12 O’Clock Boys profiles a notorious urban dirt bike pack in Baltimore — young guys popping wheelies and weaving through traffic at excessive speeds while evading police who are hamstrung because of laws prohibiting them from chasing the riders through city streets. Lotfy Nathan’s fascinating documentary was filmed over the course of three years and tells the story of the bike group’s activities through the eyes of young Pug, a bright kid from the Westside obsessed with the riders and willing to do anything to join their ranks. Premiering to critical acclaim at the SXSW and Hot Docs Film Festivals (where Nathan won the HBO Emerging Artist Award), 12 O’Clock Boys provides a compelling and intimate personal story of a young boy and his dangerous, thrilling dream. I sat down with director Lotfy Nathan prior the film’s theatrical and digital release.
Danny Miller: Pug is such a compelling character — did you select him as the main subject of the film right away?
Lotfy Nathan: No, I’d actually been working on the documentary for at least two years before I met him. But the minute I met Pug and his mother, Coco, I knew they were perfect subjects for the film. Pug is sort of a tough kid but he has this vulnerability that really shows on his face.
I know as a documentary filmmaker, you’re supposed to remain objective, but did you end up wanting to influence Pug’s decisions in any way? I know that even as a viewer I started to feel very parental toward him!
I know, I did, too! I was always talking to him about what I thought would sustain him in that world. I tried to tell him that his real salvation would be in trying to milk his education as best he could.
How has his life changed as a result of being in this film?
He was surprisingly unfazed by the whole thing. He came to the premiere at the SXSW Festival and he really kept his cool. He’s got a kind of natural arrogance anyway, but I was expecting more of a change in him. He’s doing well — still interested in bikes and animals, and now also girls!
I had a lot of mixed feelings watching this film. I was fascinated by these bikers, impressed with their feats and charisma and I could see how being part of this world seemed to help them so much in their lives. But at the same time, thinking as a parent, I found myself wanting to scream, “What the hell are you doing! You are endangering yourselves and everyone in your neighborhood!” Do you find that a lot of people have that kind of dual reaction?
Definitely. Even in the Q&As after the festival screenings, you could hear the conflict in people’s voices. For me, too, while filming it. I’d often see the consequences of this dangerous activity firsthand and it wasn’t pretty! The film is not intended to be promoting this world. I think audiences are intelligent enough to see that there are many subtexts to the film.
And, of course, what these guys do on their bikes is also really incredible to watch!
It’s true, it’s very seductive as well, and part of the agenda was to show that seduction through the eyes of someone that is dying to be there. So from Pug’s perspective, what these bikers are doing as a very graceful, majestic and glorious thing!
How do you think this group is generally viewed in Baltimore?
Depending on where you are in the city, the reaction is very different. Some people see them kind of see them as Robin Hood and his Merry Men, mischievous but for a good cause, but some people see them as a major nuisance, and some people even see them as terrorists.
How do you think they themselves view their activities? You can understand why they’re suspicious of authority but some of what they do really seems to be provoking the police.
A lot of the older riders would argue that it’s a very edifying thing for kids to be doing. These are kids who are never going to join the boy scouts and this provides some of the positive experiences that they would get in a group like that, but with a kind of rebellious quality to it. Look, in some of these neighborhoods you have people waving stacks of hundred dollar bills in front of kids. Sometimes the drug dealers are the only people in the neighborhood with money. They’re driving fancy cars and freely handing out cash.
I can see where it would take a lot of strength for a struggling 14-year-old not to get sucked into that.
Right. And Pug’s mother and so many others like her are fighting against that. Before I approached the group I would hear in the community that I was living in when I was in Baltimore that these kids were drug dealers or involved in things like that but it’s not true. All of these guys do their own thing, some have jobs, some don’t, but believe me, it’s totally counter-intuitive to be a drug dealer and to bring that much attention to yourself.
Pug’s mother and some of the other women in the film are pretty tough. You understand why they are watching the film, but do you ever worry that their actions will be misinterpreted when the film is shown in other communities?
Yes, I do. Coco and I talk about it. It’s easy for people to judge her, but you have to look at the bigger context. She’s really trying her best to give her kids a good, safe life, I really believe that. I wanted to honor that but I also didn’t want to be defensive. There are things we could have put in the film that would have shown her in a sweeter light but I didn’t want to do that in a patronizing way.
I had a very positive impression of her. She seems like someone who cares so deeply about her kids.
She really does. But I suppose it’s inevitable that some people are going to judge her.
(Photo by Noah Rabinowitz)
Do you find yourself feeling a little protective of Pug and his mother as the film goes out into the world?
I kind of do. Happily, I think most people seem to appreciate them. There certainly hasn’t been any sort of universal condemnation. But the film does open up a lot of conversations.
You’ve been involved with this project for so long. Was it hard to finally say, “Okay, that’s it, the film is finished!”
Yes! But I was exhausted — I really wasn’t really planning on such a long haul. I thought it was done in 2010, then 2011, then 2012! The whole thing became bigger than me, and I felt like I had to continue. But at some point you have to let it go.