Further to Alf Alderson's review of Inis Films' Wave Riders, I hear that the film won the Audience Award at the Jameson Dublin International Film Festival. In doing so, the documentary on Irish surfing beat heavy competition including The Orphanage, Lars and the Real Girl and even the Oscar-winning There Will Be Blood.
That's a serious achievement. Wave Riders next shows at the Belfast Film Festival on 13 April.
To my regret I couldn't make it to the Dublin premiere of Wave Riders last Friday. But Alf Alderson was there and caught the film. Here's his review.
Dublin – they say it’s a fair city and I wouldn’t be one to disagree after an excellent weekend in the metropolis’s eclectic Trinity Capital Hotel, which I highly recommend. But, you may be asking yourself, what has this got to do with the fine sport of surfing? Well, I was there to see the world premiere of Wave Riders, a new documentary airing last Friday evening at the Jameson Dublin International Film Festival. So now it all falls into place…
Indeed, the fact that such a remark would nowadays raise few eyebrows is a natural follow on from the subject of Wave Riders, which, in a nutshell, looks at the development of surfing in Ireland from its somewhat arcane Hawaiian roots to becoming the new epicentre for big wave surfing. Those of you who know your surf history may know much of what Wave Riders has to tell the viewer, starting with the story of Hawaiian/Irish George Freeth, an outstanding waterman of the early 20th century who introduced surfing to the American public and thence to the rest of the world.
Have you ever watched a film that has nothing to do with surfing, spotted a line-up in the background and found yourself immersed in wondering where exactly it's been filmed, because you're pretty sure that there's good surf to be had on location? Here are five films that, for me, resonate for reasons beyond their plotlines:
1. Apocalypse Now. OK, an obvious one. Charlie may not surf but Lt Col William Kilgore sure does, courtesy of California surfer John Milius' screenplay. The surf scenes perhaps suggest, by way of counterpoint, that Napalm is not the way forward.
2. Barton Fink. What is the image observed throughout by the fumbling young writer? It is, of course, the Woman on the Beach, whose face, I seem to recall, is never seen. There is a symbolism to this, but every time I try to work it out I look at what the unseeable woman is looking at. It is a perfect right-hander.
3. From Here to Eternity. Filmed on location at Diamond Head and Waikkiki Beach, Oahu, among others. Enough said.
4. Ryan's Daughter. A David Lean classic made all the richer for the Dingle Peninsula backdrop.
And, last but by no means least:
5. Get Carter. This unremittingly bleak film is one of my favourites, to my wife's bewilderment. I like the jazzy intro, I like the Michael Caine character, I love the cars and the dialogue. But right at the end, when it all seems maybe just a touch too nihilistic, I love looking at the sea in the final scene and saying to myself (of the north-east of England and what is, I am reliably informed, a secret spot): "I bet, on the right day, there's surf there."
See www.getcartertour.co.uk if you are similarly inclined...
Who is the best surfer ever to have emerged from Watford? There are many who would say that there's no contest: it has to be Rodney Sumpter, born there on 27 May 1947, and, despite such an unprepossessing start (if surfing's your thing), a man who went on to be an Australian, United States, British and European surfing champion. There is more to this than meets the eye, for Sumpter did not hone his smooth and elegant style in the streets of Watford but on Avalon Beach, near Sydney. His parents emigrated to Australia just before Sumpter was five, but absence only made the heart grow fonder. Sumpter, a surfing prodigy down under, yearned to see his country of birth, and returned to the UK when he was 16. Almost at once he was blowing minds when he took to the water, and in 1965 he cemented his reputation as the UK's best surfer with a win at the first British championships in Jersey, in 1965. Then began a lifetime of surfing and travel, the early years of which are captured in Sumpter's beguiling film Come Surf With Me.
