I had an interesting conversation the other day.
It was about surfing. And about Hollywood. But mostly about where the two intersect. There was a lot of frustration being expressed, frustration about the people who make the pictures and how they never get it right. Every Hollywood surf movie is plagued by pretty much everything. Inconsistencies. Radicalization. Indulgent story lines. Careless cliches. Locusts, all of those things.
It’s worth noting that the conversation was spawned by one about how great The Martian is.
Now, I’ve never been north of the stratosphere. I don’t know much about the Martian climate and I’m not sure if it is even possible for real astronauts (excluding Buzz Aldrin) to be as handsome and likable as Matt Damon. But I’m confident The Martian was more factually atrocious than any surf movie ever. Even Point Break.
Every problem you have with Hollywood surf movies is a problem that someone else has with some other Hollywood film. You think life on Wall Street is accurately brought to light through the embellished story of Jordan Belfort? No. Most of those people cry in the shower every morning and pay to bang hookers with their sad, weird-looking stock market guy penises.
Hollywood doesn’t strive for accuracy. They strive for cold, pale, wrinkled, Middle American asses in seats. And that’s why we shouldn’t complain about a movie like The Shallows. We just gotta let ’em have it.
We still have films like Psychic Migrations and that’s all we’ll ever need.
PS — Blake Lively. Sup?