Thank you, friend. This gets my highest recommendation. The sitdown with Ken and Frank was some of the best masculine drama I've ever seen in my life. Two alpha males, with one realizing that it doesn't have to be like that. "I'm not a fighter, I'm a human being" is a mantra I think we could all take something from.
As spectacular as Frank's career was, and I truly do believe that he is one of the best of all time, his failures in life cascaded into an albatross of guilt, and I think the fact that he acknowledges this now that his career, the championships, the crowds, is over--leaving him with the stark realities of quotidian civilian life--is unbelievably poignant. While the cynics amongst us may (and probably rightfully) claim that this was a vanity project designed to build the Frank Shamrock brand, I think Frank's willingness to extend the olive branch to his brother--his teacher, his mentor, the shadow Frank has seemingly spent his adult life trying to emerge from--and admit that he was wrong is an absolutely beautiful moment of humanity that we rarely see in a sport full of testosterone (natural and otherwise) and aggression.
What I found interesting was that when Ken suggested that they finally have the long-discussed Shamrock vs. Shamrock fight for the sake of emotional resolution, Frank responded by incredulously saying, "we have to beat each other up to get closure now?" It indicates to me that while Frank has moved on and is trying to find a new way that isn't rooted in violence, Ken has not. We all know this about Ken, but seeing the contrast depicted in such an immediate and visceral way makes me happy for Frank, while being sad for Ken, who doesn't seem to realize that there may be something beyond Ultimate Fighting. Having said that, Ken's apology to Frank rang more true than anything he's said since losing to Robert "Buzz" Berry.
In the end, I think "Bound By Blood" was the perfect title for this documentary. It was mentioned in this thread that the Shamrocks aren't blood brothers, but that observation may be too myopic. As a fighter, as a father, as a son, and as a man, Frank Shamrock was haunted by bonds and legacy, and all the mistakes that he openly admits to seem to have been in response to that suffocating anxiety that the Shamrock name brought to him. Whether it was breaking free from the Lion's Den to establish his own identity (and it seems telling that, from what I remember, he started going by Frank Juarez Shamrock then) or refusing to reconcile with Bob Shamrock as the patriarch of the clan lay on his death bed, being a Shamrock seems to have poisonous to Frank's ability to find peace in his identity. At the documentary's end, then, I think it's inspiring to see that it wasn't, in fact, too late for Frank to reconcile his own distinct identity with the Shamrock heritage that he had simultaneously embraced and rejected with every decision he made.
Themes of guilt, forgiveness, and redemption are rare in the Ultimate, and rightfully so. But I think that here the personalities are so strong and legendary that what began as a cathartic moment for the Shamrock brothers became my own catharsis. By starring in this documentary, by opening his life--flaws and all--to the world, I think Frank Shamrock has redefined the notion of manhood in a sport where masculinity had been characterized by heavy metal, Affliction t-shirts, and superman punches. And while those traits may, in truth, be a big part of what being a man entails, I think we see now that there's more than that. Manhood is also, as Frank shows, acceptance, forgiveness, and reconciliation.
10/10, and I hope you all watch this.
