Before you get to judging, think for a minute: What the hell is the point of surfing?
None. There is none. This is fun. Silly, pointless, beautiful fun. Why take any of it seriously at all?
88 Surfboards sure don’t. They’re out there, god bless their hearts, taking the piss, riding finless foamies on their stomachs (no, not bodyboarding exactly), kneeboarding their way into crystalline tubes, laughing, always laughing.
Maybe you’d prefer to be the surfer puffing out their cheeks, determinedly (and awkwardly) flapping down the line on a 5’11” thruster, screwing up your face into a kind of angry concentration, before hitting the lip (bro), in a most serious fashion.
But these guys and gals don’t. Look at ’em, making fun the priority. The reason we got into this whole surfing thing to begin with. And, hey, why not have both? For every time there is a season; a time to shred, a time to foamie.
Now, Coleman’s films can get a little avant garde-y for some, and that’s fine. Just let the purity of this soft-toppin flow.