Tag: MMA documentaries

Fight Flicks Review: Fight Life Offers a Candid, If Well-Traveled Look Into the Mind of an MMA Fighter

There’s a moment early on in Fight Life in which Jake Shields laments (or comes as close to it as he can while retaining his trademark roboticness) the negative effects his career has had on his personal life.

“Everyone’s always like, ‘What are your hobbies?’ and unfortunately, I don’t really have any hobbies because MMA is my hobby, my job, my career. My whole life revolves around it at this point, you know?”

It’s a statement that both serves as the mission statement of the aptly named Fight Life and one that would perhaps support the idea that MMA fighters are not the most intriguing subjects around which to base a documentary. Fighters fight for their families, or to overcome demons from their past, or simply because it’s all they know. While these may be considered fresh revelations to the most casual of MMA fans, it’s nothing that a seasoned fan of the sport hasn’t been treated to a zillion times over in the lead-up to a UFC event or boxing match. As a result, Fight Life winds up feeling less like an intimate look into the personal lives of guys like Shields and Beerbohm and more like an 80-minute Countdown episode.

Chronicling the lives of Jake Shields and Lyle Beerbohm (among others) in the lead-up to their 2009 fights with Robbie Lawler and Duane Ludwig, respectively, the documentary from James Z. Feng is an equally inspiring and underwhelming look at the daily struggles and triumphs of the professional mixed martial artist. Part of the blame for the film’s shortcomings can be placed on its subjects — or at least Shields, who has never been a charismatic individual despite his accomplishments. But really, the biggest issue facing the film is its outdated perspective. MMA has undergone several huge changes in the time between when Fight Life was shot and its release, and neither Shields nor Beerbohm have exactly become the dominant forces that the documentary attempts to set them up as.

That’s not to say that Fight Life is absent of any compelling moments, however…

There’s a moment early on in Fight Life in which Jake Shields laments (or comes as close to it as he can while retaining his trademark roboticness) the negative effects his career has had on his personal life.

“Everyone’s always like, ‘What are your hobbies?’ and unfortunately, I don’t really have any hobbies because MMA is my hobby, my job, my career. My whole life revolves around it at this point, you know?”

It’s a statement that both serves as the mission statement of the aptly named Fight Life and one that would perhaps support the idea that MMA fighters are not the most intriguing subjects around which to base a documentary. Fighters fight for their families, or to overcome demons from their past, or simply because it’s all they know. While these may be considered fresh revelations to the most casual of MMA fans, it’s nothing that a seasoned fan of the sport hasn’t been treated to a zillion times over in the lead-up to a UFC event or boxing match. As a result, Fight Life winds up feeling less like an intimate look into the personal lives of guys like Shields and Beerbohm and more like an 80-minute Countdown episode.

Chronicling the lives of Jake Shields and Lyle Beerbohm (among others) in the lead-up to their 2009 fights with Robbie Lawler and Duane Ludwig, respectively, the documentary from James Z. Feng is an equally inspiring and underwhelming look at the daily struggles and triumphs of the professional mixed martial artist. Part of the blame for the film’s shortcomings can be placed on its subjects — or at least Shields, who has never been a charismatic individual despite his accomplishments. But really, the biggest issue facing the film is its outdated perspective. MMA has undergone several huge changes in the time between when Fight Life was shot and its release, and neither Shields nor Beerbohm have exactly become the dominant forces that the documentary attempts to set them up as.

That’s not to say that Fight Life is absent of any compelling moments, however. Featuring interviews with everyone from veteran referee Big John McCarthy to NFL Hall of Famer-turned MMA fighter Herschel Walker, the documentary explores not only the mentality it takes for one to become a top-level MMA fighter, but the daily struggles of maintaining such excellence while balancing whatever semblance of a social life fighters are privy to. It also takes a look at the fire through which such a mentality is often forged, especially so in the case of Lyle “Fancy Pants” Beerbohm.

Learning how Beerbohm, a former meth addict, discovered his passion for mixed martial arts while watching The Ultimate Fighter from behind bars is a humanizing moment that many fighters (or at least, more than us MMA fans would care to admit to) could likely identify with. The same goes for the moments devoted to Beerbohm’s adorable (and slightly resentful) parents, who after serving as enablers to their son’s addiction for years, have rallied behind his newfound career and the more positive outlook on life it has given him. His mother even offers some insight into how Beerbohm came to be known as “Fancy Pants” thanks to a collection of old fabrics and her crack sewing skills.

Fight Life similarly resonates when (briefly) discussing the relationship between Shields and his daughter, who he raised on his own while working full time, training, and taking classes in college. At the time the documentary was being shot, we learn that Shield’s daughter was following in her father’s footsteps by enrolling in Jiu-Jitsu classes. She also packs an armbar capable of tapping out her old man despite being a white belt, which is pretty badass if you ask me.

In any case, it’s those moments between fighter and family that I’d prefer to see documentaries like Fight Life explore more of. Fighters on Jake Shields’ level are essentially PR robots that have been groomed into spitting out the same cliche responses for years now, which makes the average interview with them anything but interesting. I know that every MMA fighter wants to be a champion. I know that every MMA fighter wants to be “the best.” You want to offer some *real* perspective into what the life of a fighter is like? Talk to their families. Talk to their (non-fighting) friends. Talk to anyone but the fighters themselves, then use what you’ve learned to get the fighters to truly open up. Asking a fighter to describe their life with complete objectivity and honesty is like basing your opinion of someone solely on their Match.com profile.

Take the matter-of-factly way in which Shields’ daughter is introduced and just as quickly never discussed again, for instance. We learn that she is taking BJJ classes, and that Jake makes as much time for her when he can, but why not ask his daughter about her father’s busy lifestyle and the effect it has on their relationship? Why not ask Jake about the difficulty of being a single parent (which is never even touched on) or his lifelong vegetarianism? MMA fighters, like any of us, can be compelling figures if you ask the right questions, or really, any based around something other than their jobs.

If I am sounding critical of Fight Life, it’s only because the documentary presents several intriguing opportunities to cash in on these revealing moments before ultimately choosing to focus on the training and fights themselves. I can’t blame Feng for doing so, as a documentary about MMA fighters absent of fights would likely lead to riots in the streets from some of the sport’s more boisterous fans. Then again, The Smashing Machine opts for such an approach and is considered one of the, if not the greatest MMA documentary of them all (especially among the CagePotato staff).

