Surf Film Fiesta
Surf
Film Fiesta
by
Sam Bleakley
This October marks the 5th annual London Surf / Film Festival, founded by Demi Taylor and Chris Nelson, filled with films,
premiers, talks, music, Q+A’s, workshops, and undoubtedly the biggest and
best celebration of contemporary surf culture in Britain. The influence of
surf films cannot be understated. Ask any British surfer from any generation
and they will surely agree. My dad, Alan ‘Fuz’ Bleakley, remembers Paul
Witzig’s 1969 film Evolution defining
the opening phase of the shortboard revolution, capturing the spirit of the
times and showcasing the seventeen-year-old-sensation from Victoria, Wayne
Lynch, the first surfer to really bank off the crest and hit the lip. In the
same year George Greenough took the viewer deeply and hypnotically inside the
tube with groundbreaking water photography throughout The Innermost Limits of Pure Fun.
In Britain, the surf film industry was
pioneered by Rod Sumpter. Watford born Sumpter was Britain’s first surfing
superstar. Practically a World Junior Champion by 1964, Rod moved to Newquay
two years later and won the British and European titles, bringing a never
before seen level of professionalism to British surfing. While Bobby Moore
lifted the ’66 World Cup to mini skirts and a youth awakening, Sumpter styled
to the finals at the World Surfing Games in San Diego on his Bilbo signature model with a Union Jack
pigmented across the deck. He flushed our surfing shores with national pride
and a belief that maybe one day we could create a World Champion.
The Sumpter family were part of a wave of
emigrants swept abroad in 1952 on the so-called ‘Assisted Passage’ or ‘Ten quid
ticket’ to Australia, escaping the post-war gloom of Northern Europe to begin a
fresh life down under. Despite their London roots, they instantly gelled with
the beach lifestyle, based at Avalon, on Sydney’s northern peninsula, then an
outpost of fishing cottages, cheap housing and surfers.
By 1962 Rod had become a national stand-out,
and that same summer it was four Avalon Surf Life Saving Club members (Bob Head,
John Campbell, Warren Mitchell and Ian Tiley) who paraded surfing throughout
Cornwall whilst working the lifeguard season. Rod’s loose lanky style was
almost identical to future World Champion Nat Young, two years Rod’s senior,
and the pair funded trips up and down the coast during their youth by selling
stolen doorstep milk. Rod evolved a flowing, refined elegance, mimicking his
great hero Midget Farrelly, which crowned him with an Australian National
Junior Title in 1963 and a US Open Junior Title in 1964.
When Californian Bruce Brown commissioned
Sydney based Paul Witzig to shoot the Australia footage for an upcoming movie
tagged The Endless Summer, Witzig
signed up Nat and Rod, two of Australia’s most talented youngsters, for a safari to the West Coast, showcasing their silky footwork and that vintage line, “You
should have been here yesterday.” The Endless Summer later became a global
hit, the first surf film to inspire audiences beyond the coastal enclaves of
burgeoning surf culture. Rod was inspired by Witzig, became fascinated with
filmmaking, figured it could take him to some interesting places, and quickly
formed a relationship with Bruce Brown via Witzig.
In 1964 California was at the forefront of
a surfing boom. Perching on that tip in timeless posture and radiating cool,
Ala Moana export David Nuuhiwa and Malibu’s duo, Mickey ‘Da Cat’ Dora and Lance
‘no pants’ Carson, had made noseriding a high art form. Boards were purpose
built just for hanging ten. Every surfer wanted to 'Shoot the Curl' and
it was all backed by an increasingly lucrative industry of movies, music,
board-builders such as Velzy, Weber, Jacobs and Hobie,
garments from Hang Ten and Katin, and a high profile contest
circuit.
