The frenetic sport of roller derby invites players to shed their everyday personalities to embrace an alter ego, and in 2008, the film Roller Derby Dolls chronicled its revival in Brisbane. Here, over 15 years later, those who documented this thrilling return share their reflections on the experience.
Evil Doll. Dead Meat. Mimsey Mayhem. These aren't fictional comic book characters but alter egos embraced by women in the frenetic sport of roller derby – a lively dance of survival on the rink.
In the late noughties, Anita Knight, aka Evil Doll, wanted to revive the faded women's sport popular in the '60s and '70s. Phoebe Hart, then an emerging director, was there to capture its revival.
‘It was an interesting community in that these are women coming from all walks of life. They had different experiences of being in team sports – not all of them pleasant. So they sought out this alternate sporting opportunity.’
She adds that there were challenges in getting everyone to work together on something so ‘loose’. ‘Not all the rules were known yet – those sorts of things were still coming together.’
This tested the documentary-maker, who reflects that the women were still learning the sport and, by their own admission, initially played sub-standard bouts. ‘People were sort of staggering about the place. So it was difficult to get the high-action shots we wanted.’
Hart resolved this issue by zoning in on the interpersonal dramas, a choice criticised by some players, and creating a ‘fantasy bout’. ‘We got the roller rink, got all the women in their uniforms, and then had a golf cart we were zooming around in, filming the women and putting cameras in various places’.
There were no GoPro’s then, but they placed lipstick cameras on the players’ boots or hats. This helped portray the bump-and-crash nature of the sport. ‘If we were filming it today, we'd be able to see absolutely amazing athleticism – huge jumps across the apex of the rink and huge body slams.’
Since making the film, Hart has transitioned into academia, focusing on filmmaking, and found great success with another documentary, Orchids, My Intersex Adventure. This film screened at more than 100 film festivals and was broadcast on the ABC, as well as in the US, Europe and Asia.
Hart also tried her hand at roller derby, skating for a few years before an injury forced her to step away. Her alter ego? Gloria Hole. ‘It just got shortened to Gloria after a while just because a few people thought, actually, it's pretty spicy that one.’
If this sounds like the plot of an aspirational Hollywood film, it’s an understandable reaction: an unlikely gathering of women who, by day, are mothers, wives and professionals, and by night, become a formidable force on wheels, going full throttle on roller skates to literally smash into each other. A sampling of roller derby slang says it all: ‘fishnet burn’, ‘booty block’, ‘lead jammer’ and ‘can opener’. Roller derby is clearly not for the faint of heart.
But it was more than an opportunity to unleash an inner warrior. For the women playing, it was a place to unburden themselves. They left their day jobs and their everyday responsibilities at the roller-skating rink door, creating a unique moment in time: a community forged out of a desire to awaken and connect with others, to draw out dormant parts of themselves and bring them to life with speed, athleticism and performance.
One of the documentary’s strongest elements is the rainbow of characters it introduces, especially the fiery, determined Knight. She has since disappeared from the roller derby scene, her current location unknown, much to the disappointment of former best friend Mimsey Gleeson (aka Mimsey Mayhem). ‘[Anita] was responsible for the resurgence of roller derby in Australia.’
Knight’s passion was infectious. ‘We were so inspired and motivated, and there was nothing here; there was no infrastructure.’ The local rink manager, Gleeson adds, had to train them because they didn’t even know how to skate properly. Fast forward a few months, and the rink was packed.
Gleeson, a tattoo artist, says roller derby allowed her to be herself, and she discovered a passion through an alternative sport she could fit into. ‘That's all changed now; it looks very professional from what I can tell. But back then, we considered it a more gritty alternative-style sport.’
Despite its non-mainstream appeal, Gleeson says roller derby was surprisingly rules-based. 'But we didn't know that. We were just coming into it seeing all these badass American girls with tattoos, wearing fishnets and cool make-up and thinking, 'Oh, this is more our jam than netball".'