But maybe that’s not the documentary that Fight Life is trying to be. Its thesis is, after all, that the life of a fighter is fighting, fighting, fighting, and also training. And that’s all well and good, but for the hardcore MMA fan perhaps hoping to get a little more perspective into the hows and whys of guys like Shields, Fight Life will only partially satisfy. The documentary would, conversely, serve as an excellent introduction to casual fans of the sport or even naysayers who still feel that MMA fighters are nothing more than blood-hungry savages seeking a cathartic release in the most legal fashion possible. What? You didn’t think those people simply went away, did you?

–J. Jones

[EXCLUSIVE] Fighting in Plain Sight Director Edward Doty Discusses His Upcoming Documentary of Rafiel Torre, MMA’s Most Infamous Journalist Turned Con Man and Killer

(The Fighting in Plain Sight campaign video via IndieGoGo.)

By Jared Jones 

Mixed martial arts was facing an identity crisis in the early aughts to say the least. The UFC had just been purchased by the Fertittas, who were slowly attempting to shed the “human cockfighting” label the sport had acquired in its early years. Although athletic commissions around the country were beginning to adopt the unified rules put into place by Jeff Blatnick, John McCarthy and Joe Silva, a large majority of fights on the local level were still contested in underground, unsanctioned events. There was no fame or fortune fueling these warriors of the early days; there was only passion.

At the center of all this was Rafiel Torre, a charismatic reporter, former undefeated fighter and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu Black Belt who covered all aspects of MMA for such prestigious publications as ADCC News and Submission Fighter. Considered one of the most notorious journalists of his day by those closest to the sport, Torre interviewed countless top fighters in an effort to promote and help showcase the human side of mixed martial arts during a time when most audiences viewed it as borderline criminal.

In February of 2001, Torre announced that he was coming out of retirement, supposedly to settle a vendetta with a former student of his, the 300+ pound Ioka Tianuu. The fight transpired at King of the Cage 7 and, aside from being one of the most obvious works in the sport’s history, would ultimately serve as the catalyst to Torre’s demise. Four years later, Torre would be convicted of first degree murder and sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.

Attempting to chronicle this unbelievable story is Edward Doty, a filmmaker and mixed martial arts enthusiast who has been documenting the sport for some 15 years. His first MMA documentary, Life in the Cage, is a must-see for “real” fans of the sport, but it was Doty’s close relationship with Torre that spawned the documentary he is currently attempting to crowdfund through IndieGoGo, Fighting in Plain Sight. We recently sat down with Doty to discuss his love of the sport, the facade that was Rafiel Torre, and what he is looking to accomplish with Fighting in Plain Sight. 

CagePotato: As an amateur filmmaker early in his career, was it the spectacle inherent in MMA that drew you to the sport? 

Edward Doty: I began training in Traditional Martial Arts (Yang style Tai Chi Chuan and Jing Mu Kung Fu) in 1993. In the September ’93 Issue of Black Belt Magazine, I saw an ad for “Tournament to Determine World’s Best Fighter!” I called the number, and Rorion Gracie picked up. It was the line to the Torrance Academy. Being the punk 15 year old that I was, I asked, “Yeah, do you guys have an under 18 division?” clearly not realizing what it was they were trying to do. After a pause, he said, “No….18 and over only” and hung up.

A couple years later I was doing Forms Competition at the Ed Parker tournament in Long Beach, and SEG had a booth set up, advertising UFC 3 and showing UFC 2 on a small TV. The fight? Pat Smith vs. Scott Morris. My life changed at that moment. There was just something so authentic about it. It was exhilirating, kinda scary, but most of all, honest. I still appreciated what I was doing, but it became clear over the next couple of years that Martial Arts was never going to be the same, and that was probably for the better. Two months after turning 18, I fought in the Team USA Shidokan in 1996 and promptly got my face caved in. Even so, I still loved training, and I began BJJ at Jean-Jacques Machado’s academy in 1997. I still train, albeit sporadically, and am a Purple Belt under Eddie Bravo.

My freshman year of college I realized I wanted to take my equally passionate love of Film and make that my career. In 1999 while attending a Neutral Grounds show promoted by my friend Bobby Razak, I realized that there were stories within MMA that needed to be told. That was the genesis of my first film, Life in the Cage.


(The Fighting in Plain Sight campaign video via IndieGoGo.)

By Jared Jones 

Mixed martial arts was facing an identity crisis in the early aughts to say the least. The UFC had just been purchased by the Fertittas, who were slowly attempting to shed the “human cockfighting” label the sport had acquired in its early years. Although athletic commissions around the country were beginning to adopt the unified rules put into place by Jeff Blatnick, John McCarthy and Joe Silva, a large majority of fights on the local level were still contested in underground, unsanctioned events. There was no fame or fortune fueling these warriors of the early days; there was only passion.

At the center of all this was Rafiel Torre, a charismatic reporter, former undefeated fighter and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu Black Belt who covered all aspects of MMA for such prestigious publications as ADCC News and Submission Fighter. Considered one of the most notorious journalists of his day by those closest to the sport, Torre interviewed countless top fighters in an effort to promote and help showcase the human side of mixed martial arts during a time when most audiences viewed it as borderline criminal.

In February of 2001, Torre announced that he was coming out of retirement, supposedly to settle a vendetta with a former student of his, the 300+ pound Ioka Tianuu. The fight transpired at King of the Cage 7 and, aside from being one of the most obvious works in the sport’s history, would ultimately serve as the catalyst to Torre’s demise. Four years later, Torre would be convicted of first degree murder and sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.

Attempting to chronicle this unbelievable story is Edward Doty, a filmmaker and mixed martial arts enthusiast who has been documenting the sport for some 15 years. His first MMA documentary, Life in the Cage, is a must-see for “real” fans of the sport, but it was Doty’s close relationship with Torre that spawned the documentary he is currently attempting to crowdfund through IndieGoGo, Fighting in Plain Sight. We recently sat down with Doty to discuss his love of the sport, the facade that was Rafiel Torre, and what he is looking to accomplish with Fighting in Plain Sight. 

CagePotato: As an amateur filmmaker early in his career, was it the spectacle inherent in MMA that drew you to the sport? 

Edward Doty: I began training in Traditional Martial Arts (Yang style Tai Chi Chuan and Jing Mu Kung Fu) in 1993. In the September ’93 Issue of Black Belt Magazine, I saw an ad for “Tournament to Determine World’s Best Fighter!” I called the number, and Rorion Gracie picked up. It was the line to the Torrance Academy. Being the punk 15 year old that I was, I asked, “Yeah, do you guys have an under 18 division?” clearly not realizing what it was they were trying to do. After a pause, he said, “No….18 and over only” and hung up.