Sixteen-year-old Sumpter was eager to check
out the Golden State. He pestered Bruce Brown, based in Carmel, to come and
assist with some filming. Rod spent most of the summer of 1964 at Brown’s house
where he met the flamboyant goofy footer Corky Carroll. The same age as Sumpter
with a similar attitude, Corky was bursting onto the contest scene and picking
up all the junior (and soon Open) trophies. A master of the media and a
dedicated competitor, Corky became one of the sport’s pioneering professionals.
He was sponsored by Jantzen sportswear,
the first mainstream business to see the viability of the surf image. Jantzen bought the back page of Surfer magazine, running advertisements
which Corky, Ricky Grigg and Rod appeared in up to 1968.
Great Britain had changed dramatically
since the Sumpters’ left in the early 1950s. The reaction to the austerity of
the post war years was a social revolution - increased spending, freethinking
and free love. Mary Quant was forever raising the hemlines of her skirts and a
more affluent generation flowered into colourful sub cultures. Flying across
the Atlantic, on a mission to the fabled left hand river mouth at La Barre in
France, Rod saw pristine lines wrapping around a crystal clear day in Jersey.
Eager to explore the potential, and curious to check out his British roots, he
had heard from Gordon Burgis that there was an International event sponsored by
the cigarette company Players Gold Leaf
at St Ouen’s.
Rod embraced the nascent British surf
culture. Like Midget Farrelly and Nat Young, Sumpter seemed glued to the board.
His balance was immaculate and he easily won the prestigious Channel Islands
event, spent the summer checking out Cornwall and France, and was knocked out
by the environment in the southwest. Within a year he decided to come back and repeat his
victory to win Jersey’s inaugural British Championships and take up full
residency in Cornwall in 1966.
Once in Cornwall, Rod fell madly in love
with Simonne Renvoize, whose father, Jimmy, owned a photographic shop in
Newquay. They both decided to start filming on clean clear days throughout
Britain and Europe with a super-eight mm camera, editing the footage into Come Surf With Me (1967). Marketing the
film to the tourists at the beach and in the pubs with fliers and posters they
would pack out cheap church halls rented throughout Cornwall and Devon.
Simonne’s bright personality, classic
English good looks and gregarious nature was a crucial stabilising force in
Rod’s life. She had a strong business head with the eye to market things in a
uniquely British way. She was also talented behind the lens, filming most of
the footage of Rod surfing. St Ives surfer Charles Williams recalls the
exhilaration of seeing, “big beautiful La Barre, France, on screen, looking so
idyllic and pristine: warm water, no wetsuits. We just all wanted to get
travelling.” The influence was profound. Not only was Sumpter pointing the
camera at British shores, which was a great boost to self-esteem, but he was
also driving around the country taking the surf films to all these different
places and surfing there. The country got to see the footage, and meet the most
potent surfer in Britain.
While many remember Rod Sumpter’s footage
for the famous Old Spice TV advert, he created seven films between 1967 and
’79, logging his incredibly widespread travels, the growing national scene and
the shortboard revolution. The early movies, including With Surfing in Mind (1968) – a brilliant title - and Freeform (1970) were in the
happy-go-lucky ethos of sun drenched Californian Bruce and Bud Brown flicks.
But Oceans (1971) and Reflections (1973) were pretty far-out
with religious imagery and a psychedelic feel, much in the flavour of John
Severson’s Pacific Vibrations (1970).
Many people thought Rod had undergone a religious conversion. Certainly they
were highly personal and much under-rated films.
White Waves (1979) and Hawaiian Surfari (1979) became B-movies
on the conventional British cinema circuit and Rod’s footage of the young tube
riding specialist, Rory ‘The Dog’ Russell, at Pipeline appeared as a sequence
in Alan Rich’s epic Salt Water Wine
(1973), and as the fabled footage for the Old Spice advert, still being shown
on television backwaters around the globe today. Rod maintained his link with TV and his excellent technical talent
served him well in a highly successful career as a freelance cameraman,
primarily for the BBC, throughout the 1980s.
