Tanner is still a few years away from being skiing’s loveable old-man-yelling-at-clouds Gary Busey-esque mascot (but it will happen). And as long as media outlets like HBO are holding him up as the embodiment of our sport every time he opens his mouth will continue to be a cringeworthy event. But how could we stay mad at a face like that?

Even if he causes everyone in the world without an NS account to collectively roll their eyes in unison. And even though he seems oblivious to the notion that they do, in fact, stop boxing matches before people die. And that neither NASCAR nor Indycar is an unregulated steel cage match of automobile induced death…the dude does want to land on Mars. And don’t we all share that dream in common? Somewhere deep down in the core of our collective human psyche?

To Mars, Tanner. To Mars!

It’s bit strange that when Eric Iberg first announced Like a Lion, many of us instantly assumed that it’d be an account of Tanner’s downfalls. He’s a skier with unmatched success in competitions and videos, but his on-camera gaffes and often over-the-top rasta mimicry seem to have left us all thirsty for blood (metaphorically, of course). Nonetheless, the hope was that Iberg would be aiming to ask some tough questions and offer some explanation of the behind-the-scenes Tanner Hall that his friends know and seem to love. The movie had no hope of being an objective account, and to Iberg’s credit, he seems to have realized as much.

The account we do get in Like a Lion is a bit bipolar. The first half offers a visual summary of the contests and events of Tanner’s boyhood, but the question it ultimately takes on seems to be, “What went wrong with Tanner?” Iberg does an admirable job of leaving the camera on Darla Hall (Tanner’s mother) long enough to see the sideways glances and facial twitches that suggest hurt, disappointment, and guilt that her words aren’t revealing. This isn’t to say that Iberg takes a hard line on Tanner, as he twice deflects the tough questions from his friend by answering them himself. We only get the responses, but the implied questions are as follows: “Has Tanner been a bad role model to his young fans?” Iberg quickly dismisses that one, followed by a question that seems to imply its own answer, “Is Tanner selfish?” But once again Iberg handily bats it away with little consideration.

By the forty minute mark I started to feel like something was missing. The early freeskiing footage is independently interesting, and Darla Hall is conflicted enough to make for fascinating viewing, but the supposed star of the show hadn’t really said anything insightful or consequential. The mystery is solved with a bit of perhaps unintentional comic relief as Tanner eloquently offers, “I think I got ADD like crazy, but I think there’s no such thing as ADD, I just got uhhh….I just got ADD.” And there’s your grand answer, Tanner is unquestionably a great athlete, and apparently a very loyal friend, but the dude’s a bit of a simpleton. Mik D probably says it best, “What Tanner needs in life is someone to be a brain for him. We’re so alike, if we think too much it goes up to the brain and fucks with the rest of the body.” Don’t get me wrong, there is some really insightful commentary from Evan Raps, Glen Plake, and some other peers, but if the movie is ultimately trying to tell the truth about Tanner, it’s Mik D that tells it straight.

Despite some well-placed humor, any ski documentary that goes over an hour is bound to drag. But luckily, the lull that afflicts this film just before the hour mark is really just a hiccup before a new, and more interesting, direction. Tanner’s first injury-inducing crash at Chad’s Gap is probably the transition point, but it really picks up steam with CR’s crash and coma. This section is still (perhaps unfortunately) ostensibly about Tanner Hall, but the truly interesting theme is the mortality of our sport’s aging superheroes. This is a generation of young men who reinvented what was possible with every single video release. Today’s skiers are certainly impressive, but Tanner and his peers were so early in the game that almost anything they did had never been done before. Age, injuries, drugs, and real deal tragedies cast a human light on guys who once seemed immortal to an entire generation of young skiers. Tanner Hall is not eloquent and he offers no earth-shattering insights, but his position at the top of the game, and subsequent fall, make him a useful lens through which Iberg tells a really good story.