A couple years later I was doing Forms Competition at the Ed Parker tournament in Long Beach, and SEG had a booth set up, advertising UFC 3 and showing UFC 2 on a small TV. The fight? Pat Smith vs. Scott Morris. My life changed at that moment. There was just something so authentic about it. It was exhilirating, kinda scary, but most of all, honest. I still appreciated what I was doing, but it became clear over the next couple of years that Martial Arts was never going to be the same, and that was probably for the better. Two months after turning 18, I fought in the Team USA Shidokan in 1996 and promptly got my face caved in. Even so, I still loved training, and I began BJJ at Jean-Jacques Machado’s academy in 1997. I still train, albeit sporadically, and am a Purple Belt under Eddie Bravo.

My freshman year of college I realized I wanted to take my equally passionate love of Film and make that my career. In 1999 while attending a Neutral Grounds show promoted by my friend Bobby Razak, I realized that there were stories within MMA that needed to be told. That was the genesis of my first film, Life in the Cage.

CP: If you wouldn’t mind, could you give our readers a brief rundown of who Rafiel Torre was, or rather, who he claimed to be?

ED: The abridged version is that he owned a school outside of 29 Palms and coached some local fighters on the regional So Cal shows (Empire 1, Neutral Grounds, etc). His claim was that he and his father were from Brazil and were Black Belts in Jiu Jitsu. He worded it so you just assumed BJJ, and I do recall him saying his Dad trained with some of the Gracie’s first students. He also claimed a 17-0 record in unsanctioned Vale Tudo/NHB. Also, he was a Navy SEAL. Somehow, and I truly don’t know how, he competed in the first ADCC in 1998, and lost in the first round. He parlayed that into writing for the Abu Dhabi Combat Club News site, which raised his profile quite a bit. He was friendly, charismatic, articulate, and very passionate about the sport.

He did commentary for a couple King of the Cage events before coming out of retirement and “fighting” in KotC 7 against a former student. In many ways, he was a minor celebrity in the scene. He actually cornered Mark Kerr for one of his Pride fights. So by the end of 2000, he had a mostly good reputation for being a journalist/fanboy/advocate of the sport. Within a year, most of that would come crashing down.

CP: You’ve mentioned that you’re attempting to tell “the untold story” of Rafiel Torre, which is typically a Hollywood cliche but spot-on in his case. Why do you think that so little information currently exists about who Rafiel Torre was, why he got into MMA in the first place, or his murder case?

ED: That era was right when the Fertitias were about to buy the UFC, so the main story of MMA became the struggle to gain mainstream acceptance. That’s a compelling enough story on its own and during the time, the idea that the UFC could become big was occupying most peoples mental real estate. Keep in mind that while the murder of Bryan Richardson was in December of 2001, Rafiel wasn’t arrested until 2004, and convicted until 2005.

The MMA scene in 2005 had much happier stories to focus on, and a huge influx of new fans. I think the growing fanbase of MMA at the time was more interested in speculating about Wanderlei vs. Chuck then they were about a journalist that most fans hadn’t heard of. Also, for all his fame during the time, shockingly little film footage of him existed. It wasn’t until I was moving and going through all my old Life in the Cage raw footage that it occurred to me that I probably owned more tape of Rafiel Torre than anyone else.

CP: Do you think that Torre was able to get away with making such audacious claims because of the general infancy of the sport at the time? When did you personally begin to question his skills in your time together, if at all?

ED: I think Rafiel’s story certainly had a shelf life. He was going to be caught because at the end of the day, you can’t claim Black Belt in BJJ and never roll. With that said, he had a skill for slowly bending his story to where it could change without raising too many red flags. He went from claiming his dad taught him Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, to saying his dad had his own style, Torre Jiu Jitsu. That changed to, Torre Jiu Jitsu is based off Japanese Jiu Jitsu, and he’s Brazilian, so he could see where YOU got confused with that. One of my best friends writes for Cracked and he did this article called “7 Fighters Who Lied Their Way to Legendary,” and he worded it perfectly, “The nice thing about Rafiel’s lies were that they were fluid enough to flow around most scrutiny.” I’m frankly surprised it lasted as long as it did.

As for me, and I talk about this in my film, I was hired by King of the Cage to film fighter packages for KotC 7. I shot a bunch of B-Roll of him hitting pads and rolling. When I got home and really LOOKED at the footage…it was clear his skills, even on the ground, were nowhere near where he said. I was, at best, a blue belt at the time in terms of skill, but I had trained with Jean Jacques, Eddie Bravo, John Will, etc. There was a night and day gulf in skill level between them and Rafiel.

CP: The fact that you talk about the much closer sense of camaraderie that existed between MMA fighters/personalities during its early days makes it seem all the more improbable that a fraud could get by for so long on just the power of tall talk. How was Torre able to accomplish this?

ED: Talking about it with people after the facts, I was the last to figure it out. In my interviews with people, everyone had it figured out much sooner. This kind of coincides with when he left ADCC to start his own site, Fight Fan News. I think the wording of that is important. I theorize that he wanted to transition his reputation from fighter to fan. But, as people were starting to figure out at the turn of the millennium, the internet is sort of forever, and it is without mercy. It’s also important to note that prior to Zuffa and athletic comission sanctioning, 90% of these events were held on tribal land. Meaning, that for most to attend fights or events, it was a several hour drive for just about everyone. So while I was friends with Rafiel, I only saw him at events. This kind of transient nature of these friendships made the deception all that much easier.

CP: What went through your head while you were watching the Torre/Tiannu fight. Has Torre ever copped to the fight being a work? 

ED: As far as I know, he’s never admitted it was a work. I know for certain that no one at King of the Cage thought it was going to be a work; they thought they were legitimately booking a grudge match. At this point, Torre still had his reputation mostly intact — he was still writing for ADCC, and I believe he had started to do some commentary for KotC. He had also just cornered Mark Kerr, so really he was at his peak.

I was backstage interviewing Yves Edwards when Rafiel’s fight started. I wasn’t supposed to be cageside, but I snuck out there anyway. I had seen some of the fight from the monitor, but I made it to cage side right when Rafiel got side control. He started throwing these big, Kerr-esque knees to the body from side control. Real big wind up, high elevation knees. The only problem was, they weren’t landing. He was connecting with his thigh to a very large man. Essentially, they were pro wrestling knees. However, this was the infamous King of the Cage where it rained, and nobody was landing anything. Guy Mezger slipped everytime he threw a punch and Alex Andrade looked like he was ice skating for the first time. So for Rafiel to whiff on a few knees wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. But then he STANDS UP to get his knee bar. The leg doesn’t even extend, and Joe starts to tap.

At this point, I was just happy my friend won, but on second review of the tape, everything just started to coalesce together. But the last thing I wanted to do was accuse someone of working a fight, because there is NO greater insult in my mind. Also…I was 22 at the time. I didn’t know shit about what humans were capable of.

CP: Shifting the focus to Fighting in Plain Sight, was this documentary initially supposed to focus around Torre’s murder case, and/or was his history of deception only exposed after he was convicted?

My whole premise is: What is the end result about completely fabricating your identity? What’s the end game? If you knew Rafiel in 2000 and someone asked you, “Is he capable of murder,” no one would have said yes. But if I said to you, here’s a random guy who legally changes his name, lies about his country of origin, lies about his profession, lies about his whole identity, would that guy eventually be capable of murder? The answer, I think, is yes. Because while that person may not be inherently evil, you can only manipulate the truth about your identity for so long before it starts eating away at your moral center. Bear in mind, Rafiel proclaims innocence to the charge of murder. But under oath, he did not deny that he lied to everyone about his identity or his skills.

For me, I learned of Rafiel’s lies and about the murder on the same day. I also heard a number of stories at the time that were NOT in the short version but will be a part of the feature length version. My hope is by shedding light on his story, it serves as almost a cautionary tale about the dangers of lying to yourself. In this age of “Catfishing,” it seems as relevant as ever.

CP: The 8-minute film you’re looking to expand into a full-length documentary upon was shot in just 5 days. How were you able to accomplish this?

ED: The short answer is 1) I am lucky to have some extremely talented friends, 2) We had great access, and 3) I know what I’m doing and we all busted our asses. It’s surprising what one can accomplish when you give a shit.

We competed in the 2013 International Documentary Challenge. The morning of the competition you’re emailed your genre and your theme. Ours was Biography and the theme was “Harmony or Disharmony.” Once we got that email, we knew it was going to be about Rafiel. The wrench in the works was that I had JUST gotten hired to work as an Editor on Bellator: Fight Master and I couldn’t take time off. So for those first two days, I was working a 12 hour day, then coming home and working on the film. My guest house turned into our headquarters where 12 of us holed up under shockingly stinky conditions.

Day 1, We shot an interview with a behavioral Psychologist, that we never ended up using, and then we shot my interview. Then we edited all night. My composer started working on the score, and my Visual Effects Team started creating the “look” we gave all my archival footage. It was shot originally in just standard DV NTSC, but I wanted a sharper visual contrast between the old footage and the newer stuff, which was shot on RED Scarlet and the Sony EX-3. So Michael Scott and Teague Chrystie design this custom filter that made it look like beat to shit VHS, with magnetic lines and tracking hits, because subconciously that kind of takes the viewer back to that late 90′s era. Day 2, we hauled gear down to Downtown LA and interviewed Josh Gross. Edit all night. Day 3, we drove to Rancho Cucamunga to Interview Eddy Milis, then drove further into the Inland Empire to interview PunkAss from Tapout.

I joke that Rockstar XDurance became an unofficial sponsor during the shoot, larger keeping me alive. While I’m interviewing Dan, my Assistant Editor is transcoding and logging the Milis footage. Meanwhile, my Co-Editor Jeffrey Harrel was editing what we had existing. Saturday night, I got in the editors chair and cut the first 5 minutes, of our maximum 7 minutes of run time (plus 1 minute of credits). Narratively, that was the largest hurdle, establishing this world of Underground MMA, then extablishing Rafiel, then revealing the true story, and oh by the way…murder.

Day 4, we edited on three systems for 15 hours straight, VFX was working on titles. Our composer was finishing the score (I was cueing scenes to The Social Network Soundtrack and Bat For Lashes, and he was using that as inspiration). Sometime around 3 a.m. I locked picture. Then Day 5 I was back to work at Bellator, while color correction and audio mix was happening. I made a couple tweaks, and we mailed it off that night.

CP:  I imagine you’ve attempted to contact Rafiel since his conviction, but have you spoken to (or plan on speaking to) some of the outside players in his murder case, like Gerald Strebendt? Did you ever get to speak to/meet any of Torre’s family prior to his conviction?

ED: I just sent a letter off [to Torre] and it’s a long process to get in contact with an inmate. Gerald I consider a friend, and we’re former teammates at 10th Planet. He is going to be central to the feature documentary. In fact, part of our budget from our IndieGoGo campaign is so we can spend some time in Oregon and get a lot of film of Gerald. Also, and I have to be real careful here with what I reveal, Gerald has a LOT more to share and to say than what he testified to. I intend to let him.

Conversely, I want to give Rafiel all the time in the world to give his side of it. I have zero intention in making a 90 minute hit piece about Rafiel. That’s way too easy, and frankly not what I’m interested in. I’m interested not in the what, but in the how. Part of understanding the how, is to let Rafiel present his side. I don’t think prisoners at Corchoran have internet access, but I know that Rafiel is remarried, and that his loved ones are probably reading this. My appeal to him is that he was a part of the sport at a very crucial time, and he, as Dan Caldwell says in my short, helped build the sport. I’d like to hear about those times as well, from his perspective. Likewise, there is a man who is dead, and his family will never know peace. They too deserve to have their voices heard, and my hope is in the next couple of days that I’ll be speaking to them as well.

CP: In your interview with Carson’s Corner, you talk about wanting to flip the filmmaking trope of “telling a story through the eyes of a certain character” with your film, opting rather to tell the story “through the eyes of the era.” Do you worry that by continuing down the rabbit hole of early MMA, you could expose a lot about the sport that could be detrimental to its already shaky reputation amongst casual fans? Or is the focus of your film more on Torre’s tepid connection with the sport, rather than the sport itself?

ED: This sport has survived so much at this point, it’s not going to be hurt by one story. The time period of 1998-2005 (roughly the length of Rafiel’s involvement with the sport) is a wholly unique era of that will never exist again. If you treat that time period like a character, then it’s the ultimate coming of age story. For a lot of people, coming of age means having to say goodbye to people who were once dear to you, but are going to do nothing but bring you down if you stick around them. In many ways, that was Rafiel’s relation to MMA.

Rafiel thrived when the sport lacked mainstream credibility, when it was insular and largely unnoticed. Had the pond remained small, Rafiel would have been a big fish. But I don’t think it’s coincidence either that just as the sport started to grow is exactly when his identity unraveled. That is what fascinates me about this story, and it’s certainly a theme I want to explore in the feature.

For more information about Torre’s story or how you can help make Doty’s documentary a reality, visit the Fighting in Plain Sight IndieGogo page here. To check out the Fighting in Plain Sight 8-minute short film, go here.

