Modern Love

The entire cast of Modern Collective comes out to Hollywood for the World Premiere

It began at the Roosevelt Hotel. It would also end at the Roosevelt. But we're not there yet. We're in Hollywood. With Mitch Coleborn and the Volcom army. Twenty party bus-charged surfers walking into the swank lobby of the hotel. We're waiting to be seated for dinner before the big show. The one we've been waiting for. The Hollywood premiere of Modern Collective. The one with all the stars.

Everyone's in town. Dane. Jordy. Yadin. Mitch. Dion. And Kai. (All except Dusty, who couldn't make it because of a contest.) We run into Dion Agius in the lobby. Paul Fisher. A gaggle of other shredders. Gabe Kling. Benny B. Craig Anderson. We soon learn we're not alone. We've timed this showing with the AFI (American Film Institute) Film Fest. It's going on at the same hotel. People are staring. Only we're staring back, because most of them are beautiful movie stars. We drink. Toast. Volcom's team leader Mike Guarino gives a lovely cheers to Mitch and his year. Probably because we know exactly who the f—k Mitch Coleborn is now. And we decided we're fans. Volcom has brought us here to this lovely dinner — where the menus (I kid you not), read: For Mitch: We love you — YOU BITCH! We eat. Toast. And enjoy the fruits of everyone's labor and for the general joy of everyone at the table.

Jordy Smith strolls into the lobby, commanding attention. He's wearing a royal blue leather jacket. A sweatshirt hood sticking out the back. "I've got a guy at home who makes these for me," Jordy says after taking a shot with Craig Anderson. "I've got every color. You can pick the color, the leather feel, the style. It's sick, bru." Jordy is awesome.

From there we take to the street. Hollywood Blvd. We walk upon the stars of Hollywood. Burt Reynolds. Ed McMahon. Dolly Parton. Stars of the past. Jordy trudges over them. We're a parade en route to the venue at Le Deux.

Upon arrival we are met with a pair of custom, white Skullcandy headphones and a pager-sized receiver. This is interesting. The vodka is free and the music is good. Dane and Courtney are here. Courtney is already dancing. We love her. Everyone begins to grease the hinges. Then the music stops. A countdown begins. Five minutes. The Skullcandy's go on and all 350 people in attendance peer at the screen hanging from the quaint and cozy atrium's ceiling.

It's the final time anyone in attendance sees surfing the same way.

The headphones pulsate. People are nodding to the beats. Mesmerized. All 350 people transfixed on the screen. If you remove the headphones, you're in dead air. Silence. On screen Kai has pieced together surfing celluloid like never before. Using his soon-to-be-patented-and-emulated Kai Neville style — very Guy Ritchie in Snatch and Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. The edits are fast and choppy, but they tell a story. Short and to the point. Stories we don't normally see, too. Travel. Parties. Dancing. And the Dane shot we talked about before — the one that defines his surf celebrity. And then there's the surfing. So much of it it's tough to digest at first. Onshore=Offshore. All set to an electro-laden mood cruise.

No surfer has his own part. It's all very refreshing. The highlight would have to be the Modern Blood old sea session featuring Craig Anderson, Jordy Smith and Mitch Coleborn. It's a windblown right. Not even a wave by most standards. But what is accomplished on that crummy onshore air bowl will give you anxiety. Good anxiety. The kind that comes with one too many at dinner with a flirty-eyed blonde.

And then it ends. Credits roll and you catch your breath, wanting it to be taken away again. Dane's girl Courtney starts moving and instigates what will become the dance floor. At some point Mitch makes it back to the Roosevelt and the movie stars are staring again. Only this time because he's the star.

My, what fun we've had.

[Be sure to get out and see Modern Collective on the big screen when it comes to your town. And start a dance party while you're there.]

Ben Bourgeois with a tell-tale empty glass

Faces of the industry: Hurley's Brandon Guilmette, 'stached and styling.

Faces of the industry: Brandy Faber plays hard to get.

Faces of the Industry: Brian Robbins, with matching hat and hand gesture. Ha-waiian!

Getting in the door at Les Deux was almost as much fun as the party itself. That's a SURFING intern on the far left.

Patented Steve Sherman moment: Dane and his Courtney.

A portrait of the indie generation. Dane again, and half of Dion.

Fine, fine, but start the movie already.

Logos, and the man who gives them their power. Dane in denim.

Dion has made the knit cap his signature. Necklace and bracelets top it all off. Would you guess he can throw fins around?

Faces of the industry: Volcom's Brad Dougherty in a choke hold from SURFING's sales varsity: Tony Perez, Brian Ellis and Jai Townend.

It wouldn't be a party without Paul Fisher. Or, it wouldn't be a raunchy and obscene party without him.

Are you Matt Hoy? Fisher making faces.

Gabe Kling with a goofy smile, ready to see some ripping.

Faces of the industry: Globe's Joe G + Stella

Hagan Kelly with a couple of art geeks – the infamous Sfumato.

Pay attention, class.

The movie plays, and all conversations immediately stop. Modern Collective controls the crowd.

SURFING's Jai Townend toasts the film.

Jordy looking shaggy, as Fisher asks what's sure to be a ridiculous question.

Leather is for movie stars. Jordy Smith, looking the part.

Gabe Kling, Jason Weatherley and Ben Bourgeois

Kai Neville navigates the red carpet maelstrom like a seasoned Hollywooder.

Fish puts his mic in Kai's face and says dirty words. Probably.

What's next for the world's buzziest surf director? Only time will tell.

Les Deux was sort of a blur after a while.

SURFING's Matt Bauer and friends.

The former editors club: Evan Slater and Chris Mauro catch up.

Jordy and Mitch Coleborn: cheers, bru.

The menus at dinner said: Mitch, we love you, you bitch!

Fish and Kai walk the streets

Hurley's Pat O'Connell and lady.

Bearded Ellis. Brian wears it like no other.