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‘The Surfer’ is a gnarly psychodrama in which Nicolas Cage can’t catch a break

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A sun-kissed crime drama might seem paradoxical at first glance, but once you’re perspiring on the sand, feeling the burn in your eyes and a disquieting unease that something is amiss – with yourself, your life, and your choices – it becomes clearer why the joy seems elusive. Why aren’t you finding more pleasure here?

The Surfer”

In this film directed by Lorcan Finnegan (“Vivarium”) and penned by Thomas Martin, the tranquil beauty is underscored with an unsettling edge that even the cheerful yellow font of its title might ironically mock. Here, the fantastical collides with the absurd, a zone where the charismatic Nicolas Cage has found his professional niche. Portraying an anonymous surfer stranded on a barren parking lot, Cage gazes longingly at the ocean waves below, his gaze as parched as that of a weary cartoon coyote seeking water. You almost imagine his eyes bulging like binocular lenses in anticipation.

The story unfolds in the fictional Luna Bay coastline of Australia, a place where the main character, portrayed by Cage, alleges to have spent his childhood before relocating to California at 15. Despite his accent being unaffected, his skin matches the same shade of orange as his hair, hinting at his coastal upbringing. Now dressed in a linen suit, he’s back with his teenage son (Finn Little) just prior to Christmas, imparting some hard-earned ocean wisdom. “You either ride the waves or you get knocked down,” Cage advises his boy, offering a philosophical perspective.

The child shows no interest in him, and the local surf bullies show even less. Before Cage manages to dip his toe into the waves, he’s thrown out by a pompous group of surfers known as the Bay Boys. Despite the beach being public, Cage argues, but the leader of the Bay Boys, Scalley (played brilliantly by Julian McMahon), remains unconvinced. “Yeah, but not really,” Scalley replies nonchalantly, his laid-back demeanor turning frosty. A charismatic life coach with an imposing physique and a cheerful disposition, Scalley advocates for the power of raw male energy. However, the film smartly suggests that he was born wealthy and uses Instagram to curate his image. Costume designer Lien See Leong deserves praise for dressing McMahon in a hooded terry cloth poncho, making him resemble Jesus walking on water to surf.

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In a nutshell, “The Surfer” revolves around the character John Cage who finds himself in a predicament where he can neither leave nor act without facing repercussions from the Bay Boys. The film’s plot is loosely based on a true-life surf gang situated at Palos Verdes Peninsula, but it exaggerates the speed and performances to a point of absurdity. Every moment sees Cage’s situation deteriorating further, causing him to lose various possessions like his phone, shoes, and car. Soon, he’s left limping, ranting, and hiding near condom wrappers while individuals pursue him with flaming torches. Luna Bay has a knack for pushing people over the edge. The narrative progresses towards an eruption of fury symbolized by an impending tsunami.

Recently, Cage has been producing a string of captivating low-budget films from emerging directors, including “Pig,” “Dream Scenario,” and “The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent.” This strategy is ingenious: His celebrity status kickstarts intriguing projects, and in return, he becomes the central figure. Not every movie succeeds, but many do, especially those that hint at violence – a theme this film delivers, albeit not in the expected manner. Most of “The Surfer’s” impact is psychological; we witness Cage’s descent into madness. This film could pair nicely with Burt Lancaster’s 1968 “The Swimmer,” another mind-bending exploration of a boastful character spiraling out of control.

The self-righteous Bay Boys provoke a sense of resentment within me. Their casual ease, sunscreen on their noses, and their smug, wagging tongues only fuel this feeling. They even go so far as to tamper with the water fountain, much like General Aquillius who poisoned his enemies’ wells in ancient Rome. Their overly-large smiles are reminiscent of a dolphin circling its prey, while their malicious laughter blends seamlessly into the cackling of birds. The film seems to acknowledge that the name Bay Boys – the same as the real Californians – is an attempt at coolness, but the characters struggle to deliver it menacingly. Most disturbing, however, is the general acceptance of these guys being in charge. A ritzy woman shrugs, “It prevents them from beating the Botox out of their wives.

The core issue here is our indignation over the fact that the stunning beauty of our world has been taken over by individuals who seem to believe they are its rightful owners, treating it as their personal property. If these stakes were private, like a golf course or a gated community, we might not feel as strongly about them. Yet, Cage’s character, with his luxury car and expensive coffee habits, likely cares about such matters just as much. However, he is no sympathetic underdog; rather than helping a beggar (Nicholas Cassim) when asked, he appears to either want inclusion or to destroy it all.

We’re upset that the world’s beauty has been taken over by people who act like they own it. If these areas were privately owned, like a golf course, we might not care as much. But Cage’s character doesn’t seem to help those in need when asked, suggesting he either wants to be part of it or destroy it.

This beach holds deep personal significance for him. As a child, he would play right here. As an adult, there’s an intense longing to purchase his grandfather’s house on the cliff (and this movie has more testosterone than the Pacific Ocean itself). The shimmering ocean waves are what he feels entitled to. In dream-like scenes from the past, we discover that his family shed blood in these waters. However, the possibility of fulfilling that promise is slipping away by the minute as others with happier families and stronger physiques take his place. The sorrow depicted in this film resonates with anyone who’s struggled to return home, whether it’s a transformed neighborhood or simply the struggle to regain the comfort of a middle-class lifestyle.

In each scene, the sun and sea are prominently featured. A warm glow flickers across Nicolas Cage’s face. Scenes transition with high-angle shots of water, and the sound of waves crashing accentuates his inner turmoil. Radek Ladczuk’s cinematography showcases dramatic zooms and distorting lenses that blur the line between comfort and despair, while François Tétaz’s grandiose soundtrack, though filled with wind chimes reminiscent of Poseidon’s summoning, is captivating.

Cage remarks that the situation is escalating towards a critical moment, similar to the waves he’s referring to. Those expecting an over-the-top violent spectacle might be let down as Finnegan maintains a moral ambiguity. However, this decision adds to the film’s impact, leaving you with an uneasy feeling, much like “The Surfer” is intended to do. This unsettling sensation sticks with you long after the movie ends, just like sand clings to your shoes.

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2025-05-01 18:01

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