I’m still not sure that we’ve found the model for a single-skier focused documentary that doesn’t come off like a vanity project, but we’ve definitely found the guy who can tell a decent ski story in documentary format. If the film leaves me with one hope, it’s that Iberg will take what he’s learned from making this film and use it to tell the story of our fledgling sport. Like a Lion is a pretty strong overall effort, but its real flashes of brilliance are found when Iberg zooms out and tells skiing’s bigger stories.

1. Big clothing

2. Rap music

3. Simon Dumont

But that being said, I have a nifty login here at BroBomb and damn it, I’m using it. Enjoy the 2010 Team America JOSS Edit. God knows Jon won’t.

-Rogge

About three weeks ago I was in Burlington, VT with Mike Rogge. I was going on the Ski Show that night, and the timing couldn’t have been better. I was sitting on the couch, checking out the latest edits, and I came upon Tanner’s now-deleted rant at the Linecatcher event. I heard Rogge coming down the stairs, so for dramatic effect I held up my laptop and said, “check this shit out” as I pushed play.

Those of you tuned into the Ski Show that night already know that Rogge drinks a special brand of Kool-Aid that renders him blind to all of Tanner’s miscues. You also know that I’ve been known to sip the Haterade a bit myself. Mike and I went skiing at Smuggler’s Notch the next day, and spent a great portion of those long lift rides discussing/debating the issue.

Tanner makes for good conversation—his mannerisms, outbursts, accent, and ever changing self-identity are like a case study in being famous too young. At some point in the conversation I used Mike Tyson as a comparison. Little did I know, the comparison would only get more compelling.

The trailer for Eric Iberg’s new Tanner-based documentary, “Like A Lion,” dropped yesterday. This is the point where you expect me to shit on the cheesy monologue about skiing as a “means of survival,” but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you figured that part out on your own. I actually think this project has a ton of potential, if it takes some cues from Iron Mike’s recent documentary- “Tyson.”

Tanner isn’t as famous as Mike Tyson, and he hasn’t come close to the career implosion that befell him either. That’s just the point though; that documentary was honest about Mike’s mistakes, and thus it restored the humanity of a man commonly portrayed as a monster. If “Like a Lion” can be unpretentious and honest about Tanner’s amazing achievements and at-times bizarre behavior, then all the petty hate will be put to rest. It’s a lot less fun to point out that somebody’s crazy if that person just said on film, “You know what? Sometimes I’m a bit crazy.”

Is that the type of movie we’re likely to see? Hopefully, but probably not. It’s unlikely for one reason: Eric Iberg is Tanner’s close friend. It’s really hard not to protect your friend, and this movie will suck if it’s just a bro-fest of Tanner accolades. I’m hoping we see a human, not a bizarre Rasta-robot, but the tag line “the true story of legendary skier Tanner Hall” might have already tipped their hand.

There isn’t much to say about Everyday is a Saturday. If you like Poorboyz releases and find that they fulfill what you want in a ski film, then this one will likely fall into the same category. If you tend to find them visually and conceptually overwrought, there’s no growth demonstrated that would change your mind. It’s the same formula, and damn near the same movie they’ve made for years.

Tanner gets the call for narrating duties, and it’s largely what we’ve come to expect from him. There’s the suburban-Rasta patois & clothing with some discussion of “passion” thrown in to assure us that nothing’s changed. Frank Raymond gets about 15 seconds for the absolute best rail footage in the video, and then quickly moves aside for the standard cast of characters. Theory-3 import, Charley Ager, is the only person with lifestyle footage that comes across as remotely affable or relatable. It’s immediately apparent that he’s having fun in the mountains, without any footage of him sitting on a couch and telling us so. Who’d have known you could capture that in a film without a contrived monologue? Finally, Dane Tudor absolutely slays. It’s the kind of skiing that snaps you out of the trance you’ve fallen into and makes you say, “Damn, this dude is too good.” It’s against the rules to end a paragraph with a quotation, so I’ll say that this movie is exactly what you expect it to be. Whatever that is.