Elle a fait de la breakdance une blague aux Jeux olympiques, et maintenant elle est de retour dans un nouveau documentaire exaspérant sur Netflix.

Raygun, the Australian breakdancer whose performance at the 2024 Summer Olympics in Paris sparked both laughter and controversy, has returned to the spotlight in a new Netflix documentary titled Untold Raygun: Breaking Badly. The film, part of Netflix's Untold Sports series, delves into the rise and fall of the former B-girl turned academic, offering a critical look at how her participation in the Games became a cultural flashpoint. While the documentary aims to explore the complexities of breaking’s Olympic debut, many viewers have found it frustrating and unsatisfying. The documentary begins by tracing Raygun’s journey through the world of breakdancing. Introduced to the art form by her future husband and coach, Samuel Free, she quickly developed a deep passion for the discipline. Over time, she balanced her life as a competitive b-girl with her pursuit of academia, earning a Ph.D. while continuing to compete. Her unique style, often described as quirky and unconventional, set her apart from traditional breakers who focused on high-energy, technically demanding moves. Despite this, she remained committed to the sport, eventually qualifying to represent Oceania at the Olympics after winning a long-day competition. At the Games, Raygun faced a challenging reality. Unlike the elite athletes who dominated the competition with their powerful, intricate routines, her approach emphasized storytelling and cultural representation. During her performance, she incorporated elements of Australian identity, including references to swimming, kangaroos, and the iconic "sprinkler" move, a playful dance sequence that originated in Australia. While these choices were intended to celebrate her heritage, they also drew sharp criticism from some observers. Raygun did not score a single point, leading to immediate viral attention, and a wave of ridicule online. The documentary features several interviews with fellow breakers, including Tinylocks and Flix, two prominent Australian B-girls who have competed alongside Raygun for over a decade. However, their perspectives appear limited. Flix describes Raygun’s style as “quirky” and “unique,” yet offers little praise beyond these vague terms. Tinylocks, meanwhile, adheres strictly to the principle of “No easy props,” declining to acknowledge Raygun’s achievements unless she feels they are genuinely deserved. Throughout the film, these voices seem to reinforce a narrative that frames Raygun’s experience as a cautionary tale rather than a nuanced exploration of her contributions to the sport. The film also highlights the emotional toll of the backlash Raygun faced. Social media users initially laughed at her performance, but the tone soon shifted toward hostility. Some critics accused her of undermining the credibility of breakdancing, arguing that her lack of technical skill detracted from the sport’s legitimacy. These comments left Raygun feeling isolated and disheartened, prompting her to take a step back from competition. Yet, despite the negative reception, she has since resumed participating in breaking events, signaling a determination to continue pursuing her passion. As the documentary concludes, it leaves viewers with a sense of unresolved tension. While it attempts to provide insight into Raygun’s personal and professional struggles, its portrayal of her experience is often dismissive or overly critical. Many viewers have expressed frustration with the film’s tone, arguing that it fails to fully appreciate the broader significance of breaking’s inclusion in the Olympics. For Raygun, however, the story remains unfinished. She continues to engage with the sport, navigating the challenges of balancing her dual identities as an academic and a performer. Whether the public will ultimately see her efforts as a triumph or a misstep remains to be seen.