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When Tony Hawk walked out onto the Oscars stage earlier this month, it was a version of him we weren’t used to seeing. The seemingly weightless, perennially suspended in mid-air skateboarder was strikingly earthbound, as he strode gingerly across the stage to present an award. Hawk had broken his femur after landing awkwardly on a ramp just a few weeks earlier, and as he told me when we spoke over Zoom recently, Oscar Sunday became just the latest overly ambitious goal in a long line of many.
“I got the call to present, and I was only a week out from my injury and I decided right then and there that that’s going to be the first day I walk,” he told me while sitting in front of a kaleidoscopic wall of skateboards. “When they made the request I only assumed they didn’t know I got hurt. I had to use my cane across the red carpet.”
It’s easy to imagine the people in Hawk’s inner circle telling him to “rest,” or “take it easy,” things us mortals might have considered given the circumstances. But as we come to learn in the new HBO Max documentary about his life and career, appropriately titled Tony Hawk: Until the Wheels Fall Off, Hawk isn’t like us mortals. Directed by Sam Jones (I Am Trying to Break Your Heart), the film uses rare footage of his gravity-defying tricks to track Hawk’s ascent from lanky teen outcast skating pools with his friends in the ‘80s, to the biggest skateboarder in the world.
But as we learn from candid interviews with Hawk and the people closest to him, his ambition, obsessiveness, and success took a huge physical and personal toll on both him and his family. It’s also made Hawk into a living legend, as evidenced by his recent Oscars invite. Here, I ask Hawk about whether or not he would do anything differently, what it’s been like to have a front-row seat to skateboarding’s evolution, and how he ended up recreating that meme.
How hard was it for you to make this documentary on an emotional level, considering all the past trauma you had to revisit?
It was a little scary at first, just because I’ve never done anything on such a personal level. But I trusted Sam and he made it comfortable, so by the end it felt like the best approach. I didn’t know all the interviews he did, so it was hard to see when it was put together, especially all the stuff about getting hurt and the injuries, and the concerns others have for me. That was hard to watch.
Did you give Sam free reign, or were you involved with developing and producing the film?
Not at all. I feel like it would be a disservice if somehow I was controlling the narrative. So it was all him, and he got all the interviews and found footage that I didn’t even know existed. He didn’t show it to me until it was finished. The only reason he showed it to me before the final cut was almost as a copy editor so I could make sure that people weren’t mislabeled, like “That’s not my son Keegan in that one shot, so can we change that?”
Watching the film, I couldn’t help but see parallels between your drive and obsessions to the other GOATS, the Michaels, Kobes, Bradys, Tigers of the world. All of your greatness comes with so much sacrifice and at such a high cost, which you talk about in the film. Do you ever look back and wish you lived a more balanced life, or would that have prevented you from attaining the heights you did?
It’s all conjecture, I don’t know. I wish I could’ve figured out my personal issues early on, and my whole lack of intimacy issues that probably stem from my parents. I wish that I was able to open that up at an earlier stage in my life. But there’s also connections I feel like I missed out on, with the camaraderie of the 80s, because it was a fun time, and the crew was amazing. The pros that were around then, and the energy of the scene was unlike anything else. I was in it, but I was a little bit detached because I was just trying to skate and I was trying to win the events. I was showing up early for practice, getting super dialed, and everyone else was having fun. The contest was basically incidental to their fun weekend.
That kind of single-mindedness is so rare. Where do you think it comes from?
I got a taste of what it feels like to create a new trick when I was really young. I was probably about 11 when I landed my first unique trick. I landed that and the idea that I made something up, that was it. I was chasing that feeling, and I have been ever since.
A big throughline of the documentary is the ebbs and flows of skating’s popularity, and how your life kind of mirrored that. Was there ever a time when you thought it might be time to get a day job?
Oh, for sure. I would say somewhere around ‘91, ‘92, ‘93, it was next to impossible to make a living skateboarding, The funny thing is that yes, my life was taking a downturn in terms of finances and relationships, but my skating was still really good, and I was still learning a lot of tricks to no audience, to no accolades. It’s not that I really cared because I loved doing it, but it was like, “What is the end goal here? Why am I creating all this stuff? I have to make a living.” So I bought a video editing system, and I started taking freelance jobs to do that. They didn’t pay very well but they paid enough for me to pay my mortgage.
