Stone's Uncompromising First Film Revs the Engine

Alice Stone's first feature-length documentary "She Lives to Ride" is a compendium of portraits of women who ride motorcycles, interspersed with archival footage of women who rode hot wheels in America's past. Stone reiterates in interviews that her main goal for this film was to show images of empowered women. She is entirely successful, and in addition she manages to take a political stance without being heavy-handed. The director skillfully chips away at the monolithic image of the female biker that constructs women bikers as crass, ugly, leather-clad renegade dykes, by portraying five different women bikers from across the great spectrum of race, sexual orientation, and socio-economic status.

The most memorable profiles are those of Dot Robinson, an 82-year-old who refuses to ride anything but a girlie-pink Harley, and of Jaqui Sturgess, a Madison Avenue lesbian who rides not only to live but also in order to challenge societal constructs of femininity. The great thing about Dot (besides the lipstick holder attached to her bike's rearview mirror) is that she is completely unaware of her own place in the annals of feminist history, even though she rode a bike long before our mamas were born. "I was a woman in a man's world", she muses nonchalantly from her chaise lounge. She lives in a retirement community, entirely outside the scope of mainstream feminism, and if she were to be asked about her take on gender issues she would profess her strong support for the "women's liberation movement". Jaqui, acutely aware of the statement she makes when she cruises the Upper East Side on her trusty two-wheeler, describes the "sense of self" she gets from biking as the ultimate high. I wish Stone would have put these two articulate women in a room together; they'd get along famously.

So perhaps even more striking than each woman's differences are their similarities: every biker Stone interviewed for the film conveys a calm self-assuredness, a relaxed sense of autonomy, and a vehement desire to feel wind in her hair. These women have their multi-faceted lives in perspective. Stone pays them respect for challenging, every time they take to the road, a stupid stereotype that has thoroughly permeated American culture. The movie aims to inspire, and inspire she does. The spirit of independence infused into the ride is both arresting and encouraging. Stone's wide shots of entire communities of bikers cruising through electric storms, or her moving clips of lone women serenely speeding down the highway made me and the 53-year-old next to me agree that when we reached 60, that's where we wanted to be. Understated and fluid, Alice Stone's first feature-length film should remain just that--her very first. It's nice to know that when and if she ever hits Hollywood, Stone's movies probably won't make too many compromises.