'KICKS' HITS FOOTWEAR FAD

Peter Hartlaub
San Francisco Chronicle

With a story line that focuses on trendsetting athletic shoes, rappers, New York, basketball and break dancing -- in that approximate order -- the new documentary "Just for Kicks" could easily be mistaken as a niche film for young urban crowds.

That's why co-director Lisa Leone repeated a mantra as she conducted interviews with everyone from modern-day rap mogul Damon Dash to old-schoolers, including Fab 5 Freddy and Grandmaster Caz.

"I kept thinking of my mother," says Leone, a Bronx native, during a recent phone interview. "Is she going to get this? Is she going to think it's funny?"

With this year's San Francisco Black Film Festival promising the most diverse array of films in its seven years, "Just for Kicks," screening Thursday night at the Eureka Theater, is as good a place as any to start. The film was co-directed by Leone and Senegal-born Thibaut de Longeville, and produced and financed by a host of Europeans. The result is a balanced and populist look at the history of sneakers as a pop-culture creation -- from the streets of New York to the global marketing phenomenon that changed the apparel business.

The project was conceived in part by executive producer Thierry Daher, who was raised in France, spent some time in Berkeley and currently makes films in New York. Daher, now in his late 30s, had his own impressive sneaker collection as a teenager in Europe.

"I grew up in a world where being an American was the coolest thing possible, and wearing sneakers was the next-best thing," Daher says.

"Just for Kicks" picked up momentum with the addition of Leone, who grew up during the beginnings of the movement, going to high school with B-boys from the break-dancing pioneers Rock Steady Crew -- who are well represented in "Just for Kicks."

"In the late 1970s and early 1980s, those were the people I was hanging out with," Leone says. "It was like, 'When can I come by and interview you?' "

The film festival screening will be the West Coast premiere for "Just for Kicks," which first played at the Tribeca Film Festival earlier this year. Daher is seeking wider theatrical release, and the movie will air on Spike TV in November.

The documentary borders on being educational, remaining historically detailed while packing in dozens of memorably funny moments -- such as the scene in which rapper Fat Joe licks the bottom of a pair of $5,000 Air Jordans to prove that they've never been worn.

Leone and de Longeville cram as much as they can into the 65-minute film, explaining everything from the trend of wearing sneakers without shoelaces (it originated in the prisons) to collectors' obsession with keeping their sneakers clean.

"I punch a cop in the face if he step on my s -- ," one sneaker lover says.

The largest chunks of time focus on the two most explosive events in sneaker history -- the release of Run D.M.C.'s "Raising Hell" album (with the single "My Adidas") and Nike's first contract with Michael Jordan. Along with interviews with members of Run D.M.C., rap moguls Russell Simmons and Dash, and an assortment of compulsive sneaker collectors, Leone and de Longeville uncovered some amazing video -- some of which was found bagged up in the garage of a former Adidas marketing executive.

Included is some famous lost footage of Run D.M.C. casually demanding $1 million for the publicity the group gave Adidas. Later, at a concert, the Rev. Run proves his point by asking the audience to hold up its sneakers -- and nearly everyone thrusts a pair of Adidas into the air. Moved by the display, Adidas gave Run D.M.C. the contract.

The concert tapes are the sneaker-hound equivalent of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Leone says she found them while sifting through one of those bags, putting tapes into a player one at a time.

"It was like, 'No, no, no. Adidas on 'Diff'rent Strokes.' No, no," she says. "And then I got to the concert, and I just started crying."

Daher says that, as a sneaker fan, he was blown away when he saw the finished "Just for Kicks." But he really knew they had something good when he showed the film to some middle-aged women who work in the documentary department of the French production company, Canal+, that backed the film

"You can picture them -- mid-40s, French, white ladies, probably never wore a pair of sneakers themselves," Daher says. "They couldn't stop laughing. Usually, at the end of a screening people say, 'Change this, change that.' They looked at me and said, 'Thierry, don't you change anything.' "