Nicolas Cage’s character in The Surfer, known only as The Surfer, is visiting a scenic Western Australia spot called Luna Bay with his teenage son, The Kid (played by Finn Little). The Surfer’s mission is to scout out an old family property. It’s the place where TS (that’s what we’ll call him from now on) was raised in the years before he and his family moved to America—he now wants to relocate there. TS is in the midst of hasty talks with an area real estate agent to buy the place, and he’s exceedingly anxious to close the deal and begin an important new phase of his family life.
Of course we suspect, knowing Cage’s artistic tendencies the way we do from his previous work, that unplanned-for challenges are bound to pop up for TS on the way to achieving his dream.
They do. No sooner do TS and TK step out of their rental car and walk onto the beach than a surly guy in a swimsuit snarls an insult at them as he shoulders past. Something on the order of: “Fuck off. Live local, surf local.” Down at the beach shack where TS and son encounter a similarly surly character named Scally (Julian McMahon) and his mates, they hear that this beach is indeed for locals only. They’re not welcome and should leave immediately.
But TS, perhaps a believer in American exceptionalism, or maybe just plain stubborn, is intent on surfing Luna Bay no matter what. One thing leads to another. Obstacles appear and keep on appearing. They are numerous and seemingly endless.
The real estate guy has more important things to do than to help make the sale. TS’ boss back home is sending out bad news. A gang of teenage bullies, Scally’s “cult,” won’t leave the peaceful newcomers alone. Meanwhile TS’ ex-wife is on the line with problematic demands.
In the midst of this, TS’ surfboard gets stolen—he spots it hanging on Scally’s shack, but a nasty local cop refuses to do anything about it. That board isn’t yours, it’s been here for years. More things happen: TS’ car gets vandalized. He loses his shoes in the restroom and steps on broken glass in the parking lot. A larcenous barista won’t take TS’ charge card, demands that he leave his valuable watch as collateral to pay for a cup of coffee, then closes the snack bar when TS is preoccupied. There’s an angry dog that seems to hate TS, and a snake. In the meantime TS’ son The Kid has departed the scene.
The list of mishaps goes on for days and nights. The car gets stolen. TS unwisely, in his thirst, fills a dirty bottle with brown water from the restroom and gulps it down. Oh yes, and a seagull shits on him. He begins to hallucinate in the hot Australian sun. His appearance grows scruffier. We notice he’s beginning to closely resemble the homeless bum who haunts the parking lot.
Could it be that The Surfer is an allegorical tale of psychological agony? The Roadside Attractions release, directed by Lorcan Finnegan from a screenplay by fellow Irishman Thomas Martin, is a far cry from, say, filmmaker Mike Figgis’ Leaving Las Vegas (1995), for which Cage was awarded a Best Actor Academy Award.
The Surfer suffers from some basic flaws, but so too do many of the flicks in the actor’s 152-title rap sheet. The scenario treads water for the last 15 minutes of its running time, during which the character undergoes a coda of sorts to break up the monotony of his trip to the bottom.
Gone are the joyous comic-book machismo of Little Junior Brown in Kiss of Death, the low-rent bent-cop lunacy of Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans, and the ditto what-the-hell of 2023’s vampire clown show Renfield. By contrast, The Surfer is the definition of miscellaneous.
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In theaters
