Initially, it seems that I Am Evel Knievel competently weaves archival footage with a range of talking heads. However, the documentary goes to great lengths to embellish a very unlikeable man and omits some of his life’s failings, making it an inferior production to the BBC’s Richard Hammond Meets Evel Knievel, which also has the advantage of featuring the man himself shortly before he died on November 30th 2007.
During the 1970s, Evel Knievel was one of the most famous names in America and the world. The huge danger and bravery of his stunts were almost universal in their appeal, but what truly propelled him to super-stardom were his star-spangled costumes, patriotic bravado and perhaps most of all his distinctively mean-sounding nom de guerre. However, underneath the celebrity was, quite frankly, a self-absorbed thug with a propensity for alcohol abuse, infidelity, violence and general criminality.
Personal experience
Whatever you think of him, though, you cannot deny that Evel Knievel was a very brave man. I once rented a moped in Nha Trang, Vietnam. I spent about ten thrilling minutes darting around side streets until I came out onto a large coastal road, which is when the brakes abruptly jammed the wheels and I fell off, cutting up my toe, leg, arm and fingertips as I hit the tarmac in just a t-shirt and shorts. The protracted pain and discomfort of this quite pathetic accident made me vow to never ride a motorbike again (I wasn’t fond of them anyway), so Knievel’s iron will in the face of much greater danger is remarkable, particularly his brutal crash at Wembley Stadium. He suffered 37 broken bones and over 400 fractures during his career.
Embellishment of a bad, boring man
Knievel’s pain management was impressive and he made sure that his paying audience were always witness to uncompromised danger, but I Am Evel Knievel’s congratulatory tone and fawning interviewees purport him to be some kind of inspirational figure. Indeed, Knievel was a self-made man whose drive (no pun intended) and bravery earned him millions, but he had very few inspirational qualities outside of his energy and perseverance. He was a well-known punk in his hometown of Butte, Montana, and was guilty of shoplifting, reckless driving, bank robbery and – later in life – breaking the arms of Sheldon Saltman with a baseball bat.
Matthew McConaughey recalls how Knievel boasted that ‘If you want to sweat in your boots, try robbing a god damn federal bank.’ The rather peculiar McConaughey – whose mantra and clothing line is Just keep livin’ – says without even a modicum of condemnation: ‘He had to get sweat in his boots, he had to get off and do something to make himself alive. Civilization is a mundane bitch for a lot of people.’ Would McConaughey be so understanding of the ordinary thrill-seeking bank robber, I wonder?
The incessant fawning runs throughout the documentary. Guy Fieri – that irritating eyesore who presents the otherwise delicious Diners, Drive-ins and Dives – turns up with his fluorescent spiky hair and yet another garishly awful shirt, offering forgettable commentary on this so-called great man. Even Kid Rock appears, excitedly proclaiming that Knievel was the ‘biggest badass in history’, whatever that means.
The most laughable praise of all came from Lathan McKay, who named Knievel ‘the poster-child for the American Dream.’ Yeah, right! Knievel was instead the poster boy for nouveau-riche consumerism, as evidenced with his gold-plated Harley and this quote -‘I’m gonna have the best clothes, best boots, best diamonds, cars, trucks, motorcycles, booze and women on the face of the earth.’ Knievel’s inevitable slump into bankruptcy is explored in minimal detail, but it is mentioned that he ‘earned 60 million but spent 80.’
Even when the documentary concerns Knievel’s brutal baseball bat assault on Sheldon Saltman, there are those who support him. Saltman had published a book that truthfully detailed Knievel’s drinking, womanizing and other obnoxious behaviour. In his defense of the vile crime, professional skateboarder Mike Vallely exhibited both his dubious morality and ignorance of the law – ‘If you publicly slander somebody, that’s the lowest thing you can do… did he deserve it? Hell yes he did.’ Saltman’s book was not slander as the book was a result of transcribed audio recordings; there were no malicious falsehoods therefore it was not defamatory. Knievel had even listened to the recordings and asked for some parts to be removed before publication. When the book was published, Knievel realised that he was no longer in control of the material, and he hated not being the boss, so he dealt with it the only way he knew how.
Ultimately, Evel Knievel was aggressive, self-centered, aloof and uncharismatic. Whenever he spoke to the camera, whether it was a random journalist or Johnny Carson, the charmless Knievel would maintain a straight face as he flatly delivered dull musings on his life and work. Why, then, do so many people love Knievel? Well, it’s the same reason that the religious can’t shake their faith – legions of Knievel’s fans grew up idolizing him.
Richard Hammond Meets Evel Knievel
Former Top Gear presenter Richard Hammond was one of those fans, and when he met him for the insightful BBC documentary Richard Hammond Meets Evel Knievel, his disappointment was clearly evident.
Hammond was immediately shocked by Knievel’s poor health, but he soon realised that this legendary man he’d traveled 3,500 miles to see was very unfriendly and unlikeable. Time and again Knievel abruptly stopped the interviews when he didn’t like Hammond’s line of questioning, despite Hammond clearly being in awe of him. Throughout the programme Knievel radiated contempt and repeatedly made curt comments, and although Hammond began to speak critically of him to the camera, he unfortunately concluded that he still considered Knievel his ‘hero’, allowing his boyish reverence to interfere.
To conclude, I Am Evel Knievel is well edited and gives a mostly satisfactory overview of his life. However, I would recommend Richard Hammond Meets Evel Knievel instead, as it gives a far more candid insight into Knievel’s rather hateful personality and wastes no time consulting the likes of Guy Fieri and Kid Rock.
Were you a childhood fan of Evel Knievel? Do you agree that he is no ‘great man’? Please comment below.
(top image source: nypost.com)
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