Without a trace of political correctness, Murderball tells the gritty and often amusing tale of the highly competitive, but unfortunately obscure sport of wheelchair rugby. But don't offer these hardcore athletes any sympathy: They don't want any.

Story

Played in steel-reinforced wheelchairs that look like something Mad Max would ride across the sands of post-apocalyptic Australia, quad rugby--a Canadian invention once called "murderball"--has grown into a full-fledged Paralympic sport. Once referred to as chess with violence, the game is played on a basketball court with four players to a side, each with a rating of .5 to 3.5, depending on upper body mobility (yes, quads can move their arms). Ratings for each team cannot exceed eight points. We first meet Team USA's star player, Mark Zupan--his red-devil beard, tribal tattoos and furrowed brow tells us he's someone you want to keep on your good side. Next we meet Joe Soares, perhaps the best athlete in the game's short history--his home is filled from floor to ceiling with trophies and medals. Age, however, has curtailed his skills, and Soares fails to make the team's cut. Feeling betrayed, he switches allegiance and becomes head coach of Team Canada, earning the scorn of his former teammates, especially Zupan. The film then follows both teams to Sweden where they collide at the 2002 Wheelchair Rugby Championships. Zupan and Soares continue to have a special distaste for one another, trading sharp looks and hurling insults across the court. While the teams prep for the big match, we learn what it's like to be quadriplegic. Players talk candidly about meeting women (many will be surprised to learn that quads can indeed have sex) and how they were injured. Most poignant is Zupan, who was thrown from the back of a pickup truck driven by his best friend, Chris Igoe, after a night of heavy drinking. The two haven't spoken in years, but Zupan--surprisingly optimistic despite his menacing features--has forgiven his old friend. In a strange way, he considers being quadriplegic as the best thing that has ever happened to him. Meanwhile, Team USA--undefeated for 11 years--takes a hard loss in Sweden, thanks to the coaching of Soares. As the documentary ends, the down but not out Team USA is picking up the pieces to train for last year's Olympic Games in Athens, where they will once again face their Canadian nemesis.

Direction

Smashing stereotypes to bits, filmmakers Henry-Alex Rubin and Dana Adam Shapiro bring us into the world of quadriplegics without resorting to cheap sentimentality. They hit all the right notes despite this being their directing debut and their candid approach allows us to see these guys for who they really are: Unrelenting and bordering on fanatical, Soares yells through half the film, and even badgers his nerdy son for not being a jock. Zupan is tough on the court but shows his sensitive side when spending time with his girlfriend. Bob Lujano, a top player on Team USA, is unashamed about missing the lower half of his limbs and uses his advantage to play practical jokes on unsuspecting Olympic athletes. Another top USA player, Scott Hogsett, enthuses when recalling his first post-paralysis erection--the nurse giving him a sponge bath was pleased with his recovery. And Keith Cavill--a former speed junky recently injured in a Motocross accident--finds new hope with the possibility of once again riding hell-bent on wheels. In between the smashing wheelchairs and heavy metal soundtrack are moments of anguish mixed with fleeting glory. Without giving too much away, Team USA faces its biggest challenge in Athens, and Soares--whose red-faced ranting leads to a heart attack that settles him down just enough to enjoy his son's non-jock accomplishments--gets his comeuppance, despite leading his team to a medal. Though a few technical problems exist--murky cinematography and muted sound--all are overshadowed by the strong storytelling and engaging honesty.

Bottom Line

Honest, funny and poignant--but never preachy--Murderball is one of the best documentaries made about people with so-called handicaps. Expect this to get a nod come Oscar time. It well deserves one.