Rod’s brother David was born in Essex in
1943, but moved to Australia with the family in 1952. He was christened ‘The
Mexican’ (aka The Mex) after Australian east coast surfer friends found him
asleep between sessions wearing a huge sombrero to protect from the scorching
sun. In 1966 The Mex returned to Britain and ran the summer deck chair
franchise and lifeguarded at Watergate Bay. Then he worked the Scottish ski
season as an instructor. In 1968 he returned to Australia and Mrs Sumpter
persuaded Rod to send his brother a couple of prints of his first surf movie to
organise showings. With Surfing in Mind
was actually a re-cut of Come Surf with
Me. To the Australian audience its only appeal was the novelty sequence of
Rod surfing the Severn Bore, shot by Simonne. Mex failed to fill surf clubs and
church halls, until the last weekend of 1969 when he promoted the film with an
amplifier and loud hailer around Surfers Paradise. “Roll up, roll up…see the
world’s greatest surfers risk death to ride huge waves in defiance of the laws
of nature.” He filled the house, made profit and discovered a new skill.
Mex showed Freeform, then in 1973 he got funding from the Australian Film
Development Corporation and bought a second hand Bolex camera. He shot in Bali,
Australia and New Zealand and at Australia’s two new pro meets – the Rip Curl Bells Classic and the Coca Cola Surfabout in Sydney. He made On Any Morning in 1974, which was shown
at the Sydney Opera House. Fuz Bleakley, living at Whale Beach, Sydney, at the
time, did the artwork for the poster. The Mex was already known as a larger
than life character with an ability to tell side splittingly funny stories.
People loved him immediately. On Any
Morning was cheap, simple, but good-natured and the Australian audience
loved it. Today The Mex lives in Bryan Bay, trading and selling surf
memorabilia.
Paul Holmes, Fuz Bleakley and Simonne
Renvoize (who had by now split up with Sumpter and married Paul) started Surf Insight in 1970. Like Tracks in Australia, it was in newspaper
format and was cutting edge - the counterculture alternate to the persona of Surfer and International Surfing – focusing more on the holistic surfing
lifestyle, from contemporary environmental issues to deep probing interviews with
all the top British surfers. Styled on the Rolling
Stone music rag, it had photo’s, cartoons and well-written articles ranging
from cosmic to hilarious. Flicking through it today it stands the test of time,
in content, although production-wise it is certainly a product of its time –
badly printed and low-tech. As Paul explains, “Surf Insight was ahead of its time, but there really wasn’t enough
advertising support to make a surf magazine viable in the UK back then, so we
had to stop after four issues.” Surf
Insight was not afraid to confront political and social issues. It had an
environmental page fought for keeping beaches open to surfing, and even turned
on its own culture, to point out hypocrisy within the British Surfing Association.
Through Rodney’s contacts with filmmakers,
Simonne, Paul and Fuz also showed the latest surf films through Aquagem Surf Flicks. These included Hal
Jepsen classics Cosmic Children (1970)
and Sea for Yourself (1973). Alan
Rich’s Saltwater Wine (1973) was
another hit. The impact of these films helped to educate British surfers in an
era when cheap travel just wasn’t available. “You wouldn’t believe the level of
‘stoke’ at these showings,” said Fuz. “People would hoot, gasp and applaud at
every move.” On Saturday night they would be watching Rory Russell at twelve
feet Pipeline, and would be so fired up they’d rush out to surf two feet slop
at any beach early the next day and have a brilliant session.
While Simonne Renvoize did not surf, she
had a long affair with surfing and the ocean, and her networking talents
brought together the most unlikely combinations. Her greatest coup was to
persuade George Greenough to show his films, Crystal Voyager (1973) and The
Inner Most Limits of Pure Fun (1969). Aqua
Gem took Greenough’s brilliance to the Electric Cinema in Porobello Road in
London, where they had packed audiences. Greenough himself had persuaded the
Pink Floyd to allow the use of their music on the in-the-tube sequences from Innermost Limits. It was a sensation.
