one of so many ignorati at first drawn to, then cautiously wary of, your directorial debut. What a fool I am. I'd like to think I waited so long to see this film because I was interested, but not in love with what seemed an exact copy of Juno, minus being preggers. More than likely, it was passive chauvanism regarding the female sport movie concept. I can be a real asshole. Despite small issues, Whip It is a resounding success, even if it grossed only $3 million more than it cost. I am sorry I wasn't there to help plug this film when it needed it, Shauna and Drew.

Leaning on the conventions of an underdog plot, screenwriter Shauna Cross adapted her slick Roller Derby novel into an equally hip film about a sport on the rise. With the help of acclaimed Director of Photography Robert Yeoman, Barrymore pursues pure realism in the action and dialogue sequences. Equally important, however, are the lovingly staged, character accenting, visually expansive locations and shots Yeoman has made famous. Balance appears in all facets of Whip It, thanks to Barrymore's ability to surround herself with all the right people.

The subtelty of Ellen Page's character, "Bliss Cavendar", and transformation of her demeanor - likewise all of her friends (Derby and non) - makes the role believable and testifies to Barrymore's work behind the scenes. Purposeful characters and moments carry the weight when the plots thin, and allow for unconventional twists amidst familiar conflicts. Dry, understated wit by the main characters sets them apart in a hyper-realistic realm, especially compared to the more bombastic, over-acting antagonism of the outsider film caricatures.

Again, balancing the two testifies to the prowess of the debutante director Barrymore. If a choice seems too predictable, she meta-critically comments on it, as when Bliss drops the famous, "We deserve better villains." She also doesn't dwell on those hollow antagonists - those conventional caricatures. She crafts them into spectres of Bliss's omniscience, making them seem narrated by the main character.

Except in Jimmy Fallon's case. Fallon, as "'Hot Tub' Johnny Rocket", plays with all the subtlety of a Vaudeville act. His game-calls, rules reminders, and one-liners display the insane energy required of an emcee reinforcing necessary information for an audience only mildly conscious of the sport, without sounding overly explicative.

These successes are as much a product of the casting, acting, and preparation for this film as they are of Barrymore's ability to elicit the most from each during the entire process.

My only complaint is the middle act. From about minute 45 (about the time Landon Pigg sings an appallingly stupid song and tries to act like he can be a sexy, brooding lead singer), a half hour is solely dedicated to Bliss's new relationships. I understand why, but some bits seemed too slow and transparent. It's the right time and space to explore Bliss, but the wrong moments are expanded. Here is where the Hurl Scouts' characters and roles in Bliss's development on and off the track could better serve the tempo of the film while also lending proof of the team's rapid improvement with their new teammate (and running Coach Razor McGee's plays). Instead, Barrymore hints at the action on the track in attempts to retain the early energy during slower scenes. Action sequences diminish to the level of conflict building segue. With that said, she addresses the predictable friction, but quickly shifts focus back to the stories of note.

Impressively, all of the actors did their own skating, with the only stunt doubles credited to Page and Barrymore's stand-ins. The action sequences are aggressive, fast, and unique (mostly because of the sport, but still), the tender scenes accented by that dry wit. The love story works less because of the chemistry, but the growth of the main character through it is essential. In the end, there is so much to like about the production itself: original score choices are outstanding, especially the recurring theme debuted when Bliss first glimpses Austin's Derby Girls. Andrew "Futureman" Wilson kills in his headband, cut-off jorts, roller-hockey blades, and knee brace, as "Coach Razor McGee". The entire cast of heavy hitters (literally in Zoe Bell's case) is spectacular in their own ways. Really, there's a great deal to enjoy in this one. I am sorry for being a sexist pig, Drew Barrymore. But at least I can admit my faults. Like Birdman says, "I mean, did anybody bother to think, 'Hey, Birdman might appreciate hot girls in fishnets and roller skates beating the crap out of each other?' No, they did not."

I almost missed out. GO.