Action Park—the infamous New Jersey amusement park where guests were encouraged to use life-threatening rides with sometimes deadly results—was so popular in the 1980s that even Donald Trump apparently once came to see what all the fuss was about.

“Trump was chatting up these teenage employees trying to ask them about their jobs,” Class Action Park codirector Seth Porges told Vanity Fair in a recent interview. “And what they told me was Trump, after actually seeing this in person, didn’t really want to be involved with the business venture. He viewed it as potentially too nuts—too nutty just for him.”

Out Thursday on HBO Max, the documentary Class Action Park—the cheeky title was inspired by one of the morbid nicknames for Action Park—attempts to grapple with the fraught history of the New Jersey theme park opened by Eugene Mulvihill in 1978.

“They’re very similar personalities. I don’t think anybody would argue with that,” Porges said of Mulvihill, who died in 2012, and Trump. “I don’t think that’s a political statement to make either.”

Like Trump, Porges said, Mulvihill rose to power during the 1980s as a brash real estate developer who had “a casual disregard for the word no.

“It’s hard to look at a character like Gene and not think of somebody like Trump,” Porges added. “And I think that’s what makes it interesting…These guys were friends back in this era. One of them decided that he wanted to be Walt Disney, the other decided he wanted to be like Ronald Reagan. It’s like, what would have happened if Donald Trump had opened a theme park? I think that’s really what Action Park is.”

To those who grew up in the Northeast during the 1980s, Action Park was viewed as either an urban legend or a rite of passage. “You gotta go there and come back with some scars,” comedian and New Jersey native Chris Gethard says in the film, having experienced the park firsthand. “You gotta go take your lumps at Action Park if you really want to grow up and be a young man in this world.”

Opened in 1978, Action Park was notable for its outlandish and often dangerous rides—many of which Mulvihill tweaked or designed himself—and inexperienced staff. Unlike its more corporate brethren Disney and Six Flags, Action Park was reportedly run like something out of an ’80s movie: staffed with local teenagers more concerned with getting drunk and having sex than worrying about whether or not a customer was injured on a ride.