Good intentions alone do not make something worthwhile. It can go a long way, of course, but even the noblest efforts mean little if they don't grab your attention.

And so it is with Black Wheels, a documentary chronicling the history of African-Americans in NASCAR and other motor sports. Co-producer Byron Hunter has said he and his colleagues made the 48-minute film to speak to NASCAR fans and not necessarily black audiences, to educate them on the significant role that African-Americans have played in the sport.

Nevertheless, speaking as a reviewer who is neither black nor a NASCAR fan, I have always held that a well-made documentary about an interesting subject can and should have more than a specialized appeal. Black Wheels has a fascinating and unique story to tell about a sport that (fairly or not) is often stereotyped as the purview of Southern white rednecks. Alas, the work falls short of the ambitious finish line set by its filmmakers.

Narrated by actor Tim Reid (from the old TV series WKRP in Cincinnati and Frank's Place), whose New Millennium Studios produced the documentary, Black Wheels begins promisingly enough. We open with a brief section about Charlie Wiggins, a little-known African-American race care driver who dominated the all-black Gold and Glory Sweepstakes circuit for much of the 1920s and '30s. Despite his gifts on the raceway, segregation precluded his ability to compete against white drivers. In 1934, he headed the Indy 500 pit crew for Bill Cummings, a white race car driver who went on to win the prestigious contest that year. Wiggins, so instrumental in Cummings' triumph, had to pose as a janitor in order to be allowed on the premises.

The section on Wiggins is all too brief. And the majority of Black Wheels offers only perfunctory profiles of such notable race car drivers as Wendell Scott, Willy T. Ribbs and NASCAR pro Bill Lester. Anecdotes are few and far between. While there are some good interviews included – Joie Ray recalls the commonplace safety hazards of racing during the 1940s (cloth helmets – yikes) -- the film stretches itself too thin by providing thumbnail information on modern-day initiatives aimed at strengthening diversity in racing.

Finally, the documentary is simply bland. With its just-the-facts-ma'am approach, Black Wheels barely skims the surface of a topic that deserved better.

And yet, for all that, Black Wheels deserves credit for telling the story at all.

Video:

The full-screen picture is perfunctory, but flat and dull. It's the look of a local TV news segment.

For the most part, the 2.0 Dolby is serviceable, but in several spots there is audible crackling and popping, as it the sound had been recorded on vinyl.

The most interesting extra, the three-minute Bill Lester's Race Day, features the driver providing a behind-the-scenes tour of a race in the NASCAR Craftsman Truck Series.

The Black Wheels Premiere includes clips of a panel discussion that occurred at the National Press Club in Washington, DC, on June 1, 2005.

A nine-minute featurette on Urban Youth Racing School details a Philadelphia-based program that gives inner-city youth an opportunity to learn about the competitive world of auto racing. It's an innovative and worthy entity, but this is more of a promotional video than anything else.

The Drive for Diversity Combine is a five-minute video on a feeder program designed to increase diversity in NASCAR. Again, it's a laudable program that is more promotional than insightful.

The DVD includes commercials for Toyota and Waste Management, sponsors of Black Wheels.

Rounding out the disc are trailers for American Legacy (a documentary about blacks in the military), Cowboys of Color (a documentary about blacks in rodeo), The Spook Who Sat by the Door (a 1973 blaxploitation flick) and For Real.

I can't help thinking that Black Wheels is a missed opportunity. Its superficial insights won't particularly interest non-NASCAR fans, while the initiated fans will probably be disappointed by the minimal amount of racing footage.