DOGTOWN AND Z-BOYS (Stacy Peralta, 2002) R

Reviewed: April 28th, 2002

I can't wait to own this film on DVD so I can whip it out at any given time and stuff it in the face of anyone who is ignorant enough to claim that documentaries are, as a general rule, boring. This is one of the most exciting films I've seen in awhile: incredibly alive and vital, always full of boundless energy. The director of this film, Stacy Peralta, was one of the titular Z-Boys, so imagine if Cameron Crowe made Almost Famous (or, rather, Untitled as I prefer to know it) as a documentary in Oliver Stone-JFK mode.

Here is a documentary that rarely holds any shot for more than a few moments, has interviews which are often just three or four line soundbytes and contains thousands upon thousands of still archival photos (many on screen for just a millisecond, one not even halfway zoomed into before the next one is already being panned across or zoomed out of). Endless numbers of great songs blanket the soundtrack, mostly playing for under ten seconds each. What feels like millions of feet of old, 16mm, archival film are assembled with the intensity of a splatterpaint collage. Though not to say Dogtown and Z-Boys is ever disorganized or disjointed. The movie merely doesn't wanna stop, and we definitely don't blame it.

If Peralta is trying to cut to the heart of an interview, he doesn't even have time to jumpcut, he just fast forwards the film right on screen. Sean Penn, as narrator, flubs a line? Fuck it, he just clears his throat, says it again and keeps on going. This movie's so relentless it'd give my arch nemesis Guy Ritchie a run for his money, but the difference between Ritchie and this film is that here the stylistic approach to the material is integral and fitting. After all, this is essentially a documentary on skateboarding in the 70s (I'm simplifying a bit right now, forgive me, more on this later) so why would you ever let up for a moment? The Z-Boys definitely didn't. The audience needs to feel the thrill that the Z-Boys felt in the 70s, and that's no easy task, because indeed, all the events being described happened three decades ago. We need to feel like we were there and so to make this documentary any other way, that is, at any less of a breakneck pace, would be completely wrong.

I mentioned that Peralta was a Z-Boy himself, so you can imagine how intoxicated he is with his subjects. The Dogtown world was his life for a long time and his drunkenness is infectious. His interviewees--fellow Z-Boys he's known his whole life--will be recounting an anecdote and you can hear Peralta laughing hysterically off-camera. Unprofessional? Perhaps, but who cares? Why not laugh if what they're saying is funny? No pretenses; this movie is raw and real. Yes, it might be a love letter to Dogtown and the Z-Boys themselves, but it's not a glossy one (that said, I do admit that how skateboarding faded or particularly how the Z-Boys faded away is a little unclear; this movie isn't about the Z-Boys' downfall, but even using the word downfall is not so apt, since aside from one or two of the boys, they seem to have become pretty successful adults, most still involved in the skateboarding/surfing world in some capacity).

Some have taken Peralta to task for self-aggrandizing. There is one particular portion of the movie where Peralta documents how he became the most financially successful of the Z-Boys. But it's the truth, presented honestly. Would we really want Peralta to leave the information out? And in the next portion of the film he's already making it extremely clear that he was by no means the most talented Z-Boy, or even the second most talented, just the most business savvy and shrewdest. I'm happy as hell Peralta himself made this film and I don't think anyone else could have.

I mentioned that saying Dogtown and Z-Boys is about skateboarding is simplifying a bit because while yes, technically, that's what this is a documentary on, it's easy to see that this movie is also a document of what it was like to be young in the 70s, to live in the moment, to create your own mini world. Here's a bunch of guys who would sneak into strangers' backyards and use water pumps to drain the strangers' thirty-thousand gallon pools so they could skate 'em until the cops showed up. The Z-Boys did whatever the fuck they wanted. One of the reasons I personally love documentaries is because it's one of the main ways I learn about subjects I would otherwise never know anything about. I am the cliché of someone learning most things through the movies. Am I ever gonna take it upon myself to research the history/evolution of Venice, CA and skateboarding? No way. But present it to me in a film as wonderful as Dogtown and Z-Boys and I'll devour the information. Especially when it's Information as Pure Joy.

There is no reason Dogtown and Z-Boys couldn't be a big hit besides the fact that Hollywood rules dictate it will never be able to have the marketing funds it would need to raise proper awareness. We're living in a culture where the Tony Hawk (who was originally discovered by Peralta) line of video games are the most popular in America right now. Every teenage boy with a video game console is playing them, every teenage boy knows who Tony Hawk is. I don't know how popular live-action skateboarding itself is anymore, but it sure as hell is the best thing in the world to millions of people on a TV screen in Videoland.

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