Greenough had strapped a camera to himself and shot the first genuine in the
tube footage, with Floyds “echoes” providing the perfect backdrop, and Simonne
managed to get it all happening at the London epicentre of the swinging ‘60s
revolution.
In 1969 Penzance surfer John Adams and
Australian Dave ‘Stickman’ O’Donnall also started showing surf films. While
Adams’ venue, the Winter Gardens, was headlining the best contemporary music,
including The Who and Fleetwood Mac, surf film showings became the social pinnacle
of the local surf culture. ‘The Wince’ was the Santa Monica of Cornwall drawing
huge audiences. (The Santa Monica Civic Auditorium was California’s premier
surf movie venue throughout the 1960s and 1970s). “It was a great set up. We
had beer and food and there was a really good vibe,” says John, who soon
developed a passion for making his own films. In 1975 he showed Tubular Swells by Dick Hoole and Jack
McCoy. By 1979 he had formed a film company - ThreeSFilms. John made seven films up to 1992, and ThreeSFilms became a primary distributor
of surfing DVDs in Britain. Taking Off
in 1981 is a classic, following the groundbreaking launch of Nigel Semmens,
Steve Daniel and Ted Deerhurst’s pro careers.
Tigger Newling was another British surfer
who followed Sumpter’s passion for filmmaking. “The first camera I operated was
Rod's 16 mm Bolex, wrapped in a plastic bag, to get water shots of him at
Guethary in 1968,” said Tigger. “I really admired Rod's 'just do it' attitude
to filmmaking, and regret not being farsighted enough to talk my way into more
of an apprenticeship with him on his surf movies.” Over a decade later,
studying Anthropolgy at the University of Sydney, Tigger began shooting culture
based films, first sailing through the Louisiade Archipelago (between Papua New
Guinea and the Solomon Islands), then walking through the Highlands of Papua
New Guinea. This progressed to Tigger’s first full length film, Thriller in Manila, a documentary about
hand painted cinema posters that tower above the streets in many Asian cities.
“I found the painters and filmed them creating the huge canvases in their
studios, added a cool soundtrack and it got quite a bit of exposure around the
world at film festivals.”
Tigger then developed his own business, Screenland Film and Video Production,
formed in 1993. “We did all kinds of projects from TV, commercials, music
videos and film. It’s a medium that fascinates me as a viewer. I love to
analyse films, which is the first step to making them. Making films can be very
simple or unbelievably complex and demanding.” Screenland landed a huge job editing work for the 2000 Sydney
Olympics, broadcast to millions. But not surprisingly, Tigger’s forte is water
footage. He has worked extensively with close friend Tom Carroll cutting together
surf footage.
Unfortunately the touring surf film has had
its heyday. In 1990 Surfers the Movie
and Rolling Thunder were a last gasp
in Britain. The neon generation of surfers had turned their backs on rollicking
nights of debauchery at surf flicks because they could rent or buy a VHS video,
and then a DVD, and stay at home. But Cornwall got a big bite of the British
film industry when Carl Prechezer filmed Blue
Juice in 1995. Former British Junior Champion, and current surf judge,
Jamie Owen did the surfing sequences, doubling as lead character JC, in the
Canary Islands. But most of the film was shot in Mousehole, Newlyn, Gwithian
and St Ives, and at some level or other involved many west Cornish surfers of
the time: Hayle’s Chris Ryan played the silver surfer in the party scene, with
his aluminium board, while Essex Tyler had a few lines as a local ripper, and
Steve Jamieson played the lifeguard. The main crowd puller, however, was Welsh
sensation, Catherine Zeta Jones.
