Thirty-seven years
ago, Bruce Brown wrote, directed and narrated a documentary
that did as much to spread the Gospel of Surfing as the visits paid
by Hawaiian masters George Freeth and Duke Kahanamoku
to California and Australia - nearly 100 years ago - and the births
of the singing Wilson brothers.
In The Endless
Summer, Brown and his hand-held 16mm camera followed two young
surfers around the world, in search of the "perfect wave."
They found some pretty terrific swells but, more importantly, they
also were able to document for their friends back home the extent
to which their sport had grown and the existence of distant beaches,
where tire-tread sandals rarely trod. The film became an instant sensation,
not only in Orange County and Malibu - where surf movies already enjoyed
a cult-like following - but also in hundreds of land-locked Heartland
cities, where even the thought of California inspired feelings of
wanderlust in boys otherwise destined for a tour of duty in Vietnam.
Thirty years later,
in The Endless Summer II, Brown would retrace the footsteps
he left in the sand on those same beaches, only this time he carried
a 35mm camera and enlisted his son, Dana, to help him write, edit,
produce and shoot the documentary. This time around, however, surfing
had spread to every corner of Earth and was becoming so popular in
southern California that locals often resorted to violence to keep
outsiders from their turf. Guitar-god Dick Dale was riding
the wave of a newfound interest in surf music, but the Beach Boys'
saga had turned tragic.
In 2002, Dana
Brown undertook a surfin' safari of his own. The fruit of that
labor, Step Into Liquid, opened Friday in southern California,
Hawaii and New York City, and will platform out to other cities later
this summer and fall.
Rather than re-retrace
his and his dad's footsteps, Brown discovered new Valhallas of international
surfdom, as well as some amusing roadside attractions and a submerged
mountain that produces some of the most magnificent waves imaginable.
This time around, Brown was armed with a 35mm, super16 and hi-def
24p camera.
Not surprisingly,
Step Into Liquid is a visual treat for surfers and landlubbers,
alike. Like his dad before him, Brown's folksy narration makes the
film feel more like a postcard home than a documentary. The original
music is to mainstream surf music, what the Osmonds were to
the Jackson 5 ... again, just like The Endless Summer.
This interview
took place, by phone, a few days before Step Into Liquid opened
in Los Angeles.
MOVIE CITY
NEWS: In Step Into Liquid, we're introduced to surfers
who are content to ride the wakes of supertankers for three miles
at a time, and others who are transported to distant waves on jet-skis.
You take us to Ireland, Vietnam, Easter Island, Tahiti, Texas and
... Wisconsin. I grew up about an hour's drive from Sheboygan, but
wasn't aware that it was famous for surfing, as well as bratwurst.
DANA BROWN:
Yeah, we also met a guy wearing a Milwaukee Long Board Club jacket,
but he didn't make the cut.
MCN: Lake
Michigan pales in comparison to the Pacific. Still, big water is big
water. Did you feel a kinship with the guys from Sheboygan?
DB: That
feeling is what this movie is all about, and it's almost impossible
to describe.
MCN: How
did you hear about it? Lake Michigan is only surfable a few days a
year -- then, it tends to freeze over.
DB: From
a friend of mine, Evan Slater, editor of Surfing magazine.
I already knew about all the exciting, adventurous, big-wave places
we would visit. But I was interested in finding the ying to that yang,
or whatever ... something offbeat, but sincere.
Evan said, "You've
heard of the Dairyland Surfing Classic, in Sheboygan, haven't you?
I said, "What?" I was stunned. Evan assured me that these
guys were part of the Midwest Surfing Association, and very serious.
So, we went out
there, and there were a ton of them. They were all friends, and would
go out there and bond over a bonfire and beer.
MCN: In
the years between The Endless Summer, the sequel and Step
Into Liquid, it seems as if several lifetimes' worth of technological
change took place. I assume the original was shot on 16mm.
DB: Yeah,
Endless Summer was a one-man, one-camera, two-surfer operation.
MCN: And,
the Endless Summer II was shot on 35mm?
DB: Yup,
it was a big box, and not nearly as portable.
MCN: And
Step Into Liquid combined both of those formats with digital?
DB: It
was mostly a combination of 35mm and 24P HiD, which blows up way better
than 16. Because of all the technological advances, we were able to
use smaller cameras - HiDef and super 16, for the most part ... 35mm
on the helicopter mounds - which allowed us to do more set-ups, like
my dad did.