As for her derby name, Gleeson says she has always felt embarrassed by Mimsey Mayhem, though she credits Knight with giving her the moniker. As a mother to two toddlers, she certainly embraced the alter ego at the time. ‘A couple of years at home and you can start feeling all those things that you always hear about mums feeling – like they’re not valid, or they're hanging around babies, or they've lost their identity. So roller derby really was a fast-track to getting the old me back. I definitely have the badass … mischievous side, always. That comes naturally.’
For Carla Baxter, aka Dead Meat, the alter ego was born out of fear. The name was not a warning but a reflection of how terrified she was of the game and other players. ‘I just thought, “Oh, I’m gonna get smashed. I’m going to be dead meat”.’
Dead Meat, she says, gets away with things Carla never would. ‘Things that Carla would never do are perhaps being jovial and kind to someone who dislikes me. They ignore when someone's disrespectful and still give them a lot of love. It's funny, the things I get away with being Dead Meat are not naughty or wrong. Actually it's a strength of character I don’t afford myself.’
Roller derby, she says, gave the women permission to be ‘better, more flamboyant, more beautiful versions’ of themselves. ‘It’s much easier to take up space if I'm being Dead Meat. I think that’s a female thing. A lot of women struggle with this.’
Excerpt from Roller Derby Dolls (Phoebe Hart, 2008).
If she was afraid then, Baxter, at 42, seems fearless now. She remains a diehard roller derby doll and believes she’s one of the oldest competitive players. During our interview, the scratch of Baxter's skates provided the soundtrack as she covered an impressive four kilometres in preparation for the World Skate Games in Italy this September.
It's no longer paid-for exhibition and performance, Baxter says; sponsorships and media interest are thin on the ground. Instead, it’s becoming a more conventional, professional sport. For Baxter, however, roller derby remains an amateur passion. ‘I don’t understand why they're trying to be professional without sponsorship or an audience.’
For all the limitations Hart faced documenting a resurgence in its early stages, Baxter says broadcasting Roller Derby Dolls on the ABC helped spread the sport in Australia. ‘They made something out of something before it had happened,’ she says. ‘The picture that they painted made what came after possible.’
Baxter calls it the ‘art of allusion’: ‘By alluding to the roller derby from the past, by alluding to other things that had worth, it came to life. Here we are 17 years later, and roller derby’s an international sport that's competed at the highest level’.
From the fastest-growing sport to the fastest-spreading sport, it has now plateaued. ‘But do you know it was the technology of the alter ego, of the nickname, of the art of allusion, and people trying to make the sport bigger – it worked, and it grew,’ says Baxter, who notes there is a desire to recruit a more culturally diverse roster.
Gleeson had her roller-skating pursuits upended by injury. She no longer skates, even recreationally. ‘It's pretty depressing,’ she says. ‘I've always said that maybe when I turn 50, which is only in three years, I'll do it again. But the stakes of the injuries get higher the older you get.’ None of this dilutes her admiration for Baxter. ‘Carla is the queen of Australian roller derby. Any day of the week, you will see her bombing streets in Ipswich just as a mode of transport. She is amazing.’
Gleeson hesitates to critique modern-day roller derby but laments the loss of its alternative ‘punk vibe’. She wonders about the correlation between today’s more serious, professional game and its diminishing popularity. ‘From what I can tell, it's a completely different animal.’
But roller derby still seems to be an open sport for women who need an outlet. ‘This is the thing about roller derby: you can go back when you're ready,’ says Hart. ‘There are people [who] are skating well into their 50s [who] find a space in the sport.’
Not surprisingly, Hart says she may return yet.
Roller Derby Dolls is now available to stream on NFSA Player.
Main image: Anita Knight (aka Evil Doll, 3rd from left) with Carla Baxter (aka Dead Meat, centre) and the Roller Derby Dolls
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