Posts Tagged ‘Stacy Peralta’

On And Off Again: A Video Magazine’s Tale

February 1, 2009


In case you don’t understand, I’ma make it understood again

ON Video: a FIC x BTO collab

Right up front let me just tell you how I’m generally unreliable and a veteran procrastinator: I hollered at frozen in carbonite quite some time ago to see if he wanted to do kind of a point/counterpoint thing about 411’s star-crossed “On Video” series, after I issued some smart remark about it and he nobly rose to On’s defense. So he wrote some shit and sent it to me. In the ensuing months, love affairs were launched, puppies lost and reclaimed, missiles deployed, an historic presidential election.

Oh, and in all that time I didn’t watch or download or stream a single piece of On Video footage, and I know there’s at least one floating around my hard-drive. I think it’s the Rodney Mullen one, which I did watch at one point, and downloaded years later in hopes that it was the Love Park issue and I could comb it for Kalis footage to include in this project. But, I didn’t even watch that. And, I never bought any.

Which is basically what I imagine the guestbook at the On Video wake would have read. “Never bought one.” “Watched part of it at my cousin’s house once.” “Got ‘Reel to Real’ instead.” “Too much talking.” Et cetera. On Video, beloved by some, ignored by others, bought by very few. It was definitely a much-welcome lifesaver those long Wednesday mornings when I worked a skate shop, but even then I don’t recall watching one more than once or twice, with the possible exception of the half-hour Danny Way love-feast. And didn’t ever buy one, even with my mighty 10%-above-cost discount.

I did purchase the Arcade tour video, but that’s a whole other ball of worms and just one of my several personal problems.

Which is not to say the forward-thinking On series, and their obnoxious magazine ads with the inexplicable giant red dots, served zero purpose aside from running down the Natas-Satan name imbroglio to half-wit sixth graders. Fueled by a great abundance of tour footage, in an age when each and every road trip was deemed worthy of its own 411 segment (or a section in the abysmal “Around the World” videos), On got people thinking about the history, personalities and places skateboarding has produced over the past few decades as a subject worthy of serious consideration for your independent documentaries or vanity press books or what have you, at roughly the same time the current incarnation of skateboarding was powdering its collective nose for star turns on ESPN, MTV, and any numbers of theaters near you.

Frozen in Carbonite lauds On Video, rightly, for parsing the process behind pivotal video parts, people, places in skateboarding, ideas that were picked and expanded upon by the Stacy Peraltas and Epicly Later’ds and various others. Interesting, sometimes intriguing, usually at least marginally entertaining. But when the chips have been counted and so on, to me the process will forever be second to the finished product, burger over bun, the four-point-five second clip rather than the 90 intense minutes it took to climb the fence, pass over the generator and camera bags, patch the cracks and set up the lights.

Hearing Marc Johnson emphasize the stress and drama that went into making “Fully Flared” doesn’t put the proverbial balls any closer to the wall when it comes to Alex Olson’s part, or make the see-saw slow motion any less distracting. Commentaries are fine, and I enjoyed hearing about Guy Mariano’s favorite hat and the Girl honchos’ ruminations on rap music in video parts, but after one or two times through I’m back to the Earth Wind & Fire, thank you. And trying to build a skate video around the documentary idea hasn’t proved especially successful, at least to me (and I’m thinking mainly of the at-times eyeball-rolling “Hot Chocolate” video here).

And you know what – there’s something to be said for the apocrypha of skateboarding, stories that belong to them what who was there or somehow passed down via skateboard shop bullshitting, post-video screening mullings or after you’ve been at the spot a couple hours and everybody’s spending more time shooting the shit than trying tricks anymore. As valuable as the Andy Roy Big Brother interview remains, as a document and, for some, a manifesto for living, there’s something vaguely sad about the idea of it being reduced to a handful of jpgs to be bandied about messageboards and LOL’ed over. It’s sort of disappointing to think that anybody with a cable modem can click through the highlights of “Tim & Henry’s Pack of Lies,” a video that used to be next to impossible to see, much less own.

Insert here bitter old man comment re: earning it, building character, etc.

It’s certainly not like I hated On Video. And it’s not like I don’t love Epicly Later’d (though my shriveled internet grinch heart did break a bit when Pappalardo and Wenning didn’t get back together at the end of the most recent episode). Without On’s at times fumbly foundation-building, maybe O’Dell wouldn’t have been able to nail it as he seems to have done – disposable, free-of-charge slices of skateboard lore in easy-to-digest six-minute bites, to be viewed and forgotten as necessary, bought on disc by the library-builders. It remains to be seen how often I come back to the DVD of season one, which I didn’t pay for… or the Lakai box set, which I did. (Sans Blu-Ray players, too.) The grand fool-maker time will no doubt reveal which ends up being the better investment…

Have It Your Way

January 9, 2009


“Our burgers are fucking delicious,” perhaps

Hitching your wagon to the whims of the masses can make for an interesting ride. Decision by consensus has produced some amazing cultural milestones in our time, including but not limited to the Soulja Boy dance, David Archuletta and Wikipedia.

Of course public opinion is often way off to the point of blowing it entirely: CNN entrusted the internet peanut gallery with reporting power, which produced a sort-of plausible but still wildly untrue story about Steve Jobs nearly dying. There’s the inexplicable appeal of “The Mummy” movies, as well as David Archuletta.

I’ve noticed that skateboard-minded advertising is similarly hit-and-miss in this way. Real boldly rolled the dice with a minimalist ad generated by the Slap message board brain-trust, specifically known Hero Member “sal23,” in reaction to some apparently questionable prose accompanying the current campaign. Anyway, behold:

Real’s populist/“plain folks” approach seems to have resonated with the masses, who heaped plaudits on sal23 (“with the their/there/they’re shitty grammar and all”) to the point that he is no doubt entertaining offers from Leo Burnett, among others.

Z-mogul Stacy Peralta had less luck with his recent “Whopper Virgins” ad for BK, in which he served up the floppy sandwich to the moribund citizenry of far-flung zones in Thailand, Greenland and Transylvania as a kind of ultimate taste test against the mighty Big Mac. Or something. It’s only sort of interesting and kind of long, but if you wanna watch it, here it is, funny outfits and all:

Peralta wound up getting slagged in the media for exploiting third world residents’ marginal sophistication when it comes to fast foods:
-“Outrageous” declared Sharon Akabas of the Institute of Human Nutrition at Columbia University
-“Insensitive” stated Marilyn Borchardt, development director for Food First

More distressing, Peralta came in for even more flame-broiled criticism from online comment forums:
-“The most nauseating, soul-destroying bit of corporate propaganda that I’ve seen in a long time” clucked one anonymous poster.

Of course the King and his court probably meant to stir the coals a bit with the ad, working people into a tizzy before coming back to sweep us off our feet with the scent of roasted cow-flesh. Hopefully Peralta fares better with his new documentary on the Sharks’n’Jets, where he may be playing for significantly higher stakes.