POP STAR ON ICE
Edited, written, produced & directed by David Barba & James Pellerito
Released by Retribution Media
USA. 85 min. Not rated   

Flipping the formula of a sports documentary, Pop Star on Ice ends on a cliff-hanger. To find out what has happened to the sliding career of ice skating star Johnny Weir, you’ll have to tune in to this year’s Winter Olympics. Filmmakers David Barba and James Pellerito have made the best promo for the games (NBC should be thankful) as well as a dishy prelude for their new Sundance Channel series, Be Good Johnny Weir.

They don’t need to depend on the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat formula when they have a charismatic and cheeky star yielding bitchy bon mots. The opposite of camera shy, Weir’s in cahoots with the filmmakers—he narrates with a sharp tongue. There are not many of his contemporaries who would conduct a mock interview in a bath tub with a male friend while sporting a blond wig and a thick Russian accent.

Growing up in rural Lancaster County, PA, Weir idolized skater Oksana Baiul, and first learned how to skate on rollers coursing through his family’s frozen corn field. He only took to the ice at the old age of 12. After his three-time winning streak as the U.S. National champion, which began in 2004, his career skids to an impasse. Over and over again, his longtime coach, Priscilla Hill, says he’s physically fit but not strong enough mentally to compete. She has been by his side since he began skating, but she seems more like a best sister than an authority figure. He bristles at her pep talks, though he later admits (but not to her) that she’s right. More times than not, she holds her tongue, not speaking to him for days, knowing he’ll do what he wants anyway. On his friendship with best friend Paris Childers, Weir compares it to a marriage without the sex. If that’s true, then his partnership with Hill is a marriage heading to a quickie divorce.

The film trails him from 2006 and ends in 2008. Now, Weir has a competitor in another glam and outspoken scene-stealer, Adam Lambert, also partial to making bold gestures and wearing out-there costumes—at his first U.S. championship victory, Weir wore a sequined outfit to portray a submissive swan. But unlike the former American Idol contestant, Weir’s circumspect about his private life, at least for now. Gay or straight, does it matter? (Really, do you have to ask?)

His mother, Patti, makes a few appearances here and there, leaving the coaching to Hill, and makes mostly a meek impression, but according to a recent article in the New York Times, she was responsible for pushing her son back into Olympic competition. Now 25, this is probably his last chance. Kent Turner
January 20, 2010