Inking Outside of the Lines: 'Hori Smoku Sailor Jerry'

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THERE ARE A LOT of great quotes in "Hori Smoku Sailor Jerry," zero of which are fit for newsprint. That pretty much sums up the ethos of the great tattoo artists of the 20th century. Ribald, crude, devil-may-care, rules-shunning brawlers who meticulously honed their craft in private — often in secret — these men (always men) behaved like brutes but worked like artists, and were always entertaining.

Erich Weiss' short documentary focuses on one, Norman Collins, who adopted the moniker "Sailor Jerry" and plied his trade in the rough-and-tumble port of Honolulu during World War II. Collins, a rabid libertarian of the nationalist bent, put aside his hatred of the Japanese only to borrow elements of the exquisitely inked and colored Japanese tattoo tradition with the clean, bold-lined playfulness of American skin art.

Along the way, he influenced, feuded with and inspired a generation of greats, many of whom provide the charming tough-guy commentary: Don Ed Hardy, Mike Malone, Zeke Owen, Lyle Tuttle, Philadelphia Eddie Funk (who is, the ending credits note, "still crazy") and Bob Roberts.

Less a straight biography of Collins than a wistful travelogue through the development of 20th-century tattooing and the rough-and-tumble times and men that drove it, "Hori Smoku" — the name is a pidgin honorific — is rather niche but wildly entertaining. Nowhere else will the curious viewer find so vivid a window into a world in which death loomed daily over the helplessly young, while they grasped with both hands all the gallows humor, resignation, bravado and lust the likes of Sailor Jerry could provide.

Photo courtesy Mike Malone Collection