FILM REVIEW: TOP SPIN

Ariel Hsing in Top Spin.

The ways the balls bounce

By John Esther

For millions of fortunate Americans, playing table tennis, AKA ping pong, has been an enduring pastime over the years. Every summer some kid on the block with a table tennis table would open up his or her garage, basement or backyard where kids would meet for some fun competition. Or friends and family would congregate at the table at some recreation center or clubhouse during a winter vacation. Maybe, even both.

For those who loved the game, proficiency at the game could get pretty impressive over the years. A little dedication and practice may go a long way.

However, the difference between recreational play and those striving for Olympic play is a lot longer and harder than the length of a ping pong table or the speed of a smash hit.

Proving the sport can take on a greater level of skill and commitment than the typical America will see in her or his lifetime, Mary T. Son and Sara Newens' documentary, Top Spin, sheds lights on the great game of table tennis through its three highly likable and highly skilled subjects. These intelligent, well adjusted American kids are not just good, they are seeking a seat at the table at the 2012 London Olympics.  

Hailing from the San Jose, California area, Ariel Hsing had already won the national U.S. Women's Table Tennis Championship twice by the age of 16.

Hsing's personal friend yet greatest singles foe on the court (at least in the U.S.) is Lily Zhang from Palo Alto, California. At the age of 12, Zhang became the youngest player to join the U.S. Women's Team.

On the other side of the country, in another middle-upper class American community, is 17-year-old Michael Landers. The resident of Long Island won the U.S. Men's Table Tennis Championship at the age of 15.

Three of the best players in the U.S., these high school students must negotiate their studies, apply and prepare for college, and try to fit in what limited adolescent fun they can afford to experience, around a training session that lasts 4-6 hours a day, six days a week. Sometimes, even more. To make it to the Olympics these kids must train hard. Sacrifices will be made.

At least the kids do not have to go at it alone -- for the most part. Their parents are there to lend their support wherever possible. Hsing's father is her coach while the other two have non-family members train. Hsing and Zhang's parents never seem to miss a match, either, while Landers' parents are  very supportive, yet noticeably absent from the matches (there is a cute metanarrative where Hsing's mother, Xinhua Jiang, cheers on the young man who is playing the tournament of his life without his parents present).

Peppering the trials, tribulations and training of the three athletes is some spectacular table tennis action. Competent table tennis players will soon realize there is a massive difference between local tournament play and national tournament play. At the national level players create spins, slams and chops, forehand and backhand, bounce back and forth, sometimes an excess of 80 mph, across a nine-foot table, with the players standing back up to 15 feet behind the table. This is not beer pong.

Yet, according to Barney Reed, professional table tennis is not even as lucrative as "professional" beer pong. One of the best American table tennis players ever (and its most notorious), Reed meets up with the Top Spin crew during the Olympic tryouts, offering his insights into what it means to play as a professional ping pong player in the U.S.

According to Reed, nobody makes a living at it (although what else he does personally to make a living remains undisclosed), but nobody at his level is in it for the money. A college education is replaced by world travel. He does not regret his decision. (Reed did not make the 2012 Olympics in London.)

Blending the personal with the ping pong, co-director/editor Newens and co-director/producer Son manage to make a film about high school athletes which is neither mawkish or melancholic. Three hard working kids -- on and off the court -- are living out their dreams to the best of his or her ability, opportunity and happenstance. Even if one or more of them does not make the Olympics, we get the feeling they will keep the spins and whims of the future under control.  

Let the minuscule increase in table tennis interest in the U.S. begin.