In this watchable and wide-ranging documentary Bell explores the controversial subject of anabolic steroids and their use to enhance physical development and athletic performance. Starting right at home with himself and his two brothers, Mark and Mike, still admitted steroid users (Chris quit them), he moves fearlessly and tirelessly (but always with good humor) from the most intimate to the most general aspects of this subject--from the inadequacies of the 50's 97 Pound Weakling to America's unhealthy and ever-increasing twenty-first century obsession with physical beauty and macho muscle--and the country's unwillingness to accept anyone who's not a "winner," underlined in General Patton's speech in the film starring George C. Scott from which a clip is shown. Chris Bell especially deserves credit not only for doing the footwork and approaching the subject from every angle, but for tackling emotional issues head-on without ever being swept away by them. The examples and images pop in seamlessly whenever they're needed or apt. It's impossible to emerge from a viewing of this film without being stimulated and enlightened.
To begin with, Bell shows how tainted--given congressional investigations and rumors of dire physical and psychological effects of the hormones--are some of America's sports and media stars. Jose Canseco, Barry Bonds, Olympic medalist Marion Jones, Arnold Schwarzenegger, "Hulk" Hogan, and other celebs have been exposed as steroid users whose triumphs were very definitely due in significant part to the greater, faster-growing muscle bulk and strength the substances in question make possible. Should people like the Bell brothers feel guilty, when the practice of steroid use is so widespread?
All three Bell brothers seem to have grown up shorter and smaller than they wanted to be and striven to become strong, to expand "horizontally" to compensate for not being able to expand vertically. Mike (Mad Dog) Bell, the oldest brother, attempted pro football, and later became a pro wrestler on TV but only as the scripted fall guy, never a winner, and now he is too old, but he won't give up and keeps training. Mark, the youngest, who got nicknamed Smelly because he was always sweaty from constant involvement in sports, became a power lifter, and promises his wife he will quit steroids once he lifts 700 pounds. And then he reneges on that promise. Chris's concern is greatest for Mike, for whom steroids are one of several addiction problems Chris fears may lead to loss of job and wife. Chris's mother and father speak quite frankly about their sons' use, which they are only partly aware of. His mother is judgmental and tearful, his father more philosophical, but both cheer madly when Smelly lifts those 700 pounds in competition.
Bell interviews experts and advocates on both sides, and also Donald Hooton, whose 17-year-old steroids-using athlete son's suicide has caused him to start an organization to foment opinion against the substances. It is quite possible the boy's death, no doubt due to multiple causes, was propelled more by anti-depressants. Bell doesn't deeply investigate charges of steroids causing rages or other mental unbalance but finds no evidence of that, or of cancer. Contrarily, he interviews a long-time AIDS patient whose life was saved by steroids when he was wasting away and who continues to use them. Bell interviews Ben Johnson and Carl Lewis, of the 1988 Summer Olympics. Lewis denies what there's evidence of, that he was in violation for substances himself prior to the games; Johnson says he was scapegoated and it could only happen because he was Canadian, not American. The upshot of all these investigations and more by Bell is a sense that anabolic steroids aren't a black and white issue.
More importantly, Bell shows America to be a hypocritical country where winning (à la Patton) is the only thing, but the cheating and stepping on toes on the way up that you have to do--which Schwarzenegger did, for instance--is a big no-no. We want to have it both ways. And we bend the rules in some cases, not in others. Tobacco and alcohol are way more dangerous than steroids, but are okay. For sex it's okay to use Viagra. For stage fright it's okay for classical musicians to pop beta blockers. And the under-regulated world of health supplements is full of fakery and profiteering. GI Joe dolls have gotten bulkier and more dramatically tapered with every decade, puffing up to redeemable the comic book superheroes of the 40's and 50's that (though Bell doesn't dwell on this) dominate blockbusters--this summer there's another Incredible Hulk, who might be called the steroid user "on steroids." Bell points out the pervasive use of that expression, "on steroids," for anything big and impressive and enhanced. Ultimately America is a country hooked on looks and performance.
Bell keeps himself present throughout, but without Michael Mooreish obtrusiveness: his own bulky biceps get him a photo op with the Gubernator even if not an interview; his bulk gives him conviction in many encounters with musclebound guys and girls. Bell's fraternal involvement with the issue, however, is inevitably a mixed blessing. It is fine that he does not demonize--but is he too soft? He refers to side effects of steroid use such as body hair and deepening voice in women, balding and testicle shrinking and reduced sperm count in men, which are said to be reversible; but scientific studies seem lacking--a situation attributed by the film to U.S. laws' making steroids illegal. Is this true? And are we, as it appears, stuck with this stuff, unable to turn back? Not every question is answered, but for wideness of context Bell's documentary is hard to fault and indeed a model of its kind.
