3.5 stars. Rating: PG, for mild dramatic intensity
By Derrick Bang
Chasing Mavericks, a sweet, earnest little film
about following your passion, appears to have been dumped into theaters, with
little fanfare, by 20th Century Fox.
That’s a shame, because it
deserves better.
Surfing movies are pretty rare to
begin with; good ones are practically nonexistent. 1978’s Big Wednesday is one of the few to take the sport seriously; other
dramas slide into the melodramatic silliness of 1991’s Point Break or 2002’s Blue
Crush. For the most part, this sub-genre remains defined by documentaries
such as Bruce Brown’s iconic The Endless
Summer — despite dating back to 1966, still one of the best — and more
recent efforts such as 2003’s Step into
Liquid and 2004’s Riding Giants.
Even as a drama, Chasing Mavericks belongs in their
company: both for its sensational cinematography and exquisite ocean footage,
and for the respectful manner in which it depicts the life of legendary surfer
Jay Moriarity, made famous by his iconic photo on the cover of the May 1995
issue of Surfer magazine.
Northern Californians will
particularly love this film, since it takes place in Santa Cruz and nearby Half
Moon Bay. Kario Salem’s screenplay — adapted from a story by Jim Meenaghan and
Brandon Hooper — takes the usual Hollywood liberties with some elements of
Moriarity’s life, but the essential elements feel authentic: most particularly
the student/mentor relationship between Moriarity and veteran coach/surfer
Frosty Hesson.
A lengthy prologue establishes
Jay as a plucky kid (Cooper Timberline) who learns to gauge wave size by timing
the seconds between swells, a skill that can’t help impressing Hesson (Gerard
Butler), who happens to live in the beachside house just next door. Jay’s home
life is scattered, to say the least: His father abandoned the family; his
mother, Kristy (Elisabeth Shue), has just as much trouble holding onto a job,
as holding herself together.
Jay naturally gravitates toward
Frosty as a father figure, a dynamic noted with gentle amusement — and definite
approval — by Brenda Hesson (Abigail Spencer), absolutely the world’s most
patient, tolerant and understanding wife. Chasing
Mavericks is an unabashed valentine to several things — Moriarity, Hesson,
surfing in general — but perhaps
most to Brenda. Spencer plays her with almost angelic wisdom and devotion, yet
somehow manages to make this woman feel authentic: no small feat.
Thanks to Jay’s boyish prodding,
Frosty introduces the kid to surfing; events then flash forward to the early
1990s, when Jay, now 15 (and played by Jonny Weston), has become a well-known
surfer ... at least among the relatively tame and predictable waves along the
Santa Cruz coast. Jay’s skill impresses some, such as the slightly older girl
on whom he’s had a longstanding crush — Leven Rambin, as Kim — and annoys
others, most notably the local bad boy (Taylor Handley, as Sonny).
Wanting to learn more — and
sensing that Frosty has been guarding some sort of secret — Jay clandestinely
hops atop his friend’s truck during an early morning drive up the California
coast, to Half Moon Bay. To Jay’s amazement, Frosty then joins three friends
for a session of surfing monster waves — dubbed mavericks — that have been
dismissed as nothing but legends down in Santa Cruz.
And yet here they are: massive,
challenging ... and beckoning.
Which scares the hell out of
Frosty, who legitimately worries that this untrained kid would kill himself,
were he to attempt such waves.
Longtime film fans will know what
comes next, as the story shifts into a familiar, Karate Kid-esque path, with Frosty schooling Jay not merely in the
necessary physical training — strength, endurance, breath control — but also in
observational skills and ocean cartography.
Not to mention the spiritual,
Zen-like nature of surfing itself. We almost expect Frosty to address his
protégé as “Grasshopper.”
Okay, sure; it’s a bit clichéd.
But here’s the thing: Butler and Weston play their relationship utterly
straight, with not even a whiff of caricature. The real-life Moriarity was
known to be unusually humble and easygoing, with a ready smile that couldn’t
help charming everybody in his orbit; Weston unerringly captures that sincere,
likable vibe.
He’s reflexively polite,
initially addressing Frosty as “sir,” until finally achieving first-name
status. In less capable hands, this would look and sound laughably retro, even
corny; indeed, the story’s young thug, Sonny, frequently makes fun of Jay’s
gentle nature. But Weston plays this role so well — and is equally well
directed by Curtis Hanson and Michael Apted (the latter stepping in toward the
end of production, when Hanson was sidelined by ill health) — that we can’t
help accepting Jay at face value.
Hanson and Apted also helm
several poignant exchanges between other characters, whether Frosty and Brenda,
or Jay and his mother. I wish we could see a bit more of Elisabeth Shue; her
portrayal of Kristy is somewhat shorthanded, with essential traits suggested by
brief, telling glimpses. And yet we get enough to become quite touched by their
more intimate moments, most particularly a breakfast conversation on Jay’s
birthday.
Rambin, as well, makes Kim just
complex enough to be compelling: the slightly older girl who, perhaps too
conscious of the high school pecking order, doesn’t wish to risk her status by
hanging out with an underclassman ... but who seems drawn to Jay nonetheless.
All this aside, any surf film
lives or dies on the basis of its wave action, and cinematographers Oliver
Euclid and Bill Pope deliver the goods. Stunt coordinator Jeffrey G. Barnett
also does a marvelous job “cheating” his two stars with doubles; it genuinely
looks as if Butler and Weston handle all the tough stuff.
Additional authenticity is
supplied by veteran surfers Greg Long, Peter Mel and Zach Wormhoudt, cast as
Frosty’s “maverick colleagues,” and Hesson himself served as film consultant.
Yes, a few details have been, ah,
“sweetened” along the way. The real-world Jay was introduced to surfing by his
father — wholly absent in this film — and only later began badgering Frosty for
additional training. Similarly, Kim and Jay didn’t meet until she was 17; their
adolescent introduction here is pure fabrication.
But that’s small stuff. In all
the important ways, Chasing Mavericks
captures the spirit and enthusiasm of a young sportsman determined to rise to
the ultimate challenge.
I hope this film finds an
audience beyond its fans in the surfing community. It’s the ideal family outing
— almost a throwback, in that respect — and that’s intended as a compliment.
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