Supreme's "Cherry" - A REVIEW

Supreme is a brand which provokes strong reactions. Some people believe creator Bill Strobeck's company is one capable of liberating men's style from the flanneled, bearded "urban lumberjack" drudgery of the early 2010s. However, the brand has also begun to face accusations of selling out, particularly after gaining patronage from celebrities such as Rihanna, Odd Future and, more worryingly, Justin Bieber. Indeed, it often seems that Supreme's nine worldwide outlets now resemble little more than consumer battlegrounds between wealthy tourists and thirsty hypebeasts.

Shoppers queue for Supreme's London branch

"cherry", Supreme's first full-length skate video in its 20-year history, then, can be seen as an attempt to return to the company's roots. Supreme opened as a skate shop in Manhattan, New York City in 1994, and as Strobeck himself recently pointed out, "Supreme is still a store where people go to set up a board or get a bearing". The line-up of skateboarders featured in "cherry", however, is far more formidable than the usual shop squad, with the likes of Eric Koston, Alex Olson and Guy Mariano appearing alongside a new wave of insanely talented New York youngsters.

These young ams, namely Nakel Smith, Tyshawn Jones and Aidan Mackey, provide the video's most surprising section, in what must be the first ever Chief Keef-soundtracked part in a major skate film. The famous New York courthouse drop-off gap is handled in daring new ways, along with the usual array of handrails and ledges. Kevin Bradley, too, develops from the irritating Odd Future swag kid seen in Cliche's Bon Voyage into a sort of mini-Ishod Wair, all huge kickflips and kamikaze front crooks.

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While the almost daily technical progression of modern skateboarding means that these stunts may be bettered within a few months, Strobeck's artistic touch sees "cherry" distinguish itself the from the deluge of HD-filmed web footage through unique presentation. New York's hectic atmosphere seems to permeate throughout the film, with montages and shared sections usually preferred to strictly defined "parts" for named skaters. A wealth of lifestyle footage, ranging from interviews with models to practical jokes on crack smokers, is interspersed with the skateboarding too, often via surreal split screens. The soundtrack is similarly schizophrenic, lurching from The Cure and Raekwon to pan pipe solos.

The picture is largely shot in black and white, which recalls East Coast classics such as Dan Wolfe's Eastern Exposure 3. The video's most effective throwback, however, is the presence of Jason Dill and Anthony Van Engelen. Dill is Supreme's talisman, whether standing on street corners deriding "white people with dreadlocks", posing for fashion shoots with Chloe Sevigny, or spinning through another mind-bending manual combination. There's around three minutes of Dill footage here, and it is as captivating as ever. Van Engelen, meanwhile, remains about power and precision, with that all-time great switch 360 flip still going strong.

Dylan Reider and Bill Strobeck (photo by Jonathan Mehring)

AVE is a clear influence on his former Alien Workshop teammate Dylan Reider, who skates to INXS's 'Never Tear Us Apart' with fellow #teamgoodlooking co-captain Alex Olson. This section is low-impact skateboarding at its finest, as Olson and Reider attack New York spots with speed, style and no small amount of creativity. Forget about stair counts and appreciate the quickfire wallies and smooth smith grinds. Olson hastens his march into skateboarding folklore by fighting a man over a rail and earning membership of Snoop Dogg and A$AP Rocky's exclusive Men Who Can Pull Off Pigtails Club.

It is this mix of skateboarding excellence and aesthetic bravery with makes "cherry" so captivating. While the video has made me no more likely to spend £40 on a five-panel cap than before, Supreme's first full-length skate film is much more than an advertising ploy. It is a wonderfully disorientating celebration of urban youth, which needn't die out when you pass the age of 22. It is a vindication of style and expressionism which laughs in the face of staid conformity. Bill Strobeck might prefer it if you go shopping at Supreme after watching the video, but "cherry" has convinced me that that's not all his company cares about.

FIVE STARS