Sound of the Surf: When California was Fun

It is the only rock & roll subgenre that has largely been instrumental. Yet, ironically, its most popular artists are considered phonies by the real fans, because of their vocal harmonies. They would be the Beach Boys. Surf musicians might have played for beach bums, but virtuoso guitar work was always part of package. The original Surf music pioneers look back on Surf culture’s early 1960s heyday in director-cinematographer Thomas Duncan’s documentary, Sound of the Surf, which releases today on VOD and DVD.

Its closest cousins were garage rock and punk rock, but the founding Surf music musicians had two major influences. Not surprisingly, 1950s instrumental rock guitarists like Duane Eddy and Link Wray were significant musical role models. However, most of the Surf music veterans have more to say about jazz artists, especially big band drummer Gene Krupa.

In fact, jazz musician Tom Morey, who also invented the Morey bogie board, expressly compares jazz and surfing, because both require improvisation. Alas, nobody discusses Bud Shank by name, but his soundtracks for Bruce Brown’s surfing documentaries are duly acknowledged. Regardless, jazz collectively gets its full due.

Dick Dale claims the title as the original Surf music guitarist for himself and pretty much everyone Duncan interviewed agrees with him. Indeed, Dale had some of the biggest Surf hits, including his reverb heavy arrangement of “Misirlou,” which became popular again thanks to Pulp Fiction. Eddie Bertrand, co-founder of the Belairs and Eddie & the Showmen represents a not-so-distant second.

Yet, one of the more prominent voices turns out to be Kathy Marshall, who gets her overdue credit for her contributions to the Surf music scene. Technically, she never recorded commercially, but she performed regularly with Eddie & the Showmen and the Blazers, even though she was still a teenager. Plus, viewers also hear from Kathy Kohner-Zuckerman, a.k.a. the real “Gidget,” whose father wrote the novel the film and TV series were based on, building on her accounts of her new surfer friends.

The Greatest Surf Movie in the Universe . . . but, not really

This could be anti-vaxxer RFK Jr.’s favorite new surfing movie, but that’s not a compliment. It starts with the premise that the next big pandemic was treated with a vaccine that erased all memory of surfing, as a strange, undetected side effect. Of course, that rather perturbs the “Surf God,” so he enlists champion Australian surfer Mick Fanning to re-awaken the surfing memories of five fellow former surfing greats, to make a surfing film that will make the whole world re-embrace the sport. At least that is how the narrator, Luke Hemsworth playing his future, post-pandemic self explains it in Vaughan Blakey & Nick Pollet’s The Greatest Surf Movie in the Universe, which opens today in theaters.

When the Surf God gives Fanning his marching orders, he references many previous surfing movies, but bizarrely overlooks Bruce Brown’s classic documentaries—The Endless Summer is probably the best known, but Barefoot Adventure has a terrific Bud Shank soundtrack. This film could have used some Bud shank music, but it really just needs help in general.

In an agonizingly slow process, Fanning recruits real-life surfers Mason Ho, Griffin Colapinto, Craig Anderson, Jack Freestone, and Matt Wilkinson, playing goofy stop-motion animated versions of themselves, giving them each the same repetitive pitch. Each time he reawakens their surfing memories, we are treated to a highlight reel of their greatest wave-riding hits. Unfortunately, a lot of this footage loses its novelty for viewers who just spent two weeks watching Olympic surfing.

This hardly needs to be said, but Blakey and Pollet are no Matt Stone and Trey Parker. Greatest Surf Movie does not compare well to Team America World Police or any other rude animated film for adults. Despite constantly taking the low, scatological road, they rarely get laughs. Instead, the attempts at gross-out humor inspire embarrassment and sometimes pity.

NYAFF ’16: Apocalypse Child

It is sort of a cross between the existential Japanese Sun Tribe films and the American Independent beach party movies, but it couldn’t exist without the apex of Hollywood 1970s auteurism. According to legend, after finishing the famous surfing sequence, the crew of Apocalypse Now left behind a few surfboards, inadvertently seeding a local surfing scene in Baler. According to family legend, Francis Ford Coppola did something similar with Ford’s mother. The moody surf instructor does not like to talk about it, but the rumors still dog him in Mario Cornejo’s Apocalypse Child (trailer here), which screens during the 2016 New York Asian Film Festival.

