The next installment in the Legendary TVC’s series is this gem of a Coke commercial from ’75 with footage from George Greenough‘s seminal Echoes, set to the song with the same name by Pink Floyd. The music in the commercial is not by Pink Floyd, but whatever band made the soundtrack they only changed enough notes to stay clear of a lawsuit.
Don’t forget to check out the previous episodes of Legendary TVC’s: Toohey’s Extra Dry (feat Mark Richards) and Quiksilver (feat Ross-Clarke Jones) if you missed them!
Which are the best surf movie posters ever printed? That is without a doubt the question that has kept a world of surfers awake at night, so it is with a tidy measure of stoke that The Tunnelist is able to present the top 15 surf movie posters of all time. Enjoy!
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15.
Big Wednesday (1978) Directed by John Milius
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14.
The Moods of Surfing (1967) Directed by Greg MacGillivray & Jim Freeman, photography by Leroy Grannis
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13.
Standing Room Only (1978) Directed by Allen Main & Hugh Thomas, designed by Jim Evans
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12.
The Innermost Limits of Pure Fun (1970) Directed George Greenough
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11.
Free and Easy (1967) Directed by Greg MacGillivray and Jim Freeman
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10. Litmus (1995) Directed & designed by Andrew Kidman, Mark Sutherland & Jon Frank
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9. Sprout (2004) Directed & designed by Thomas Campbell
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8.
Pacific Vibrations (1970) Directed by John Severson, designed by Rick Griffin
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7. The Fantastic Plastic Machine (1969) Directed by Eric & Lowell Blum
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6. Big Wednesday (1961) Directed and designed by John Severson
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5. Five Summer Stories (1972) Directed by Greg MacGillivray & Jim Freeman, designed by Rick Griffin
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4. Liquid Space (1973) Directed by Dale Davis
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3. The Endless Summer (1966) Directed by Bruce Brown, designed by John Van Hammersveld
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2. Crystal Voyager (1973) Directed by David Elfick
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1. Forgotten Island of Santosha (1974) Directed by Larry Yates, designed by Bill Ogden
Featuring Wayne Rabbit Bartholomew, Nat Young, Dean Morrison, Beau Young, Dave Rastovich, Steve Pezman, Alby Falzon, Bob McTavish, Phil Jarrat, Tim Baker, Peter Townsend, Shaun Tomson, Sean Doherty, Nick Carroll & Martin Potter. Directed, filmed, edited and animated by Cyrus Sutton.
Under the Sun is a 16mm documentary that explores the cultural differences between two famous Australian surf towns and the effects of commercializing surfing, as a lifestyle and as a sport. And it’s very good.
Cyrus Sutton (whose previous effort, Stoked & Broke, was clearly a harbinger of even greater things to come) spent the better part of 2006-07 in Australia filming and editing the film. For reasons unknown, it didn’t see a DVD or online release until the second half of 2011 when it premiered with an innovative paid-admission streaming event over the course of a weekend. But while it’s taken a while for Under the Sun to get a wider release, it has certainly been worth the wait and with it, Cyrus Sutton joins the ranks of truly distinguished latter day surf movie directors such as Thomas Campbell and Andrew Kidman.
In Under the Sun, Byron Bay and the Gold Coast represent two very different lifestyles and these polar opposites of the surfing industry are thoroughly examined to discover, not just the essence of these geographic locations but also the stories of the people inhabiting them. Just like in Stoked & Broke, these stories are treated with respect and are given space to breathe; in fact, the surfing becomes the glue that binds the stories together rather than the premature punchline to every dialogue which has become the norm in contemporary surf cinematography. But in saying that, the surfing is in no way placed in the back seat and is both faultless and inspiring. How could it not be, with a mix of great archival footage of MP, Rabbit and Nat Young, as well as some electrifying surfing by Beau Young and Dave Rastovich?
Wayne ‘Rabbit’ Bartholomew, the original professional surfer in the 70’s, gracefully epitomizes the assimilated world of competitive surfing. Once fighting tooth and nail to make surfing a respected sport in which an athlete could make a living competing, Cyrus now finds him in an office above Kirra as the president of the ASP. It almost sounds scripted, but he does a great job to steer the idea of competitive surfing away from becoming the anticipated bad guy to the free and easy lifestyle of its Byron Bay counterparts. In the end it’s splitting hairs – is surfing a sport or not? Nat Young, who once chose country soul over competition, claims it’s not.
