|
 |
|
|
| |
"Dogtown and Z-Boys," directed by Stacy Peralta, Sundance winner of Best Director and Documentary Audience Awards
Using skateboarding as his vehicle, Peralta tells the story of an entire underground cultural movement with a powerful ripple effect that is still very much an influence on youth culture, music, and action sports today. Based on a gang of 12 teenagers mostly from broken families living in Venice during the '70's, this true story traces the rise and fall of the Zephyr Team and the ghetto style of its unlikely heroes.
In the early '70's Venice and southern Santa Monica had turned from a popular amusement park into a cesspool rife with gangs, graffiti artists, and daring surfers who'd pull wicked rides in-between fallen pilings and debris. It was here that surfboard shaper Jeff Ho, along with Skip Engblom, and artist/writer Craig Stecyk, ran a surf shop in an area known as Dogtown at the corner of Main and Bay Street. Kids hung out here after surfing doing odd jobs and in a sense, became a part of a family, known as the "Z-boys." Director Stacy Peralta, Jay Adams, and Tony Alva were among the crew who would surf all morning, and hangout by the shop during the day and epitomized the dudes of Dogtown.
Peralta calls the fate of their lives during the mid-'70's a "disharmonic convergence:" Polyurethane wheels replaced cement wheels, a drought resulted in many empty pools, 5 schools were built near hills where these guys went to school, and asphalt banks made up for waves. When the surf sessions were over, these guys lived for skateboarding, pulling moves that resembled their favorite surfers such as Larry Bertleman. "We didn't want to be a loser; skateboarding was something we were actually good at," recalls Peralta. So, they'd practice "bert's" or low-moves with their hands out on the pavement, riding their skateboards in 360's, and pushing each other into perfecting their own unique styles.
In 1975, Jeff Ho and Skip Engblom assembled their Zephyr team, complete with blue T-shirts and Vans shoes, to compete in the Del Mar Nationals by Bahne skateboards and Cadillac Wheels. Ho and Engblom sent out their most talented and youngest skater, Jay Adams, who pulled tricked-out freestyle routines and berts in a performance that had judges perplexed about how to judge them. The team's badass, low-rider style basically set new precedents for skateboarding competitors and raised the bar for the future of skateboarding.
But the success of the Z-Boys would also be their demise. These guys were good and corporate sponsors cherry-picked the best. Peralta went on to travel the world and make loads of money, Tony Alva started his own skateboard company, and Adams took a crash course in drugs and is rehabbing to this day in a Hawaiian prison. (Note about Jay Adams-the movie portrays this guy as a purebred-a talented person who's only intentions and soul were to surf and skate but who was persuaded by the dark side once competition, sponsorship, and money entered the picture. Peralta in a Q&A after the screening said that Adams is in a positive space now and working on getting out of the correctional facility he's currently in. "Jay Adams was too pure," said Peralta, "he had the original virus and was better than all of us.")
Thanks to the photos and words of Craig Stecyk who was there to capture these guys, the culture of skateboarding and it's ghetto roots and guerrilla styles were brought to others. Appearances by Pearl Jam's Jeff Ament,
Henry Rollins, and Ian Mackeye from Fugazi give accolades to the Z-boys and lend to the authenticity and influence this young crew created on a national audience who lived for their SkateBoarder Magazine.
As for the filmmaking process, the almost manic editing soundly captures the energy of the film. But it's the use of textures from many different kinds of pallets including old 8mm and 16mm footage and still photos from old SkateBoarder mags that give it it's retro authenticity and groove. Add to that was unbeatable narration by Sean Penn (where mid-way he clears his throat and the editors purposely leave it in), and a sound track that lays down the darker side of the old boys, including the Stooges, Zep, Sabbath, the Nuge, and Pink Floyd. (Peralta said they were able to score music rights to "Dark Side of the Moon" for only $100.)
The birth of vertical skateboarding can be traced directly to Dogtown and the Z-Boys. It was a time of concrete warfare, of guerrilla tactics to score places to play and skate and compete and become something other than gang losers. As Stecyk wrote years ago, these guys made far more out of what the architects had originally planned with the building of a concrete world which southern California was turning into. It took the imagination of teenagers to make a lifestyle out of the detritus that surrounded their lives. -K. Gasperini
###
|
|
|
|
|
|
