Most cinephiles will be familiar with Stacy Peralta’s skating career because of Catherine Hardwicke’s Lords of Dogtown, a biopic that depicts the development of a skateboarding scene in 1970s Santa Monica. That film, which was based on a screenplay written by Peralta, offered a fictionalized depiction of a specific period in his personal history. In the decades that followed, Peralta continued to branch out into other areas while infusing his increasingly diverse pursuits with his passion for skateboarding.
The new documentary Against the Current aims to expand the general public’s understanding of Peralta by providing an intimate portrait of Peralta’s transition into making art. Naturally, skateboarding continues to play a significant part in this endeavor, but his artistic process ends up taking center stage here. This is a side of Peralta that even longtime fans won’t have been exposed to, and there is enormous value in viewing his creative development through such a specific lens.
Zita Short had the opportunity to interview producer Charlie Smith about their new documentary, Against the Current.
Zita Short: Why do you think that athletic accomplishments have traditionally served as a rich source of inspiration for artists?
Charlie Smith: The aspirational nature of the undertaking. There’s a belief that the world is not done rendering itself into existence, that progress is possible, and that there are unknown barriers to be broken. Even within a team sport, the responsibility of the individual to be undeniably great is always there. But, add in personal style, and it becomes a dance of sorts with almost no clear “winner,” just new expressions.
Zita Short: How does Stacy Peralta’s art, which places a heavy emphasis on the history and development of skateboarding, fit into the lineage of athletically influenced art?
Charlie Smith: I’m tempted to say it almost does not. They are pretty straightforward studies of his old and used equipment. It’s a hyper fixation on this old equipment that was both his tool for freedom and his only limitation, and that changes through time. But I think he paints as they are found now, so there’s a lack of nostalgia there that I found compelling. I guess the most interesting facet is that there was no skateboarding before him and his generation; it simply did not exist.
Zita Short: Stacy Peralta makes note of the fact that he finds a kind of ugly beauty in images of rusty, corroded bolts. Why do you think that human beings are drawn to works of art that have the power to simultaneously attract and repel?
Charlie Smith: I’ve referred to it as a sort of The Picture of Dorian Gray show, only we don’t recoil anymore from a desire to share truth, in whatever form it may present itself. Nobody (yet) seems to be in love with all the AI-generated polished content out there. I think blurring and distorting are closer to how we perceive and store memories and emotions. Non-duality experiences are becoming more sought after in a post-advertising world.
Zita Short: In addition to serving as a producer, you work as an art curator at the Cruise Control Gallery. What are the challenges of working in this field, and what drew you to such a specific Californian cultural milieu?
Charlie Smith: Well, no one really seems to want to buy art. So I won’t sell the art per se. I sell the experience or the world of the artist. To get a master storyteller like Stacy to allow little old me to turn the camera on him was unexpected, to say the least. I’m trying to manage a non-retail art and community gathering zone in a place where this kind of stuff does not exist. I’m a fifth-generation Californian, and we have so much talent right here in our backyard; I think “global destination” type talk for art possibly discounts the setting where these works are produced and why.
Zita Short: Do you think that cinema is well-suited to capturing the power and intensity of the medium of visual art, or is film limited, to some degree, in its ability to capture its complexities?
Charlie Smith: I think it’s the closest to a dream. I think you can sugar pill and backdoor people’s defenses and hesitations by wrapping information in easy-to-digest sound and image combinations. I was raised on the Cinema of Transgression and Lydia Lunch, so this is pretty tame in comparison. But beyond shock, to fold time with the film, if anything, it tells too much. No one wants to really know how the sausage gets made. That’s why it is still palatable. But yeah, it’s an enhancement tool, I think, if you can get anyone to sit still and watch it.
Zita Short: Do you think there are any major artists or works of art that could serve as effective comparison points for Stacy Peralta’s works?
Charlie Smith: We didn’t show them in this program, but his abstracts are very Kandinsky. Stacy is an artist through and through, a lifestyle artist as well. His penchant for film and love of surfing and painting makes him sort of adjacent to a character like Julian Schnabel… Going against type has always been his thing; when the world zigs, he zags. The best compliment we’ve got is other artists asking how these were painted.
Zita Short: Why does Stacy Peralta’s story resonate so strongly with people who are deeply enmeshed in the California art scene today?
Charlie Smith: I think it’s the pioneer aspect primarily. The fact that he did it first. Grabbing his camera and making the skate video, The Search for Animal Chin employs storytelling in a sports/lifestyle film. It had never been done before. Ask anyone who’s seen a skateboard between the ages of 10 and 50, and they will know his name and what he did for the sport by following through on his beliefs and values. It’s a democratized merit-based system in the world of skateboarding; you just have to commit over and over. And he did. Most skaters grew up to make art in one way or another; they just couldn’t help themselves.
Zita Short: What part can cinema play in bringing visual art to a wider audience?
Charlie Smith: Now, with the phone, I mean you can reach anyone… I’m all for film as art and the romantic notion of this huge audience for well-made cinematic masterpieces. I still take myself to the movies. But there are fewer people there than ever. If you can express and document the “whys” and “hows” from the artists themselves, hopefully at its best, it is an invitation for someone else to come out and play in the sandbox of creation. Whatever form it takes.