For surfers around the globe, surf film performances
continued to inspire. Radical, low-carving Hawaiian Bertlemann had inspired a
new, progressive Californian skateboarding style in the mid 1970s, termed
‘Dogtown’ for its spawning-ground near the derelict neighbourhoods of Venice
Beach. Nearly a decade later, skateboarder Rodney Mullen from Florida perfected
the flat-ground ‘ollie’ by flicking into the air. Californian surfers took this
scalding skateboard manoeuvre into the water. The outcome was the aerial, soon
at the cutting edge of surfing. British-born Martin ‘Pottz’ Potter and
Californians Christian Fletcher and Matt Archibold launched their careers by
perfecting their aerial repertoires. Pottz pushed the limits with raw power,
deep carves and startling, rail-burying turns.
His airborne
cover shot on Surfing magazine in
1984, and the abilities of Tom Curren, Tom Carroll and Mark Occhilupo, would
inspire the Momentum generation of
the 1990s.
Taylor Steele’s Momentum
videos showcased a group of Americans spearheaded by Kelly Slater, Rob Machado
and Shane Dorian, eclipsing the power surfers who went before them with
previously unseen acrobatics to a high-octane California-punk soundtrack. In
many ways, the longboard renaissance, involving younger surfers, acted as a
backlash to the Momentum movement,
which was all about in-your-face surfing. Californian Joel Tudor hit the scene
when the typical longboarder was regarded as a throwback. Once caught on
celluloid with a new flashy style in On
Safari To Stay (1991) riding nine footers in California and Mexico, the
longboard bomb for the surfing youth was ignited. Surfing’s retro revival was
already rolling, but Tudor certainly made it more cool. On Surfari to Stay also featured Robert ‘Wingnut’ Weaver (who would
later star in Endless Summer II in
1994).
On Surfari to Stay did not feature
amazing conditions, but amazing surfers doing impossible things on average
waves. I devoured every frame and felt that if I studied the moves, I could
learn to do them. On Safari To Stay
induced a new kind of stoke, combining nostalgia with radical longboarding. It
even featured the old salts: 1960s stars Skip Frye and Donald Takayama were
reborn. New generation Wingnut was like a remodelled Phil Edwards - clean-cut,
but pushing longboards to new limits, all the while making it look effortless.
Tudor had a similar flowing style, but a touch of punk – taking it to the edge
and a little bit further. What I did not see then, but appreciate now, are the
subtleties of his poise, and the way that he works the rails as well as tail
and tip. Tudor was a bridge between the past and future. He became the ultimate
postmodern surfer – the radical tradionalist – going backwards to go forwards.
In 1996, a new film by J Brother called Adrift captured Joel’s aesthetic to a
jazz soundtrack where the noseriding was the pinnacle of performance. And by
1999 Thomas Campbell’s film The Seedling
showcased a wider group of young Australian and Californian longboarders
performing new feats of noseriding. The movie was shot on 16mm, stylishly
edited, and showcased girls as much as guys. The surfing was orientated around
footwork, flow and style, not power, speed and torque. It all had a big impact
on surfers all over the world, and formed a whole new market, simply branded as
‘retro’ by some surfing companies who failed to see that ‘retro’ was a mark of
progress for a hip circle of aficionados who surfed blue notes and wore their
jazz on their sleeves, improvising on wave faces.
Over
all in the late 1990s there was a revival of independent surf films by the likes
of Andrew Kidman, the Malloy brothers, Jack Johnson and Jason Baffa shot on
16mm cameras with excellent indy music. Self funded, these films inspired a
resurgence of the screening tour, and the ultimate rise of the international
surf film festival, from Tyler Breuer’s New York Surf Film
Festival to Demi Taylor and Chris Nelson’s London Surf Film Festival. Aside from
fostering stoke and inspiring a new generation of surfers and creatives, these
festivals help raise the profile of filmmakers, many of whom have dedicated
three years into a single project, injecting more and more into the rich
tapestry of surf films. If you’ve read thus far, you’ll certainly have your
favourite surf films lodged in your mind. Here are some of my old favourites:
