I'm a big fan of professional road cycling (there's a whole world of fascinating racing beyond the Tour de France!) and what little I've seen of mountain bike racing has been a lot of fun to watch, too. That makes cyclo-cross seem very appealing: after all, it's basically a cross between the two sports, as the riders take road-style bikes over cross-country courses that include plenty of challenging terrain and even obstacles to carry the bike over. The documentary Pure Sweet Hell purports to capture the insanity and beauty of cyclo-cross.

Unfortunately, Pure Sweet Hell doesn't live up to its aspirations. The headline quote on the DVD cover is "It's the most beautiful form of bike racing, far and away," which, rather tellingly, refers to the sport of cyclo-cross rather than to the film itself. Pure Sweet Hell ends up being a very peculiar film, one that is likely to completely alienate almost all its potential viewers, and completely enthrall a tiny percentage of them.

The film starts off with a lengthy sequence showing cyclo-cross riders riding, in an style that features a deliberately amateurish look, with the footage looking like it was shot with a hand-held camera. The use of black-and-white alternating with color footage, and the heavy film grain, also call attention to the film's self-consciously arty style. This is not bad by itself, but the opening sequence goes on... and on... and on... and on. Apparently we're supposed to be mesmerized by the sheer beauty of watching random cyclo-cross action. Sure, they're cool-looking shots, but enough is enough, and we get much more than enough.

Eventually - just about when I had decided that this was a completely content-free program - we start getting some material that could rightfully be called "documentary." Various professional cyclo-cross riders give their thoughts on the sport, its beauty, and its challenges. We hear from Justin Robinson, Gina Hall, Barry Wicks, and Rick Hunter, riders whom cyclo-cross fans are presumably familiar with. As a newcomer to the sport, it's really tough to get interested in their reflections, though; without having any context, and with so little actual informative content, the riders' reflections on the sport seem disconnected and not particularly interesting.

Later in the film, we get some historical material, including vintage 1970s photos and film footage, with the interviewees' reflections on what it was like to ride then, and how cyclo-cross has changed over the years. This material helps make Pure Sweet Hell of some interest to cyclo-cross fans. Even so, Pure Sweet Hell feels more like the kind of DVD you'd pop in to watch while riding on the indoor trainer, not something you'd sit down to watch with attention as a feature film.

The DVD

Video

Pure Sweet Hell is presented in its original aspect ratio of 1.33:1. It generally looks grainy and rough, but a lot of that seems to be intentional: the film takes on a deliberately amateurish, hand-held look, and liberally uses black and white footage for effect. The older material is fairly beat-up, but it's not surprising that it should show some wear and tear.

Audio

The sound is fine, as far as it goes. There's not a lot of dialogue here, but what there is, is clear enough. One of the selling points of the film is its "experimental rock music" soundtrack, but I have to say that I didn't find it particularly engaging.

Extras

There are no special features.

Final thoughts

If you are a devoted cyclo-cross fan, you may find Pure Sweet Hell worth a rental, assuming you don't mind a weird artsy style. I found the documentary to be disappointing, though. It's badly paced and feels padded with endless shots of cyclo-cross riding without any commentary sandwiched in between the bits of interviews. If you don't already know about the sport of cyclo-cross, this isn't the documentary that will fill you in. Most viewers will do better to pass it by, but for the cyclo-cross community (for whom the film was obviously aimed) I would say that you should rent it.