Sad Video of the Day: ‘The Truth Behind Evan Tanner’s Death’

(Props: Bobby Razak)

“Never take for granted anything in life. Never underestimate the surroundings you’re in, be it the city, the mountains, the desert. Once you do, that’s when it comes to say hello to you.” — Charles Lucas, Supervising Deputy Coroner of Imperial County

In advance of a feature-length film about Evan Tanner called 1, MMA filmmaker Bobby Razak has released a 20-minute documentary about the former UFC middleweight champion’s tragic 2008 death from heat exposure, which occurred during a doomed solo adventure in the desert near Palo Verde, California. Through interviews with the coroners and rescue personnel who were directly involved with the case, “The Truth Behind Evan Tanner’s Death” describes the brutal circumstances surrounding Tanner’s last days, and what might have saved his life. It also clears up the theories that the death was a suicide (as some scholars have suggested) or that the famously-troubled Tanner had relapsed on alcohol. And contrary to initial reports, Tanner’s death apparently had nothing to do with his motorcycle running out of gas.

Watching this documentary five years after Tanner’s passing is like ripping open an old wound. Some of it is genuinely hard to watch, and credit goes to Bobby Razak for his ability to take viewers into the hostile environment that killed Tanner, and convey his mounting desperation. If you’d like to donate some cash to help Razak complete the full-length movie, visit the Evan Tanner Film Indiegogo page.


(Props: Bobby Razak)

“Never take for granted anything in life. Never underestimate the surroundings you’re in, be it the city, the mountains, the desert. Once you do, that’s when it comes to say hello to you.” — Charles Lucas, Supervising Deputy Coroner of Imperial County

In advance of a feature-length film about Evan Tanner called 1, MMA filmmaker Bobby Razak has released a 20-minute documentary about the former UFC middleweight champion’s tragic 2008 death from heat exposure, which occurred during a doomed solo adventure in the desert near Palo Verde, California. Through interviews with the coroners and rescue personnel who were directly involved with the case, “The Truth Behind Evan Tanner’s Death” describes the brutal circumstances surrounding Tanner’s last days, and what might have saved his life. It also clears up the theories that the death was a suicide (as some scholars have suggested) or that the famously-troubled Tanner had relapsed on alcohol. And contrary to initial reports, Tanner’s death apparently had nothing to do with his motorcycle running out of gas.

Watching this documentary five years after Tanner’s passing is like ripping open an old wound. Some of it is genuinely hard to watch, and credit goes to Bobby Razak for his ability to take viewers into the hostile environment that killed Tanner, and convey his mounting desperation. If you’d like to donate some cash to help Razak complete the full-length movie, visit the Evan Tanner Film Indiegogo page.

CagePotato Roundtable #23: What Is Your Favorite (Non-Rocky) Fight Movie of All Time?


(Because if Rocky movies were fair game, this column would just be all of us agreeing that Rocky IV was the greatest movie ever made.)

Since we already made a list of what we consider to be the best fight movies of all time, today we’re here to talk about our personal favorites. Just one small rule: In an attempt to keep this column from quickly degrading into a list of Rocky movies, we agreed that none of them would be eligible for inclusion. What we ended up with is a list containing a few legitimate classics, a few cult favorites, and the formula for a damn good movie night with your fellow fight fans this weekend. At least for those of you who won’t be streaming War MMA’s inaugural event on Saturday night, obviously. Read on for our picks, and please continue to send your ideas for future Roundtable topics to [email protected].

Ben Goldstein – who is making his triumphant return to the CagePotato Roundtable.

(Rather than pick just one memorable scene, we’ve included the whole documentary.)

John Hyams’s 2002 documentary The Smashing Machine is mainly remembered as a cautionary tale — a hard look at a hard sport, full of broken bodies, drug abuse, and predatory behavior of the physical and emotional varieties. And make no mistake, it should be remembered for all of that. It’s absolutely gut-wrenching to watch the downfall of an incredible talent like Mark Kerr, an alpha male who was utterly chewed up by professional fighting.


(Because if Rocky movies were fair game, this column would just be all of us agreeing that Rocky IV was the greatest movie ever made.)

Since we already made a list of what we consider to be the best fight movies of all time, today we’re here to talk about our personal favorites. Just one small rule: In an attempt to keep this column from quickly degrading into a list of Rocky movies, we agreed that none of them would be eligible for inclusion. What we ended up with is a list containing a few legitimate classics, a few cult favorites, and the formula for a damn good movie night with your fellow fight fans this weekend. At least for those of you who won’t be streaming War MMA’s inaugural event on Saturday night, obviously. Read on for our picks, and please continue to send your ideas for future Roundtable topics to [email protected].

Ben Goldstein – who is making his triumphant return to the CagePotato Roundtable.


(Rather than pick just one memorable scene, we’ve included the whole documentary.)

John Hyams’s 2002 documentary The Smashing Machine is mainly remembered as a cautionary tale — a hard look at a hard sport, full of broken bodies, drug abuse, and predatory behavior of the physical and emotional varieties. And make no mistake, it should be remembered for all of that. It’s absolutely gut-wrenching to watch the downfall of an incredible talent like Mark Kerr, an alpha male who was utterly chewed up by professional fighting.

But it also captures an incredible moment in time that will never, ever take place again. I’m speaking of course of the PRIDE 2000 Open-Weight Grand Prix — the greatest, most absurdly over-the-top MMA tournament in the history of the sport — which is captured in the second half of the movie. Among the competitors were old-school UFC legends who were already considered to be past their sell-by date (Royce Gracie, Kerr’s longtime friend Mark Coleman), international stars (Kazushi Sakuraba, Igor Vovchanchyn), and Kerr, whose career could have reached new heights in the tournament. Instead, it marked the beginning of the end.

Tournaments are inherently dramatic; it’s the reason why Enter the Dragon and Bloodsport are so often name-checked as the greatest martial arts films of all time. But fiction can’t hold a candle to real life, and The Smashing Machine was a perfect meeting of subject and style, full of cinematic moments that felt like they must have been scripted, but weren’t.

How about Renzo Gracie cackling manically as he introduces us to Ricardo Morais, reveling in Morais’s vow to show no mercy against Mark Coleman at PRIDE 8, as Morais swipes his arms along the water like some kind of nightmarish river monster?

How about Mark Kerr’s friends staging an intervention around his hospital bed after Kerr suffers an overdose, breaking the hulking wrestler down to tears?