We used the 24P
for interviews, and to shoot some of the surfing scenes. We also would
alternate formats when we wanted to use slow-motion.
MCN: It
all came together on 35mm, but I could hardly tell the difference
between the material shot on digital and film.
DB: That's
what's we hoped for. We wanted to make it look seamless. After we
put it together, it was so hard to tell what was what that it even
fooled our editor.
MCN: Not
many films have been shot on 24P. Is it getting easier to find a camera?
DB: Thank
god for all those busy little beavers at the tech companies, who are
competing with each other ... 'cause we're the ones who benefit.
MCN: One
of Hollywood's lessons to live by is to avoid shooting on water at
all costs. Is it as challenging as all that?
DB: I'd
say, for our purposes, it was difficult to shoot on water. But, the
new stuff makes it easier, especially when we needed the sound of
the big waves. Instead of being able to set up for a sound guy, with
a gaffe, slates etc. etc., you've got to stick the camera and mike
right in there and marry the sound to the image.
It just removes
a lot of steps, which is good. Then, too, with HiDef, you have a lot
of latitude with f-stops .. although film stock is getting better,
there's still problems with shooting in dark places.
MCN: Those
waves on the Cortez Bank were pretty formidable. What kind of mount
did you use to keep things more or less steady.
DB: We
were shooting from a 45-foot charter fishing boot, using a Hydro Gyro
mount. A tech came along to set the mount's computer on the horizon
line, and, then, the mount is able to steady itself by remembering
the horizon line. Add the camera on top of it, and you're off to the
races.
We'd alternate
shooting, because, if you spent too much time looking through the
camera's eyepiece, you'd get seasick.
MCN: The
Cortez Bank is incredible. Was it as isolated as they say?
DB: The
nearest land is Catalina Island, and that's 60 miles away. Otherwise,
it's 100 miles from the mainland.
MCN: It
reminds me of the mythic wave in Big Wednesday, except these
are quite real and don't appear once every generation or so.
DB: The
Bank has been fished for years, so a lot of people knew about it.
I think that Spanish explorers even knew about it. The waves are caused
by an underwater mountain, whose peak is very close to the surface.
Some boats have run aground out there, and it almost sank an aircraft
carrier. It's a legendary place. If you're out there at night and
don't know it's there, you might look up, and, all of a sudden, you've
got the Poseidon Adventure outside your window.
MCN: It's
been pretty inaccessible, but surfers often to go to ridiculous lengths
to avoid a crowd.
DB: There
were always legends about surfing it, because it was this mysto spot.
But, it's 100 miles out and just plain nasty out there. Even if you
do manage to find it, there's no guarantee you'll arrive on a day
when all the elements would come together at the same time ... the
line-up, the swell, the bottom.
The surfers would
be there, but the waves wouldn't cooperate. But, everything came together
for us.
MCN: Would
a digital projector enhance the viewing experience, considering the
use of the HiDef cameras.
DB: We
projected it digitally on this giant screen at the Maui Film Festival,
and it looked great. More than 3,000 people showed up. I'm sure it
would look amazing on IMAX, too.
MCN: You
still seem to be selling surfing as clean, wholesome and fun activity
- and, in the scene shot in Northern Ireland - one that transcends
religious and political borders. Was this in reaction to all the stories
about violent "Surf Nazis," so-called locals-only beaches,
and the hyper-hedonistic lifestyle of some of the big-wave surfers
who live near Mavericks?
DB: Not
really, but I'm not saying that everyone who surfs is a saint, either.
There are idiots everywhere. Those guys in Santa Cruz sort of revel
in it, so they deserve what they get.
MCN: Still
no music by the Beach Boys or Dick Dale music, though.
The songs seem a bit tame, actually. Same thing in Endless Summer.
DB: You
know, that whole surf sound was a misleading, because a lot of the
surfers I knew listen to jazz. That music in the '60s was also was
associated with hot rods. The labels merely were piggy-backing on
what was hot at the time.
They were talented
musicians, but the sound had nothing to do organically with what surfers
were listening to, at all. We did use some of that 'Wipe Out,' sound
in the Sheboygan scene, though, to give it a kind of winky-eye feel.