Ford has been getting pretty serious with Fiona, a formerly troubled runaway, as even his free-spirited, permissive mother Chona notices. Unfortunately, just when things start to get real, his well-heeled childhood friend Rich makes his triumphant homecoming as Baler’s young new Congressman, with Selena, a beautiful fiancée in tow. Ford has plenty of reasons to resent Rich and perhaps vice versa, but the incredibly attractive foursome starts partying together, to keep up appearances. Periodically, they become a quintet whenever Chona brings over weed. However, all the time Ford and Selena are spending together for her surfing lessons is bound to lead to jealousy and temptation. There is actually some surfing too.

Regardless of its cinematic merits, Apocalypse certainly makes Baler look like a veritable paradise on earth. Apparently, you can surf and sun all day and then eat roast pig in the evening. It sounds great, even if there is a district mandate requiring neurotic co-dependent relationships.

Essentially, Apocalypse is part angsty indie drama and part sun-drenched guilty pleasure. Most of us probably prefer the latter (its summertime, after all), even though the five principles are all pretty good. In fact, Annicka Dolonius (also quite impressive in What Isn’t There) plays the more-vulnerable-than-she-wants-to-let-on Fiona with exquisite subtlety. Sid Lucero can definitely surf and brood, so he has Ford buttoned-down well enough. Gwen Zamora is a luminous presence as Selena, but it is hard to believe an up-and-coming politician would get involved with someone with her back story. Frankly, RK Bagatsing’s Rich is problematically whiny, while Ana Abad-Santos probably wins cheap audience points with her Susan Sarandonish portrayal of Chona.

Even what things get messy and awkward, Apocalypse always sparkles thanks to cinematographer Ike Avellana’s bright, inviting lensing. It is the sort of film that works just enough to keep viewers invested and potentially inspire repeat home viewings. This is one you will want to take to your shore house when it comes out on DVD. Recommended for what it is, Apocalypse Child screens Thursday (6/23) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

Tribeca '10: Keep Surfing

Nestled in the heart of Munich you will find the oddest sub-sub-culture of the surf sub-culture. There urban surfers find their waves on the Eisbach (“Ice-Brook”) River rather than trekking to traditional ocean surf Meccas. Evidently, the German city is indeed the surfing capitol of the world for river rats, according to Björn Richie Lob’s documentary Keep Surfing (trailer here), which screens during this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.

For years, a group of dedicated German and expatriate surfers have dazzled surprised onlookers by riding the waves of Munich’s rivers, especially when the spirit moves them to surf naked. When they do travel, it is not to pedestrian oceans, but to even more demanding rivers.

That is essentially the gist of Keep. We are repeatedly told in rather uninformative interview segments that rivers also have waves, which quickly gets repetitive. Fortunately, the film also profusely illustrates the point with some remarkably vivid video footage originally shot by Lob and co-cinematographer Lars Liebold, on a variety of formats. The visual clarity of these scenes is truly quite stunning. Every move the surfers make are clearly distinct, yet the sequences have an up-close immediacy that is thoroughly impressive. From a technical standpoint, Lob dramatically ups the ante for surfing films, far surpassing the cult classics of Bruce Brown (whose early films are still worth checking out for the Bud Shank jazz soundtracks).

Unfortunately, there is not much more to Keep than its admittedly striking river surfing scenes. We never really get much of a sense of the Eisbach surfers and there is no story arc to speak of. It is what it is: river surfing occasionally interrupted by rather forgettable talking head sequences.

If nothing else, Keep certainly has a lack of pretense. Those who are passionate about the sport will probably be enthralled by Lob's film. However, audiences hoping for greater context and insight might be somewhat disappointed by Keep. It screens during the 2010 Tribeca Film Festival on Monday (4/26), Wednesday (3/28), Friday (4/30), and Saturday (5/1).