Helen Stickler directs a Day-Glo flashback to the 80s when skateboarding angled its way into the mainstream and made an unlikely star out of punk misfit Mark 'Gator' Rogowski. With a mix of interviews and archive footage, she follows him from scaling the heights of cult celebrity to slopping out at the state penitentiary on a first-degree murder rap. Certainly an intriguing tale but - despite the name - Stickler lacks the attention to detail crucial to understanding her subject.

Skateboarding legends like Stacy Peralta (who also directed Dogtown And Z-Boys) and Tony Hawk give entertaining accounts of Gator's impact on the scene as the face of fledgling company Vision Skateboards. While under contract there, Gator was thrust into a four-year whirlwind of publicity and wild parties, but by the late 80s a street style evolved that made his 'vertical ramp' aerobatics look dated. Gator's career spiralled into decline - marking the point at which this documentary also starts to unravel.

We're told he succumbed to a deep depression until finally, on March 20th 1991, Gator snapped. Seeking revenge on the girlfriend who'd recently ditched him, he raped and killed her best friend before dumping her body in the California desert.

"SKATES RIGHT OVER THE CRUX OF THE MATTER"

Exactly what compelled Gator to commit such a monstrous act is put down to bad genes. According to Stickler, he suffered from bipolar disorder and his father had a bad temper - factors we're simply asked to accept without a full picture of Gator's background.

Explanation from the man himself is restricted to a few minutes of disjointed voiceover (phoned in from prison) and a home video snippet where he reveals: "I love getting arrested." Supposedly a profound insight into his psyche, it's actually just another casual brushstroke in Stickler's one-dimensional portrait of Gator as an egomaniac.

A thorough account of the crime itself is also lacking, with almost no attempt to dissect precisely what happened in the immediate build-up and aftermath. Once again, and consistently throughout the film, Stickler skates right over the crux of the matter.