There are places we return to because of how much of ourselves we have left in them. For the skaters in Jayme Kaye Gershen’s short documentary ‘The Floor Remembers’, that place is a roller rink in Kendall, Florida. Some first came through its doors as children and still turn up on Monday nights. It’s easy to see why the rink means so much to them. I only wish the film had given us more time to get to know a few of the people who keep coming back.

The rink has changed names and owners over the years, from its early days as Hot Wheels to its current life as Miami Roller Rink. The wooden floor has remained, and there’s something lovely about seeing people skate as adults in the same room where they learned as children. But the film covers enough history to make you curious without always going far enough to satisfy that curiosity. I wanted to hear more about how the rink changed as the people who grew up in it got older, and how it made room for those just arriving.

The documentary is most enjoyable when it lets the skaters do their thing. Miami Bass and Latin Freestyle give the Monday gatherings their energy, and there’s a pleasure in watching people with very different styles find their rhythm on the same floor. Gershen’s decision to give a regular skater a camera also makes sense for a film so invested in how people see their own community. It’s a promising idea, though I came away with a stronger impression of the room than of any individual in it.

The archival footage is one of the film’s better touches to be fair. For anyone who spent part of their childhood at a rink, those older images may bring back memories of their own. They also make the passage of time tangible in a way the account of changing names and owners can only explain. I would have liked a little more of that interplay between the footage and the people looking back on those years. The archive gives us a glimpse of what they remember, and the film could have done more with it.

The possibility of closure should give the short some urgency, especially with other neighbourhood rinks already gone. That concern is there, but the film spends so much of its time celebrating the place that the threat never lands with the force it could. Even within fifteen minutes, a closer look at what one or two regulars stood to lose might have made the prospect feel more immediate.

Certainly, ‘The Floor Remembers’ is an affectionate portrait with good music and a few lovely moments on the rink. By the end, I understood why people were reluctant to say goodbye. I just didn’t feel their loss as keenly as I’d hoped.

Rating: 3/5 Stars