Together, these two surfing legends neatly represent the two poles of the surfing world: free surfing and competitive surfing. And while we bounce across the state border and visit the countless point breaks the area is famous for, the roots of Australian surfing are dissected by the likes of Steve Pezman (The Surfer’s Journal), Alby Falzon (Morning of the Earth, Tracks), Bob McTavish (uhm, the short board) and journalists Phil Jarrat, Tim Baker and Nick Carroll. In other words, it’s a pretty impressive collective of surfing authority and knowledge. And it soon becomes clear that sponsored free-surfers live a life dictated by ever-growing demands of constant performance and a high level of media visibility, equal to the competitive surfer, if not more. The free-surfer is selling just as many sweatshop T-shirts with his accessible dream of a life with a bit more stoke, a few more peaky barrels and a little less responsibility. It’s the dream most of us could easily lose ourselves in; the romantic notion of the coastal lifestyle or endless Indo barrels, presented with consequence and environmental impact neatly trimmed away. And while there are those who object, their voices are predictably lost. “I’m just a coastal scientist, nobody listens to me,” Neil Lazarow suggests. “But if I was a pro surfer and I was delivering an environmental message, everyone would listen to me.”
And it’s not just the natural environment that pays the price. The cost of overselling surf culture is presented without overture in its bleak, naked glory. The mind-boggling crowds, the burns and collisions, the ensuing aggression and explosive beach-side violence form a heady reality check. Nowhere is the overcrowding as visible as it is on the Superbank. Cyrus captures the risky and ridiculous nature of the gauntlet each surfer faces, as he or she catches a wave and is forced to dodge some thirty other surfers bobbing about in the impact zone. It is at once the funniest and most poignant moment of the whole movie.
Cyrus has found a unique and dynamic tone of voice that really distinguishes him from other well-produced surfing documentaries such as Riding Giants say, or Bra Boys. The photography is lovely, the pace stimulating. Faultless water photography (apparently Cyrus got help with the rig from George Greenough, resulting in some surprisingly fine in-the-tube visions) is followed by a birds eye perspective, followed by juxtaposing time-lapses of neon-lit cityscapes and clouds rolling over Mt. Warning, halfway between Byron Bay and the Gold Coast. It’s dynamic, inviting and clever; the real issues are deftly woven into the fabric of playful tone of voice and charming stop-frame model animations. The endless months of sleeping on beaches, couches and in the back of cars, on top of having all his camera gear stolen (twice!) certainly paid off.
The end is as ridiculous as it is brilliant, with a perfect rainbow over Coolangatta clearly ending at peeling Burleigh Heads, illustrating the need to unite and embrace the increasing popularity and inevitable commercialization of surfing. Because only then can surfing become truly sustainable. Δ
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Photos by Cyrus Sutton. Under the Sun (trailer) is available as a digital download ($14.99) or as a streaming rental ($4.99) on The Surf Network. It is also available as a DVD at Korduroy.tv.
What did you think of Under the Sun? Let us know in the comments!
Forty-three years ago, only experts knew the view: the womblike pocket, the funneling lip, the telescoped time, the vacuum sound — all of this, the most rarefied seconds of a surfer’s life, and yet no surf photographer had captured it for the world to see. Things changed in 1968. Santa Barbara’s Harold Ward was boating regularly to the Hollister Ranch, where he occasionally saw the eccentric George Greenough getting barreled with a camera fastened to his back, shooting innovative, in-the-tube footage for his iconic film The Innermost Limits of Pure Fun. “I had shot a few rolls of George filming tube rides,” Ward said, “when a desire to shoot stills while tuberiding grew within me. George showed me how to build a water housing for my camera, fitted with a fisheye lens, and I spent many a day trying to get a reasonable shot from inside the tube, without much success.” Then, late one winter afternoon, Ward was bobbing around at a hollow Ranch reefbreak, vainly attempting to get the perfect tube shot, when Greenough arrived, stoked to try something different. “I had fitted a radio-controlled solenoid into the housing,” Ward said, “and I was very keen to have George strap it to his back and catch a few waves. He agreed enthusiastically and paddled out, waiting only a minute or two for a set wave, while I sat in the channel 200 feet away, where I had a clear view of his ride. “Since the camera was radio-controlled, I needed visual contact with George for the critical part of his wave. I pushed the ‘fire’ button when I could see his positioning was just right, and the camera shot a few frames of film.” Instantly, Ward believed he had photographed something special, something unprecedented, a fragment of tube time frozen forever on a 35-millimeter square of film.
Davyan Cowboy by Boards of Canada and directed by Melissa Olsen is without a doubt my favourite surfing music video of all time (not counting Echoes by Pink Floyd, masterfully visualised by George Greenough in the 70s). The clip is a collage consisting of footage from Joe Kittinger‘s parachute jump from an altitude of 31.4 km, Laird Hamilton footage and clips from Crystal Voyager. How can you go wrong?
I can’t think of any film I want to see more than George Greenough’s Dolphin Glide, and I find myself with frightening regularity scouring the internet for clues as to when or where it might get released. I’m beginning to think it’ll never happen. In the meantime, the clip above is a 5 minute excerpt. Not much but better than nothing.
Excerpt from George Greenough’s elusive Dolphin Glide film, origin unknown (although judging from the quality it’s filmed off a private screening / projection).