How about Kerr succumbing to exhaustion in his epic battle with Kazuyuki Fujita — who rightfully earned his “World’s Greatest Chin” reputation that night — but successfully leaving Fujita too damaged to face Coleman in the semi-finals? In the end, Coleman advances to the finals and avenges Kerr’s previous beating at the hands of Vovchanchyn with a series of brutal knee strikes to the head, the same technique that Vovchanchyn used to stop Kerr the previous year. Sacrifice and redemption. You couldn’t write it any better.

May 1st, 2000, was a farewell to MMA’s prehistoric age. It featured the last great eight-man tournament in the sport’s history, and the first loss suffered by Royce Gracie. And while Coleman enjoyed the last heroic moment of his career, Kerr faded away. His most embarrassing losses were yet to come, and mercifully, the documentary ends before we get to see them.

Nathan Smith


(“Honey” Roy Palmer vs. “Hammerhead” Hagan: criminally overlooked when discussing the greatest movie fights)

“Fight movies” are a dime a dozen, and to say that most of them are nothing less than cinematic dumpster fires would be a compliment. But every so often there is a beacon of hope that makes us believe in the genre again. That guiding light is what keeps us coming back in anticipation of discovering another Best of the Best – or at least something entertaining like The Hammer – but mostly we end up disappointed with the film and then ultimately pissed off with ourselves for spending the cash, optimism or both in hopes that lightning could strike again.

All fight films should be approached like anything Sensei Seagal has ever made (except Executive Decision – because The Lawman dies early on in that one AND because Judo Gene wasn’t there, so Seagal wrecked John Leguizamo’s ass during filming. I can’t quantify which is more hilarious), but the overwhelming majority of them seem to forget that they’re fight films, and spend too much time on characters and subplots that absolutely no one involved cares even slightly about. The end result is that watching most of them is like taking a shit when you are REALLY sweaty. Whether it is from your occupation or the gym or an athletic competition; leaving a dump while you are fairly lathered up with perspiration rarely ends in a satisfactory fashion. Whether it’s the never ending wipes, the lack of toilet paper or swamp ass, there is almost always a complication. Either way, both dropping a sweat deuce and watching a fight movie almost always leave you in a bad mood with a longing for a hot shower to wash off the filth.

Yet in the case of the 1992 boxing/con artist flick Diggstown, all parties entered the theaters (or more likely, their sofas before watching it on HBO or CineMax) feeling like they just did four miles of road work and dropped a deuce in a Porta Pottie, but then left feeling fresh as a daisy.

Even a quick glance over the cast will leave you scratching your head as to how this movie receives so little fanfare from non-fight fans. Prior to him being a plausible joke on Family Guy, multiple-time Academy Award nominee James Woods was doing real cinematic work (WATCH THESE, TATERS – Ghosts of Mississippi, True Believer and Salvador), and was cast as this film’s protagonist. Louis Gossett Jr. actually won an Oscar but got second billing to Woods and another Oscar nominee, Bruce Dern, was the antagonist; that means BAD GUY for you monosyllabic monkeys. The three main characters were ALL phenomenal actors, but if you throw in a young Roller Girl with Tex Cobb and the fat guy from Flatliners (who is god damn magnificent in his role), this is a virtuoso cast. Also, there is a small role for a very young Jim Caviezel in it. Ya remember him, right? He was JESUS CHRIST in Mel Gibson’s epic The Passion of the Christ – though in Diggstown he’s a boxer whose last words are “Fuck you Nigger” before he rightfully gets KTFO.

I am not going to give a plot line or a step-by-step retelling of what you will most certainly get off Wikipedia, but I urge the younger CP audience members to expand your horizons. Guys like ReX13 and me spread the word by passing along the VHS love of UFC during the early days of MMA and most of you are reaping the benefits. So take a little bit of “Get the FUCK Off My Lawn” advice from the old guys. Though it is not Enter the Dragon or Raging Bull – which are obvious choices that all you keyboard warriors will fault us for not choosing – Diggstown is pretty damn good. So, get on your new-fangled smartphones or tablets or whatever do-hickey you whipper-snappers are using nowadays and look up Diggstown on NetFlix. You’re welcome in advance.

Seth Falvo


(Yes, that’s the great Jersey Joe Walcott portraying “George” in this scene.)

Long before most of us were born and any of us even knew what MMA was, The Harder They Fall was captivating audiences with its gritty portrayal of prizefighting. Obviously, parts of this 1956 classic are now laughably outdated; black-and-white televisions are incomparable to modern HD 3D TVs, mainstream ethnocentrism has been replaced by political correctness and the typewriter has been made obsolete by the computer. Yet to this day, despite the abundance of movies that have been made about fighting, there still hasn’t been a more honest portrayal of the fight business.

Perhaps the main reason why this movie’s successors- especially the ones about MMA – have mostly failed to be more than watered-down, bastardized Rocky clones is that they’ve gone out of their way to deny that professional fighting is a business. Fighting is not some vaguely philosophical practice of honor and discipline. It is not about “building character,” nor is it a battle between right and wrong. Fighting is a business – one that can be as ugly as any other.

Don’t worry, you don’t have to wait too long for things to get ugly for Toro Moreno, a none-too-subtle wink at Italian heavyweight Primo Carnera (To drive this home, the film casts Max Baer – who beat the tar out of Carnera during their title fight – as the heavyweight champ who destroys Moreno. Subtle!). It’s equally astonishing and tragic how much of this movie fight fans can still identify with almost sixty years later. Let’s see…blatantly fixing bouts? Check. A completely undeserving challenger bumped into a world title fight? Naturally (so the promoter can profit off of it!). A fighter being paid a disgustingly small portion of the money that he made for the promoter? You betcha. A reporter more concerned with earning a paycheck and staying on the promoter’s good side than publishing honest accounts? *puffs out chest* You better believe it. After all, exposing the business would mean losing a paycheck, and no self-respecting entrepreneur would willingly do that.

Ironically enough, critics once complained that the corruption on display throughout this film was “far-fetched” and “not convincing.” If you haven’t noticed, 1956 was a very naive time in our history.

It’s the ugliness of the movie that has made it hold up so well over time, and allows me to genuinely appreciate it. It’s not another bullshit “Guy dreams of being the best ever and he trains all day all guts no glory so he can be recognized as the greatest fighter and get to bang hot chicks and earn the respect of his fellow meatheads through punching other dudes VIRTUE and SACRIFICE and AFFLICTION SHIRTS AND TRIBAL TATZ AND NEVER BACK DOWN BRO!” flick, like most modern MMA movies. It doesn’t fall into the “underdog is automatically the good guy, cheer for him instead of his more talented, far more interesting opponent” rut that even great fight movies like Warrior fall into. No, this is an honest look at a deceitful business. Name one consumer who can’t appreciate that.

