As someone who has long participated in a number of endurance events from my wheelchair, you can bet your bippy that I was excited to watch Steve Scearcy's immersive documentary Without Warning. Released by X4 Pictures, Without Warning follows the story of Bridgett Watkins. On the surface, Watkins has a seemingly normal life - ER nurse, wife, and mother. 

For some women, that may very well be enough. For Watkins, a native Alaskan, these roles are certainly important but there's a deeper drive and a lifelong dream to run the iconic Iditarod. I must confess that even as a definite risk-taker myself, there are certain things I've never had enough a more interest in doing - climbing a mountain, for example, and running the Iditarod for sure. 

In other words, Watkins is a badass to me. 

That said, what Scearcy does so wisely in Without Warning is humanize Watkins and even to a large degree humanize the Iditarod experience. 

We have a fairly straightforward introduction to Watkins, however, it's not long into the film that we're introduced a key element in the narrative that drives Without Warning. It's a scene I'm not inclined to describe here, at least not in any detail. However, about three weeks out from her plans to finally run the Iditarod she and her dogs have a traumatic event out on the trail. Scearcy vividly brings this scenario to life in a way that feels honest and captures the utter vulnerability of it all. It's a riveting scene that adds a tremendous depth of emotional resonance to Without Warning. 

Scearcy, in essence, builds this documentary on our reaching a better understanding of Watkins and her relationship with her dogs. She's the musher, sure, and for many she's the focal point. Scearcy, however, makes sure we understand that there's a relational aspect to Watkins and her dogs and, in reality, to anyone who chooses to participate in Iditarod or a similar race. Running Iditarod doesn't work without the musher and the dogs in a cohesive relationship. 

There are other scenes in Without Warning that further amplify the tension, blizzard conditions arriving and creating what would be for most an insurmountable challenge. I myself have wheeled through snow. I can't imagine anything like what unfolds here. It gives us a glimpse into Watkins not in a way that idolizes her but tremendously humanizes her. 

While not a perfect doc, Without Warning is refreshingly devoid of hyped up heroism and histrionics. I prefer documentaries where the heroic figure, the protagonist, is a human being with quirks and foibles, anxieties and vulnerabilities. That's Watkins. It's also admirable that she allowed herself to be filmed as a human being. It left me with a little more ache and a little more awe especially with little pieces within the film that could easily feel manufactured. 

They never do. 

Without Warning is an engaging and inspirational doc about a woman we grow to understand, we grow to root for, we grow to feel for, and we still grow to think of as an absolute badass (NOTE: As a paraplegic/double amputee, I tend to see nurses as pretty badass anyway). While Without Warning may not have all the inspirational hype we're used to in this type of film, what we get instead is authentic storytelling and a compelling figure we can't help but believe in. 

Written by Richard Propes
The Independent Critic