A 9 minute mini documentary about crazy surfers to who ply their hobby in the arctic circle in sub-freezing temps.
While I was watching this, listening to these yo-dudes bemoan getting splashed in the face with wave spray while they burn calories and get a cardio workout on their boards, I kept thinking cry me a river, pretty boy. How about your freaking camera man who is FLOATING IN THE ARCTIC WATER just to get a shot of your bad self flying by on your sponsored board? How about a little love for them?
Spend some time behind the scenes as a crew person to learn about real hardship, you world-traveling, camera mugging, Taj Burrow wanna-be pansy.
Okay, now that I’m finished watching it I’m even more annoyed (I know, I know…). Listen up, surferdude: we know you’ve been sponsored to sell us products. We know the company names that got airplay in the doc ponied up the bucks to put you on a jet to the arctic and outfit you with lots of hi-definition gear-and the talent to run it in harsh conditions, as well as do a great job in post putting together a beautiful piece. We know you’re using exposure from this film to further your lucrative career. It’s okay to do that, but don’t try to convince us that you’re in tune with the rhythm of the lava-lamp Cosmos because you can balance a board in the water. It’s a neat trick, but forming a life philosophy around that kind of skill seems pretty… ahem…. shallow.
The whole more-introspective-than-the-Dali-Lama surfer ethos is so completely played out that it’s become a giggle-worthy parody. The stereotype image of the surfer as wise and in touch with nature got instantly uncool when Keanu grabbed a board in 1991. Where ya been?
And get off my lawn.