Jason Moles


(If you *didn’t* attempt an ill-fated split/groin punch combo after watching this movie, you’re smarter than most of our staff.)

Few movies have influenced a generation as much as Newt Arnold’s Bloodsport. Before NHB fighting arrived on American soil, Jean-Claude Van Damme lit up the silver screen, exposing thousands of impressionable adolescent males to the world of underground fighting through his role as Frank Dux and his quest to win the prestigious mixed martial arts tournament known simply as “Kumite.” This was the beginning of an epoch in which everyone and their brother got enrolled in Karate class at the local strip-mall dojo. Unfortunately, for many kids like me, my parents were too poor to afford formal training from a Sensei [Ed. note: That might not have been such a bad thing…]. As a last resort, I replayed my grandfather’s VHS of the movie until I could reenact the fight scenes with my eyes closed and often practiced the moves learned on my less than enthused sisters. Hey, it worked for GSP, right?

Besides its cultural impact on America’s youth, Bloodsport showcased almost everything there is to love about martial arts competition – amazing knockouts, brotherly love for training partners, authentic bad blood between fighters from opposing camps/styles, and a fighter launching himself off the referees back to execute a flying kick, just to name a few. The fight scenes from the Kumite are some of the most memorable for any guy between the ages of 25 and 45. You know what I’m talking about. Remember Dux doing the splits and then punching the rotund Japanese man in his sushi roll? What about the guy who strutted around like a monkey and somersaulted himself to victory? Still need convincing that Bloodsport is the greatest fighting movie of all time? Fine, just let me borrow your hammer, because I’ve got the final coffin nail for this debate. Above all else, Bloodsport is about honor. In the opening scenes, we’re shown a young miscreant named Frank Dux who breaks into a guy’s house in an attempt to swipe his Katana. Little did he know the old man was Ninjutsu master Senzo Tanaka. Dux apologized and fessed up, prompting Tanaka to take him under his wing and train him. After a premature death of Tanaka’s son, Shingo, Dux takes his place in the Kumite to honor Tanaka. Fast forward twenty minutes of the most awesome fighting montage with great 80′s music and you reach the summit – Frank Dux has become the first Westerner to win the Kumite and brings great honor to a man who went out of his way to mentor him. Much hespect, bro.

Anthony Gannon


(“The secret of his rage…can be revealed!“)

Okay, let’s get this out of the way right off the bat. Yes, Missing in Action II was a shameless and unapologetic rip-off of Rambo. But biting is pro forma in Hollywood, especially when it comes to martial arts movies. Who among us, while watching Never Back Down, didn’t realize they were witnessing an updated version of The Karate Kid? The only differences were modernity and the indubitable fact that Daniel-san actually deserved many of the beatings he received whereas Jake did not.

Unnecessarily harsh? Consider the facts: not only did Daniel boldly move in on Johnny’s bitch, but he hosed down the Cobra Cai whilst they were puffing a J in the bathroom stall, and he wore that ridiculous red jacket to pick up Ally at the country club. You just don’t do that kind of shit if you’re looking to keep your ass unkicked, especially when you’re the new kid in town.

Anyway, rip-off acknowledgment aside, let that not diminish the greatness of Missing in Action II. This cinematic masterpiece begins with a helicopter going down in enemy territory during the Vietnam War – which must have been an indescribably sickening feeling. Colonel James Braddock, faced with the horrifying decision to either die in a fiery crash or become a POW, instructs his men to jump, where they are captured and imprisoned in an underground pit by the evil Colonel Yin.

Braddock had a lot to deal with aside from being stuck in a POW camp that no one besides Francois and some crazy Australian photographer even knew existed. As the leader he had to volunteer for the old rat-in-a-bag-attached-to-your-head-while-hanging-upside-down-with-your-hands-tied-behind-your-back torture routine, watch as one of his men – bitch-ass Nester switched sides to become Yin’s cabin boy, suffer the indignity of being told his wife was getting tagged by another man, and if all that wasn’t enough he had to deal with Mazilli’s incessant whining the entire time.

Braddock finally decided he’d had enough after Yin administered a hot-shot of opium to his buddy, Sergeant Franklin and commenced to set him ablaze while he was still alive. Lighting a dude on fire is just a real shitty thing to do and goes against every rule of decency known to man. After that, Braddock went on his killing spree, easily taking out enemy soldiers, even flame-throwing a couple guys in an act of heinously poetic revenge.

Add to all this the fact that Braddock actually went back a decade later (in part one) to kill some more motherfuckers and rescue the remaining POWs and we can only conclude that the man was not only fiercely dedicated to his cause, but just took great pleasure in slaying him some Cong.

Chuck’s superhuman martial arts skills are put on display as he chokes the blood out of Nester’s traitorous throat with his leg chains, disposes of Yin’s soldiers with the one punch awesomeness of any quality action flick, and finally at the end when he beats the ever-loving shit out of Yin with minimal effort – even letting go of a lethal choke to deliver a little more pain.

Sure, no one was going to be winning any Oscars for their performances, but the Academy has long ignored the value of martial arts in film, even when it’s as socially significant as Missing in Action II. Yet a stupid piece of shit like The English Patient gets nine statues. But such is the way of those Hollywood douche-bags.

And, it’s Chuck man. What other martial artist is a walking meme? Websites, coffee mugs, t-shirts with such brilliant taglines as “Wrong MC Hammer, Chuck Norris CAN touch this” have been created in his honor. Hell, even Bruce Lee can’t say that.

Jared Jones


(Two full movies in one article. Looks like you won’t be accomplishing anything at work today.)

I know, I know. Why would anyone in their right mind pick a Jackie Chan movie that wasn’t The Legend of Drunken Master? And Rumble in the Bronx? That’s, like, the Black Album of Jackie Chan movies YOU UNEDUCATED ILLITERATE HACK GOD DANGA I HATE YOU WITH THE FIRE OF A THOUSAND SUNS.

If my choice didn’t already alienate the lot of you, this next fact probably will: I am a child of the 90’s. Although I was born just outside of the decade that bestowed us with such cultural gems as Suburban Commando, Thunder in Paradise, and Santa With Muscles (and those are just the made-for-TV, Hulk Hogan vehicles), I was as influenced by the content of the decade as much as anyone. I wore light up sneakers. I collected Pogs. I listened to Infectious Grooves (but definitely not Oasis. Fuck Oasis.). And while frequenting the video store in my town that doubled as some sort of redneck petting zoo, I shit you not, I stumbled upon Rumble in the Bronx, the goddamn greatest fight film of all time.

