Hill Street

Life hasn’t always been easy for Dublin skateboarders. As if shattered wrists and bruised shins weren’t enough of a danger, they’ve down the years had to dodge muggings from local youths, threats from Gardai and coal lumps flung by neighbourhood scallywags.
The story of the capital’s skateboarding scene is glowingly retold by JJ Rolfe , who takes as his focus Clive Rowan’s skate shop in the North inner city – a haven for young men looking for somewhere to belong.
From home-made boards and ramps to visits from Tony Hawk, Rolfe shows how this underground sport grew in popularity and power.
Still, for a documentary about rebellion and non-conformity, Hill Street plays it far too safe. The reliance on talking heads and old footage feels uninspired and occasionally dull. Interviews meander and the footage reveals its amateur nature by failing to build excitement.  
Not that a lack of wow-factor skill is Hill Street’s downfall; on the contrary, the lack of flashy stunts or impressive settings emphasise the grassroots, punkish quality of the sport.
The best scenes are of the young skateboarders’ hilariously strong-worded interactions with security men and passers-by. There’s also a reckless, anarchistic quality to the skating itself, as youthful arrogance, overly-ambitious stunts and a lack of safety gear result in horrific accidents.
An enjoyable ride, but a few more daring cinematic tricks and flips wouldn’t have gone amiss.