The Surfer is one of the most unrelenting movie experiences of my life…in the best way possible, putting Nic Cage through the wringer, and the audience along with him.Â
After our cordial introductions to the story about a father (Cage) looking to buy an old family home on the Australian coast, taking his son to go swimming before Christmas, the rest of director Lorcan Finnegan and writer Thomas Martin’s film is a non-stop, claustrophobic trip.
Cage aka The Surfer encounters a local group of local surfers led by Scally — a wonderfully dreadful alpha male influencer akin to Andrew Tate — played by Julian McMahon. They violently refuse to let The Surfer touch the water, saying, “Don’t live here, don’t surf here.” They are uncaring that he grew up on this shore — turning this moment into a burning indictment of localism and the group’s fear of outsiders. Even without that political and sociological element, the film is a brutal thrill ride that pokes holes in our hero’s sanity.
To give the play-by-play of the film would ruin the potential payoff for audiences.Â
Just know that The Surfer feels very close to great improv comedy, building on the “Yes and…” concept, highlighted by one of the most ingenious uses of Chekhov’s gun.Â
Director Finnegan and his talented star pushing the envelope to see how far they can take this encounter in a single location. And It’s not a bottle episode per se. It’s a damn grenade episode.Â
You’re left just waiting for the pin to get pulled and see how much damage Cage can do on this forsaken beach.
Before the movie premiered at SXSW, I came in with some expectation that this would be another jab for Cage at The Wicker Man. It certainly shares some parallels, and Cage pulls it off without fear that he’ll become a meme in this as well, giving some of his best, zany work, toeing the line of reality with his eclectic magnetism.
And he seems to have truly helped inform his character and his ensuing trauma, building on Martin’s script and Finnegan’s direction.
After the SXSW premiere, Cage told the audience a story about how he took a prop from earlier in the movie to turn the table in a pivotal scene for some poetic justice. It wasn’t in the script, but it was a moment he felt while watching a 1950s noir film, and applied it to the sunburnt Panavision thrill ride. No one can ever question Cage’s passion for his work and here it’s not only entertaining, but a crazed adventure that helps keep reality blurred.
