Lost Atlas (2011)
By Andreas Linnell
Starring Dion Agius, Owen Wright, Craig Anderson, Jordy Smith, Dane Reynolds, Evan Geiselman, Conner Coffin, Kolohe Andino, Julian Wilson, Dusty Payne, Yadin Nicol, Wade Goodall, John Florence, Mitch Coleborn, Chippa Wilson & Dillon Perillo. Directed & produced by Kai Neville.
“I categorize films and videos as two different things,” Endless Summer director Bruce Brown once said in an interview. “A lot of the stuff today doesn’t have enough story, but are just sequences clipped together.” It’s an apt distinction, one that firmly places Lost Atlas in the surf film category. Which is exactly where Kai Neville and his sponsors are the most comfortable.
“I guess this time around I just wanted a no-frills approach. I think there’s a lot of stuff that’s being over-produced in surfing, not really fitting the vibe of where the sport’s going and where the kids are at these days,” he said in a recent conversation with Stab Magazine. And while it’s not much of a direction, coupled with creative cinematography and an unreal talent pool, it can still go a long way. Lost Atlas, hailed as the surf film release of 2011, may very well be proof of that.
If Lost Atlas is Kai Neville’s difficult second album, shouldering the burden of his hugely successful and influential debut Modern Collective, it’s well hidden behind a meticulously polished façade of calculated nonchalance. “I wanted to make it more unexpected,” he’s said. “Modern Collective was more successful than what I expected, but I’d be silly now to do a Modern Collective II, so I tried to do something different and went about making the movie in a completely different way.”
Like Taylor Steele before him, Neville is defining and influencing a new generation of surfers through movies that are all about getting radical, with anything that could possibly be considered excess neatly trimmed away. This lack of depth has been symptomatic of surf films since the VHS, and it helps define its purpose; make no mistake – while both pretty and exciting, this is pretty shallow stuff. But it would be too easy to dismiss Lost Atlas as a hipster wank, tempting as it may be. There’s no question in my mind that this is the most advanced surfing on display today. Whereas only years ago the air was a throwaway move, the vast majority of airs in Lost Atlas are completely functional and WTF moments abound; in particular the pop-shuvits from Chippa Wilson and Wade Goodall, and the rodeo mutations of Dusty Payne. During the 45 minute run-time of more or less constant aerial manoeuvres, these are the ones that’ll make you rub your eyes in disbelief.
It’s an ethereal patchwork that knows no geographical or cultural borders, that is unconcerned with who’s actually surfing for the moment as long as he stomps a sick air, and is at all times acutely aware of a lifestyle neatly packaged in desaturated colors and bold typography which smells suspiciously like Wes Anderson. The photography is lovely, as is the editing, and the music is decidedly non-offensive albeit a mite narrow even for the most avid Pitchfork fan. Still, a great improvement on the earache of the 90’s.
While the cast reads like a who’s who of the most spectacular young guns of today, it is perhaps more interesting to note its omission: Kelly Slater, the poster boy of 20 years ago, who is not only keeping abreast with the Mod Coll kids but routinely sticking it to them. His domination over the past two decades is such that professional surfing doesn’t know quite how to deal with him. Kai Neville simply chose to ignore him.
Trailer clip for Lost Atlas
Final section feat Dusty Payne
The problem with Lost Atlas and Neville’s approach to film making is repetition, much like Taylor Steele before him. The array of tricks is staggering, but piled high with little or no variation and swiftly becomes a numbing experience. For instance, Craig Anderson is all style but this has somehow been left on the editing floor. How is that even possible? It’s not like we’re cutting out the foreplay here, it’s the cherry shot and apart from one lovely barrel it remains completely absent. Consequently, there’s not much holding this Lost Atlas together apart from some fine flying and great production value. And that’s ok. Surf films don’t necessarily need a solid storyline after all. But a little conceptual direction certainly helps making things more interesting.
So forgive me while I struggle with the cranky old man within, looking for substance. Instead let’s look past it and appreciate Lost Atlas for what it is. Rewind and watch Dusty Payne’s closing section again in awe, because it is truly out of this world. And imagine not having seen a surf flick since the Momentum generation in the 90’s and then watching this, to get a perspective on the quantum leap high-performance surfing has made in the past decade. Wherever we go from here, our children will most certainly need oxygen masks. Δ
Lost Atlas can be downloaded at iTunes for $9.99 (US only)
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