SAN DIEGO — Not until two minutes and six seconds into a new documentary on Tony Hawk do we hear from the native San Diegan who's ridden skateboards to millions of dollars in earnings, international fame and status as the sport's most accomplished competitor.
What we first hear from Hawk aren't words but three groans of agony as the 53-year-old athlete writhes on his back following yet another wipeout in one of his discovery missions.
Why is this creaky-boned millionaire, father and husband still exposing himself to more concussions, cracked body parts and whiplash? Heeding one of their longtime friends, a skateboarding sensei and promoter, will Hawk's buddies intervene and save Hawk from himself? (Hint, they're fellow 50somethings who, even as grandfathers, are still subjecting themselves to similar wipeouts.)
Director Sam Jones, to his credit, can't be accused of over-glamorizing either the endorphin-unleashing sport of vertical skateboarding or Hawk, whose "Pro Skater" video games have generated more than $1 billion in sales.
The newly released HBO Max film, spanning two hours and eight minutes and drawing upon searing interviews with Hawk, many of his family members and former professional skateboarders from his past, fully merits its title: "Tony Hawk: Until the Wheels Fall Off."
For the skateboarding cognoscenti, a behind-the-scenes look at how Hawk conquered the terrifying "900" maneuver, a twist of two-and-half turns that was too daunting for many other professionals to attempt, could be enough to carry the film.
"I didn't understand where I was in the air and I ended up landing on my back twice," says Hawk of the preliminary and inevitably painful trial-and-error sessions. "I wasn't ready to commit to that spin."
Following each harrowing miss leading up to his breakthrough trick at the 1999 X Games, the crowd and Hawk's fellow competitors exhort him to try again.
The look on Hawk's lean face states no encouragement was needed.
"He just said, 'Either I'm going to make this trick, or somebody's going to take me off on a stretcher — that's how it's gonna go,' " says one of Hawk's two sisters, Pat.
Hawk's singular focus and fearlessness at mastering new tricks astonished even fellow professional skateboarders. Though physically gifted — able to hinge his angular physique over the board in ideal posture — it was Hawk's problem-solving stamina that ultimately trumped the competition, said one expert.
"Tony does not tire of getting hurt," says Stacy Peralta, founder of the Bones Brigade team with which Hawk began his professional career. "Tony does not tire of repetition."
The film doesn't shy from attempting to plumb the seemingly bottomless depths of Hawk's motivational wellspring to invent and perfect skateboarding tricks.
Pat, the second of Hawk's three older siblings, connects painful dots relating to her mother's comment at the time that Tony, born more than a decade after each sibling, was a mistake. Hawk spares himself no scrutiny when contrasting his aplomb on the skateboard with his inability to handle the ego-pumping, material fruits of his fast-lane lifestyle in the 1980s and 1990s.
"There's infidelity. Lying to myself about justification. Not being with others. Not being honest with myself. A lot of other things that should have taken priority in my life, especially my kids, fell by the wayside," he says.
"I didn't like myself, I didn't like the choices I was making," he adds. "And, that started to spiral worse and worse. I'm going to distract over here. I'm going to anesthetize with this. It's just like, what is wrong with you? Why can't you just be content?"
Accompanied by the soundtrack of Hawk's youth — pulsating punk rock from the Sex Pistols, the Clash, Stiff Little Fingers, Buzzcocks, Joy Division and Toy Dolls — footage of Hawk's early competitive efforts return viewers to the 1980s and since-demolished skateboard parks in Del Mar and Upland. The latter was home to a terrifying, steep-bowled pool and the training ground of the teen's top competitors. There, Hawk found a Zen-like calm during a competition. Able to hear punk-rock lyrics blaring from a nearby loudspeaker, even as he zoomed up and down, he vanquished his many critics.
We see Hawk's successful comebacks, both in his sport and in life. A final look ahead offers less clarity.
While he's still able, will Hawk get off the wheels?
Or will he risk adding to an injury litany that includes five teeth dislodged, a fractured elbow, a cracked pelvis, a broken thumb and, in his words, "dozens of concussions but only a few that were really bad where I woke up somewhere else."
The answer may lie in the film's title.
