If you're like me and could care less about motorcycles and are not even the least bit fascinated watching some grandstander perform risky (however impressive) stunts, then you might as well know at the outset that this here film is about a man who was known in his lifetime for being the greatest motorbike stuntman the world has ever seen. You may have heard of him. Robert Craig Knievel was his name; also and more commonly referred to by the moniker, 'Evel,' no doubt intentionally misspelled if only to keep 21st-century documentary reviewers on their digital toes.
Aside hearing from Mr. Knievel's two middle-aged sons, Kelly and Rob, we also get to hear from a few interviewees speak of their experiences working for the world-famous showman as part of the Knievel crew. I found Gene 'Sully' Sullivan to be the most interesting of these -- a commenter, commendably frank and objective -- a friend of the superstar, yes, but no worshipful brownnoser, unlike the celebrity fans who are heard from in this, whose screen presence and casual chatter do nothing to enhance our understanding of the film's subject. Still, I got a joy out of being able to mute Kid Rock and Matthew Mahogany or whatever the heck his name is.
Listen to Sullivan tell it like it is and about the only one who does, in refusing to defend Knievel's infamous act of violence, an incident which had the American icon beating up a PR person with a baseball bat; a crime that turned out to be the eventual undoing in Knievel's career, costing him much-deserved bad press and his reputation as a man of inner strength and character, who as tough-skinned as he presented himself to be could not even take simple and honest criticism from an author (Shelly Saltman), who published neither stick nor stone but merely an innocuous textual mirror.
One contemporary buddy of Evel's speaks of Knievel's fondness for "women, bars" and "booze." Another tells of Knievel's younger days, prior to his becoming a media sensation, of his having been a shoplifter and a reckless motorist. It is no surprise, then, why many a 'cool dude' looks up to this guy in complete adulation and as a hero. Evel Knievel, after all, lived large and in the fast lane, loved fame and dabbling in derring-do, and for this was a chick-magnet.
Is it any wonder, then, that the venturesome Robert Craig Knievel would turn to Christ in the latter years of his life, or at least to watching the unctuous entertainer Robert Schuller on television? Really, now, if ever there was a daredevil made for heaven it was Evil, er, Evel.
One mustn't overlook Mr. Knievel's remarkable humility, either, such as the dream he had to jump the Grand Canyon. Suffice it to say, had it not been for an ejection seat and a parachute, he would have never lived to tell of the attempt. God must have been watching out for him, was the opinion of at least one spectator who witnessed the blooper.
Despite I AM EVEL KNIEVEL being for the most part draggy and perhaps for diehard fans only, dare I say it has its moments and is kinda watchable, as in the several scenes of footage showing the skilled stuntman flying through the air on his trusty motorcycle only to wipe out and be tossed about like some crash-test dummy. (Methinks guardian angels are not always on duty.)
Aside hearing from Mr. Knievel's two middle-aged sons, Kelly and Rob, we also get to hear from a few interviewees speak of their experiences working for the world-famous showman as part of the Knievel crew. I found Gene 'Sully' Sullivan to be the most interesting of these -- a commenter, commendably frank and objective -- a friend of the superstar, yes, but no worshipful brownnoser, unlike the celebrity fans who are heard from in this, whose screen presence and casual chatter do nothing to enhance our understanding of the film's subject. Still, I got a joy out of being able to mute Kid Rock and Matthew Mahogany or whatever the heck his name is.
Listen to Sullivan tell it like it is and about the only one who does, in refusing to defend Knievel's infamous act of violence, an incident which had the American icon beating up a PR person with a baseball bat; a crime that turned out to be the eventual undoing in Knievel's career, costing him much-deserved bad press and his reputation as a man of inner strength and character, who as tough-skinned as he presented himself to be could not even take simple and honest criticism from an author (Shelly Saltman), who published neither stick nor stone but merely an innocuous textual mirror.
One contemporary buddy of Evel's speaks of Knievel's fondness for "women, bars" and "booze." Another tells of Knievel's younger days, prior to his becoming a media sensation, of his having been a shoplifter and a reckless motorist. It is no surprise, then, why many a 'cool dude' looks up to this guy in complete adulation and as a hero. Evel Knievel, after all, lived large and in the fast lane, loved fame and dabbling in derring-do, and for this was a chick-magnet.
Is it any wonder, then, that the venturesome Robert Craig Knievel would turn to Christ in the latter years of his life, or at least to watching the unctuous entertainer Robert Schuller on television? Really, now, if ever there was a daredevil made for heaven it was Evil, er, Evel.
One mustn't overlook Mr. Knievel's remarkable humility, either, such as the dream he had to jump the Grand Canyon. Suffice it to say, had it not been for an ejection seat and a parachute, he would have never lived to tell of the attempt. God must have been watching out for him, was the opinion of at least one spectator who witnessed the blooper.
Despite I AM EVEL KNIEVEL being for the most part draggy and perhaps for diehard fans only, dare I say it has its moments and is kinda watchable, as in the several scenes of footage showing the skilled stuntman flying through the air on his trusty motorcycle only to wipe out and be tossed about like some crash-test dummy. (Methinks guardian angels are not always on duty.)