And then things just took off again. Are you still kind of baffled or amazed by how huge skating has become?
Absolutely. I can’t believe how big skating has gotten. There’s part of me that’s cavalier in the sense that when I was a kid, I wondered why people didn’t appreciate skating more. I was living in it, but I also felt like it provided so much to me, and it’s so amazing and artistic and athletic and daredevil and cool, and there’s music, and “Why hasn’t anyone embraced this other than this group of misfits?” So nowadays, when I see it, I’m like, “Yeah, it’s about time you figured it out.”
One thing that’s noticeable in the doc is that skating was a predominantly white sport during its inception. Talk to me about what it’s been like to watch people from different communities and backgrounds embrace the sport, and have the sport embrace them?
I love it. I always thought skateboarding was for everyone because of its low cost of entry, no one’s judging you on your background. Eveyrones just there. Walk the walk. That’s all that matters. It’s about how you skate. And if you’re a good skater you get respect. No one cares about your race or your gender or your background or your economics. If you go to a skate park now, it is a melting pot like nothing else. It’s young, it’s old, it’s every color, every gender, and everyone is down and cheering each other on. I truly believe that there’s no other sport like that and I’m so thankful I get to live in this era to see it come to that.
That diversity is definitely reflected in the way hip hop has embraced the sport, particularly guys like Pharrell, Lil Wayne and Tyler, the Creator. Do you have relationships with any of those guys?
I’ve met a lot of the rappers that skate or dabble in skating. It’s so fun to have that connection because if you’re a hardcore skater, there’s a bond that you have or a language you speak that so you instantly know them. You’re instantly friends. Pharell credits skateboarding for so much of what he does, and his motivations, and his DIY attitude, and his success. He skated when it was still pretty underground and very few people of color were skating. He’s OG. He knew what it was like to be a misfit and an outcast. I also admire Lil Wayne. He found skateboarding, he was a total beginner. People thought it was just some marketing tool and he devoted himself to it. He put in the work and took the hits. That says it all right there. He was walking the walk. But the best rapper skater I ever saw was Hopsin.
How have you settled into your role as the elder statesman of the sport in terms of offering advice or mentoring young skaters?
I’m happy to give it. I’m not out there trying to offer help or guidance, but if anyone asks me I’m happy to help them with what I think would improve their chances, or skating, or career. I really just enjoy skating with the new generation of kids because it’s so diverse and they all have these different styles and these different types of tricks. I feel like a lot of the time I can just help with that, with a minor adjustment, like, “if you just put your foot over there.” If I’m skating with someone and I see them make the same mistake and I know I can fix it, then I’ll offer that advice unsolicited.
And they have no choice but to listen.
They can say, “shut up old man,” it’s fine with me. I won’t take offense.
I do have to ask about The Slap. Can you tell me where you were when it happened and how that all played out from your perspective as someone who was in the room?
I was just in my seat. Right above all the main people on the floor and it was just uncomfortable. It was super weird. It was really unfortunate. Poor Questlove. The biggest moment of his career, and (Will Smith) just completely overshadowed it. It was just a bummer. It was a bummer.
I also have to ask about your meeting with Wesley Snipes. How did that go down and did you tell him about the meme, was it something that he was aware of?
I saw him coming up the stairs. We were at the Governors Ball And my friends from Ghetto Gastro did the food there with Wolfgang Puck. So I was sitting there talking to them. They saw him and were like, “Wesley Snipes is coming!” And my first thought was, “Oh man, I need to get a photo with Wesley Snipes.” Obviously, I knew about the meme. I know it was 4 or 5 years ago but it still comes around every once in a while. So I approached him and I said, “Hey Wesley, there’s a thing that happened and there’s a picture of you and a gun, and the race war, and he’s like, “What are you talking about?” And then I showed him, and he’s like, “Oh New Jack!” And he said, “Let’s do it!”
Tony Hawk: Until the Wheels Fall Off is streaming now on HBO Max.