One of the first steps in filmmaking is figuring out who your audience is.
I made this film for the 13 year-old “me”.
In 1995, I slung newspapers off a metallic blue mountain bike all summer. I battled episodes of heat exhaustion, popped bicycle chains and tires, leashless twin black labrador retrievers who seemed to have an insatiable craving for African-American paperboy blood, and hater-ass, omnipresent water gun and grenade-wielding neighborhood kids… All while balancing my 8,800 pound carrier bag as it relentlessly dug into my bony shoulders. Net pay: 48 beans. Every two weeks. Damn, young fella.
$48 may not sound like much, but saved up over the summer, it afforded me the priceless opportunity to achieve my ultimate goal: The purchase of my favorite ball player’s signature shoe: The Nike “Air Max Penny”.
This experience lit a small flame of passion inside me, which was inevitably fanned by the many amazing designs Nike, Fila, and Reebok would release afterwards. That fire still burns inside me, almost 20 years later. Sometimes the fire rages, like the night I slept in my car outside the Westfield Topanga Mall for a chance to grab the metallic red Nike “Foamposite One”. Other times , it smolders, like that fateful 102 degree afternoon the sole of my black “Flightposites” yawned open at the 2003 College World Series.
That fire was fully rekindled through the creative process of this documentary film. So depending on where you are in your sneaker collecting, I hope to either pass the torch to you, or just share some heat with you.
I hope you will find this film to be one that ties the laces of our rich, crisp sneaker culture a little tighter through the interviews, thoughts, ideas, ideals, and stories of a few fellow shoe enthusiasts, who strive to keep their “sneaker heads” abovethehype.