Strip Down, Rise Up: Why Sheila Kelley’s Pole Documentary Still Hits Different

Honestly, most people saw the trailer for Strip Down, Rise Up on Netflix and thought it was just going to be another "wellness" documentary where everyone cries in a circle and magically feels better. It’s way more complicated than that. Directed by Michèle Ohayon, the film dives into the world of S Factor, a pole dancing and movement program created by Sheila Kelley. If you recognize Kelley, it’s probably from The Good Doctor or Lost, but in this world, she's basically the high priestess of "the curve."

The movie doesn't just show fit women doing incredible acrobatics. It focuses on women who are, frankly, struggling. They are dealing with trauma, body dysmorphia, and the heavy weight of societal expectations. It’s gritty. It’s raw. And it’s surprisingly polarizing.

What Strip Down, Rise Up Actually Gets Right About Trauma

Most fitness documentaries focus on the "after" photo. You know the one. The lighting is better, the person is smiling, and everything is fixed. Strip Down, Rise Up isn't interested in that. It’s interested in the "during."

Sheila Kelley’s philosophy centers on the idea that trauma is stored in the body. This isn't just "woo-woo" talk; it aligns with what experts like Bessel van der Kolk discuss in The Body Keeps the Score. When you’ve been through something traumatic, you often disconnect from your physical self. You go numb. The film shows a group of women—ranging from a cancer survivor to a woman mourning the loss of her husband—trying to find their way back into their own skin.

One of the most moving participants is Amy. She’s dealing with the aftermath of a brutal assault, and her journey isn't a straight line. It’s messy. She freezes. She regresses. Seeing her eventually find power in her own movement is probably the most honest depiction of somatic healing I've seen on a mainstream platform. It reminds you that healing isn't a performance. It's a slow, often painful reclamation of space.

The cinematography helps here. It’s intimate. Sometimes it feels almost voyeuristic, which is uncomfortable but effective. You’re forced to look at bodies that don't fit the "Instagram athlete" mold—bodies with scars, cellulite, and stories.

The Controversy You Might Have Missed

Look, we have to talk about the elephant in the room. Pole dancing has roots. Deep ones. Specifically in the world of sex work.

When Strip Down, Rise Up first dropped, it sparked a lot of conversation within the actual pole community. A lot of exotic dancers felt like the film "sanitized" the art form or tried to divorce it from the women who actually built the industry in clubs. There’s a tension there. Kelley’s S Factor is marketed as a "feminine movement" practice, often stripped of the "stripper" label to make it more palatable for suburban women.

Is it empowering? Yes. Is it also a bit of cultural appropriation? Some argue so.

The film tries to bridge this by including instructors like Jenyne Goldberg and Elizabeth Rose, who are legends in the pole world. But the focus remains heavily on the emotional catharsis of the students. It’s a valid critique to wonder if the film does enough to credit the sex workers who pioneered the techniques these women are using to "find themselves."

If you're watching this, you have to hold both truths at once:

1. This practice is life-changing for the women in the film.
2. The industry this practice comes from is still stigmatized and marginalized.

The S Factor Method: Is It Just Dance?

Not really. If you go into an S Factor studio expecting a standard cardio class, you’re going to be very confused. It’s slow. Like, really slow.

The method is built on "the curve." Kelley argues that traditional exercise is linear and masculine—think of a bicep curl or a treadmill. S Factor is about circles and spirals. It’s about letting the body lead rather than the mind commanding the muscles.

In Strip Down, Rise Up, we see the "blackout" sessions. These are classes held in near darkness with no mirrors. The logic is simple: if you can’t see yourself, you stop judging yourself. You start feeling. It sounds simple, but for someone who has spent decades hating their reflection, being in a room where the reflection doesn't exist is a radical act.

There’s also the "lap dance" element. For many of the women, performing for each other is the hardest part. It’s about being seen without shame. The film captures that terrifying moment when a woman realizes she is allowed to be sensual for her own sake, not for a partner's.

✨ Don't miss: Celebrate Performer The Greatest Love Of All: Why This Tribute Still Moves Us

Why the Ending Still Sticks With You

By the time the documentary reaches its climax—the final showcase—you’ve spent nearly two hours with these women. You know about their grief. You know about their fear.

The showcase isn't a professional dance recital. It’s a ritual. When Jen, a woman who had been hiding behind baggy clothes and a wall of emotional armor, finally takes the stage, it feels like a victory. Not because her dancing is "perfect," but because she’s present.

The film makes a strong case for the idea that joy is a form of resistance. When the world tells women to be smaller, quieter, and more "appropriate," choosing to move wildly and sensually is a rebellion.

Actionable Takeaways for Your Own Journey

You don't need a $2,000 brass pole in your living room to take something away from Strip Down, Rise Up. The core principles are surprisingly accessible if you're willing to be a little bit "cringe" for a second.

• Try the "Mirror Fast": Spend a few days trying not to look in the mirror for anything other than basic grooming. Focus on how your body feels (tired, energized, tight) rather than how it looks.
• Move Without a Plan: Put on a song you love and move. Don't "dance" for an audience. Just let your limbs go where they want. If it feels awkward, you're doing it right.
• Acknowledge the Story: Your body holds your history. If you have a physical reaction to stress—like a tight jaw or a knotted stomach—don't just try to "fix" it. Ask what it’s trying to tell you.
• Research the Roots: If you decide to take a pole class (which you should, it’s a killer workout), take the time to learn about the history of the sport and the sex workers who built the foundations of the moves you're learning.

Strip Down, Rise Up isn't a perfect film, but it is an important one. It challenges the idea that "fitness" is only about the external. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the only way to get through the hard stuff is to move right through the middle of it.

The next step isn't just watching the movie; it's looking at how you inhabit your own skin. Whether you're in a dance studio or just walking down the street, there's a lot of power in simply refusing to hide anymore. Grab some knee pads, find a space where you feel safe, and start moving. The rise-up part usually follows the stripping away of everyone else's expectations.

📖 Related: BC TV Guide Vancouver Canada: Why Finding What’s On Is Kinda Complicated Now

Check out the documentary on Netflix if you haven't yet, and keep an eye out for Sheila Kelley’s more recent workshops, which have expanded significantly into online spaces since the film's release. Use the techniques of "un-learning" movement patterns to rediscover your own natural rhythm. Focus on the internal sensation rather than the external aesthetic. This is where the real work happens.