When I was a child, I wanted to start skateboarding. In my mind, it was synonymous with being one of the cool kids. Walking in style, dressing in style. Being free and independent, spontaneously going with others to see unknown parts of the city and skating in forbidden places. Arguing with police officers and supervisors, even if you feel that you're not right. Feeling that you are a part of a great subculture, fighting against oppressors. Trying to look tough in the eyes of your colleagues. And at the end of the day, coming back home, throwing the board into the corner of the room, and playing some loud music, dancing along. I was probably romanticizing it a lot. It was the time of Tony Hawk's games and films in which you could find at least one cool skateboarding guy in a bunch of friends group at school. In the end, it didn't happen. I skateboarded once, just for a one-second-try, on a board belonging to a neighbour.
Romanticizing skateboarding
I realized in 2019 that I still romanticize skateboarding. Someday, while looking for a new pair of shoes, I got a bunch of YouTube advertisements from Adidas, Nike, and Vans in my proposals. After a while of watching some of these, I felt like they weren't the usual commercials. These engaged some great skateboarders, showing off their tricks. The fisheye camera was going behind them everywhere. Streets, parks, stairs — every place belonged to them while on board. That night, I watched over a dozen of these videos. Shots taken in the sunshine, atmospheric music, and editing created a vision of another world, where the board is everything. I realized that skateboarding is a sort of art. Also, a school of hard work and perseverance, even if it takes thousands of repetitions of the same trick and hundreds of wounds; keeping in mind that one day you will experience pure joy when you perform the long-awaited, perfect trick, accompanied by salves of applause from your friends.
Skateboarding documentary
I felt like I needed more. The next day, I found a new full-length documentary film about skateboarding: "Minding the Gap" from 2018. Bing Liu, a member of the buddies pack, has captured around 12 years on tapes: Keire, Zack, and his lives in the background of skateboarding. It was not as careless as I thought as a youngster. The director shot beautiful and, more importantly, tough moments. A picture of how skateboarding can be escapism from all the surrounding pain. In "Minding the Gap", something is constantly breaking, cracking, and falling apart. Splinters fall off skateboards after unsuccessful tricks and excessively extreme rides, but also after uncontrolled attacks of fury. Voices are broken, expectations and plans are shattered, and uncertainty turns into constant anxiety.
Hidden emotions
Bing Liu showed that guys having fun on skateboards, caring about nothing, looking fancy and tough, are being shaped by moments of weakness. Along with, that is a portrait of becoming adults and psychotherapy of home abuse, a lack of prospects, and missed opportunities. A mosaic from video-captured moments of realizing that it's too late to make some dreams come true; noticing that you are attempting to conceal every instance of weakness in stimulants; feeling bad about what you did and looking at it in disbelief; stabbing pain in your heart when you look at your child and see that you are the type of dad that you were always saying you wouldn't be. Joy is mixed with dominating sadness, which can be seen on the faces of young people who, over time, became wildly serious; started to understand who they are and try to diagnose where their problems come from. The maturity of this documentary pours out of the screen with the tears of the heroes.
(Image by GregPlom under Pixabay License)
The scale of openness, readiness for dialogue, asking tough questions, and confronting each other's memories and emotions is also impressive. These are usually things that, for many, remain inaccessible and buried in the crypt of the subconscious for many years after the trauma. The essence is honest emotions; the authenticity of life experiences is just direct, without unnatural tightening. The director does not impose a judgement; he turns the cards over one by one in no hurry. He skilfully puts together all the puzzles of his history, his life, and the lives of his friends and their families. If you are looking for a slice of everyday difficult life in the documents, that's what you will find in this Oscar-winning film.
Rating: 10/10
About me
I'm Maciej, a student of journalism. Partly an enthusiast of everything, trying to always look at things with an open mind and from a broad perspective. A man caring for the inner kid and trying not to lose the feeling of innocent enjoyment of every day. On this website, in the role of an amateur of films and music. Older, newer, from Thailand to South Africa, through Estonia; every piece of art described from my perspective, with personal memories and insights into a soul. If you are interested in what thoughts about culture some other man can gather, here I am. Let’s see if we are soulmates or whether we complete each other.