During some downtime this past summer, I asked friends for any streaming recommendations. When one of them suggested watching “American’s Sweethearts: Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders,” I was shocked. Not that Netflix is a bastion of meaningful content, but I was still surprised at what seemed like frivolous entertainment.  

I was wrong. I went from “I’m not watching that garbage,” to being wholly invested in the series in about five minutes. 

“America’s Sweethearts: Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders” is a seven-part docu-series for Netflix that follows the behind-the-scenes 2023-24 audition process for becoming a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader (DCC). Premiering last June, it is directed and produced by Greg Whiteley, who is also the creator of hits like “Cheer,” “Last Chance U” and “Wrestlers.”  

The series reveals the long, arduous process of becoming a DCC cheerleader, which involves much more than great dancing and gorgeous looks.  

Watching the first episode, I was convinced I would be angry at the organization and what the cheerleaders did and endured to become one. Instead, I became one of the biggest fans. 

As the series develops, we get to know many of the aspiring cheerleaders and the team’s veterans.  

The spotlight mostly shines on rookie candidate Reece Allman, who eventually makes the team. The series also visits veterans Kelcey Wetterberg and Victoria Kalina, following their journeys and life outside the organization.  

But the cheerleaders are only a piece of the story. We are given a behind-the-scenes look at the team director, Kelli Finglass, and Judy Trammell, the team choreographer.  

From the beginning, Reece is Kelli’s favorite. Admittedly, this University of Alabama alumnae is charming and endearing. Although Reece sends in one of the most sizzling audition reels, she also makes it clear her religion and faith are the center of her life.  

In the opening episode, we see many other audition reels. We get an insider’s look at the process as Kelli and Judy comb through the tapes. They are tasked with trimming down hundreds of hopefuls to just 36.  

These videos are fascinating. Those auditioning are not garden-variety park and recreation dancers but professionals who have performed as soloists and easily demonstrate superior dance technique and built-in artistry. 

As the series evolved, I joined the ranks of any viewers who have expressed shock at the physical demands on the cheerleaders. 

In addition to learning 50 routines, one of the most arduous and physically demanding moves they do is the “jump splits.” To execute a jump split, one must jump high into the air and leap, landing in a split. 

It requires not only physicality but also precise timing. Because all 36 cheerleaders’ arms are linked in the jump splits, one split-second off can injure them and the other cheerleaders.  

The jump splits never fail to inspire thunderous applause across the Dallas Cowboys’ AT&T Stadium. However, by doing gravity-defying moves over several years, there are good odds that they will have a lifetime of osteoarthritis or at least a few hip replacements.  

The demands don’t stop with the grueling training. There are also mental demands. 

Four-year veteran Victoria is desperate to get noticed or approval from Kelli and Judy, whether because she wants to learn leadership skills or, as it is referenced, previous weight gain. Victoria later shares her eating disorder issues in the past. It is implied that her lack of confidence and eating disorder correlates with her experience with the DCC. 

Another mental toll comes when five-year veteran Kelcey learns that a DCC follower has placed an air tag in her car, revealing her address to them. While we never know if the person who dropped the tag in her car was found, we feel Kelcey’s disbelief and anxiety.  

As I continued the series, I realized it isn’t hard to get caught up in the drama or emotionally invested in the women enduring the audition and practice sessions. There is something authentic about these women, whether they cheer one another on or say goodbye to a friend who doesn’t make the team.  

The most painful part of this docu-series is the vignettes of the women being cut from the team. It’s hard to watch them grovel and try to persuade Kelli to give them a second chance.  

When Kelli tells two women that their high kicks are not high enough, both ask for more time to increase their leg extension and kicks. But Kelli tells them that experience has told her that it is unrealistic, and they have run out of time. Watching their tears flow is gut-wrenching. 

“Sweethearts” is a captivating look at the talented women who dedicate themselves to their passion. Everybody knows football players endure mental and physical demands, but we respect and often increase our admiration for them. Cheerleaders endure the same, if not more, but are subject to the male gaze and public ridicule. 

It’s hard not to become thoroughly attached and moved by the women trying to land their dream gig. Although it may seem squandering and needless to the average viewer; it is not needless to them.   

Maybe that is the whole point of a good docu-series — to gain a better understanding of the subjects and, as a result, become emotionally involved and yearn for more.