It was there that my journey into the genre of “fight films” began. I started with the other obvious Chan choices; Drunken Master, Operation Condor, First Strike, Who Am I?, then began broadening my horizons with the Bruce Lee films, the Chuck Norris films, hell, even a Seagal film or two (and you can take that to the bank!). In short, Jackie Chan and Rumble in the Bronx was the catalyst that would eventually lead me to the early UFC tapes, to CagePotato, and to the man with the greatest bar fighting tips of all time.

Personal reasons aside, why is Rumble in the Bronx the greatest blah blah blah of blah blah, you blah? Well for starters, it is one of only two films to date that successfully pulled off a “one man vs. an army” sequence (the other of course being The Protector). Secondly, aside from truly introducing Jackie Chan’s death-defying, environment-based and often brilliantly slapstick style of martial arts to a wider audience, Rumble in the Bronx also introduced me to the following:

1.) Multiethnic, Cartoonishly-Characterized Street Tuffs

2.) Street Racing ON THE CARS THEMSELVES.

3.) The Use of a Ski as a Deadly Weapon

4.)The Greatest Stuntman (and the greatest stunt) of All Time

5.) And last but certainly not least: Francoise Yip & Tiger Cage Strip Clubs

In conclusion, Rumble in the Bronx is the greatest fight movie ever, not only because of the nostalgic effect it has on me every time I watch it, but because of the unmatched fight choreography, Jackie Chan’s still unmatched ability to sacrifice his body in the name of art, the five star acting/dubbing, and the giant hovercraft.

Honorable Mentions: Surf Ninjas, Over the Top, Riki-Oh: The Story of Ricky, Hard Times

So what fight movie was your personal favorite? Let us know in the comments section.

‘Fightville’ UFC 145 Fight-Picking Contest: The Winners…

Thanks to everybody who entered our UFC 145 fight-picking contest last week! Many entered, but only three were skilled enough to claim the Fightville prize-packages, which include the movie’s official t-shirt from No Mas and a signed poster. The top three pickers were MoshuDragon, Alan K, and TheGangi, who predicted all three winners correctly, and picked unanimous decision victories for Jon Jones and Mac Danzig. Since MoshuDragon also guessed a first-round stoppage for Travis Browne, we’ll call him the unofficial first-place winner and throw in a CagePotato t-shirt.

If your name has been called, please send your real name, address, and shirt-size to [email protected] and we’ll hook you up ASAP. Follow Fightville on Facebook and Twitter, and watch it now on iTunes.

Thanks to everybody who entered our UFC 145 fight-picking contest last week! Many entered, but only three were skilled enough to claim the Fightville prize-packages, which include the movie’s official t-shirt from No Mas and a signed poster. The top three pickers were MoshuDragon, Alan K, and TheGangi, who predicted all three winners correctly, and picked unanimous decision victories for Jon Jones and Mac Danzig. Since MoshuDragon also guessed a first-round stoppage for Travis Browne, we’ll call him the unofficial first-place winner and throw in a CagePotato t-shirt.

If your name has been called, please send your real name, address, and shirt-size to [email protected] and we’ll hook you up ASAP. Follow Fightville on Facebook and Twitter, and watch it now on iTunes.

Review: ‘Fightville’ Captures the Highs and Lows of an Unforgiving Sport

(Props: movieclipsTRAILERS)

By Elias Cepeda

If you ask a movie reviewer what sets great movies apart from good ones, many would tell you that great movies are the ones that manage to transcend their premises. The Rocky series wasn’t about boxing; it was a story of an underdog who succeeded through hard work and determination in the face of impossible odds. Fight Club wasn’t about dudes beating each other up in basements; it was a dirge for our lost masculinity and the rise of anonymous consumerism.

And the new MMA documentary Fightville isn’t about the fighting; it’s about the struggle.

Directed by Petra Epperlein and Michael Tucker — who have previously collaborated on four other full-length features, including the Iraq war documentary Gunner Palace — Fightville is a gritty and thought-provoking glimpse into the human condition that should appeal to fight fans as well as fans of good filmmaking. Simply put, it’s the best MMA documentary since The Smashing Machine.


(Props: movieclipsTRAILERS)

By Elias Cepeda

If you ask a movie reviewer what sets great movies apart from good ones, many would tell you that great movies are the ones that manage to transcend their premises. The Rocky series wasn’t about boxing; it was a story of an underdog who succeeded through hard work and determination in the face of impossible odds. Fight Club wasn’t about dudes beating each other up in basements; it was a dirge for our lost masculinity and the rise of anonymous consumerism.

And the new MMA documentary Fightville isn’t about the fighting; it’s about the struggle.

Directed by Petra Epperlein and Michael Tucker — who have previously collaborated on four other full-length features, including the Iraq war documentary Gunner Palace — Fightville is a gritty and thought-provoking glimpse into the human condition that should appeal to fight fans as well as fans of good filmmaking. Simply put, it’s the best MMA documentary since The Smashing Machine.

Fightville has been drawing buzz since last year’s SXSW film festival, and is set to release on April 20th in select theaters in New York and Los Angeles, as well as on VOD and iTunes. The film centers on Tim Credeur’s Gladiators Academy and the nondescript dirt-floor rodeo arenas in Lafayette, Louisiana, but it could just have easily taken place in Anytown, USA, where similar dramas are being played out in countless MMA gyms and regional promotions.

Filmed three years ago, prior to Credeur’s star pupil Dustin Poirier’s Octagon debut and ascension up the UFC featherweight ranks, the story shows the contrast between Poirier’s traversal up a rocky and winding path to his goal of signing with the UFC, and his teammate Albert Stainback’s attempts to find the amount of dedication necessary to make it as a fighter. Giving Mickey Goldmill a run for his money, Credeur is a genuine mentor to the pair, offering equal parts encouragement, advice and tough love as necessary.

A pair of training scenes perfectly captures Credeur’s carrot-and-stick coaching method, as well as his two students’ difference in commitment-level. With Poirier, Credeur takes a gentle and encouraging approach to sparring, recognizing that Dustin has been preparing dutifully for an upcoming bout. Meanwhile, Stainback — who had been MIA for most of his training camp for his fight on the same card — is rewarded with a full-on ass-whooping by a few of Credeur’s star pupils, who are ordered to “green-light” Stainback for his lack of discipline.

Although we’ve seen Poirier go a perfect 4-0 in the UFC since the film was shot — with his first UFC headlining appearance opposite Chan Sung Jung scheduled for May 15th — I still felt let down when the movie was over, because I wanted to see it all play out on screen. In filmmaking circles, I believe this is what’s known as “setting up the sequel.”