The Surfer

Watching Nicolas Cage spiral into madness has become something of a cinematic ritual-equal parts thrilling and unnerving.

In "The Surfer," directed by Lorcan Finnegan (Vivarium, Nocebo), that descent reaches new, sun-scorched depths. Cage's performance is as unhinged as it is calculated, delivering the kind of mesmerizing chaos only he can pull off.

But the question lingers: is it entertainment, or is it a warning?

After his sinister turn in "Longlegs," Cage reemerges here as a man simply trying to surf-only to be swallowed by a surreal psychological vortex on a seemingly idyllic Australian beach.

His protagonist, a nameless Surfer, returns to the coast of his youth, hoping to reclaim something pure, maybe even sacred. Instead, he runs afoul of a bizarrely authoritarian group of beach bullies led by the menacing Scally (played with eerie charisma by Julian McMahon).

What follows is not just confrontation-it's ritualistic humiliation and mental disintegration.

Finnegan constructs a sadistic fever dream where the beach becomes a battleground for the soul.

The parking lot-a space so ordinary-mutates into a nightmarish cage. Days blur into one another as the Surfer is stripped of every material attachment: his car, his phone, his designer watch, even his surfboard.

Starving, dehydrated, dirtied, and alone, he's forced to reckon with what he needs versus what he wants.

At its core, "The Surfer" is a grotesque satire of community and masculinity, where the desire to belong becomes a gateway to destruction.

It's a violent allegory for modern identity crises-particularly male identity in an age where digital connection often replaces genuine human bonds. The film flirts with primal themes: dominance, submission, survival, and the illusion of control.

It's almost comically extreme at times, but the humor is bitter, absurd, and often laced with horror.

Finnegan's Australia is vast and unforgiving-a place where the sea offers both escape and punishment. The landscape itself seems to mock the protagonist, serving as a mirror to his fractured ego.

The beach, once a symbol of freedom and youth, becomes a metaphysical arena for transformation. Women are notably absent, or at best peripheral, making the film's world a testosterone-fueled echo chamber that both critiques and indulges in its themes.

"The Surfer"'s journey isn't just physical-it's spiritual. He devolves, then transforms.

The brutal initiation into Scally's tribal gang might represent a search for meaning, a surrender to something primal in an over-sanitized, disconnected world. "You must suffer to surf," he proclaims-a mantra that suggests transcendence through pain. But the price is steep, and the reward ambiguous.

By the film's end, "the Surfer" has been stripped bare-of status, ego, and self-deception. What remains is either a reborn man or a hollow shell.

In interviews, Finnegan has described the film as an exploration of "masculinity in crisis," emphasizing how men can be manipulated into degrading rituals in pursuit of validation and belonging.

"The Surfer" doesn't just chronicle ego death-it explores the seductive, often terrifying power of group identity and the primal longing to be part of something greater.

Visually striking and psychologically punishing, "The Surfer" isn't a movie for all or most tastes. It demands patience and interpretive effort from its audience, but it rewards those willing to ride its chaotic wave.

Finnegan delivers a nightmare worth enduring-one that sticks to the skin like sand and saltwater long after the credits roll.

My daughter took me to see this movie as an 02 freebie and we weren't sure what to expect. We still weren't really sure what we thought after we had seen it either but it wasn't good. I am an avid movie fan and thought the acting, cinematography and location were all superb. There is definitely an interesting idea of a story somewhere in here but it never really manages to emerge. The movie seems to drift between several different possible storylines and or outcomes. You keep hoping there will be a moment of revelation that explains it all, but that just doesn't really happen.

My advice, would be don't bother, there are better things to do with a couple of hours nearly, like cleaning an oven.

That's the same headline I used for Longlegs. I continue to root for Cage and his resurgence over the past few years. I'm glad he's getting roles in theatrical movies. And I will still watch basically anything he's in.

The Surfer is a generally well-made movie and a stark contrast to the straight-to-streaming garbage he was busting out for a while. It has a simple premise that continues to evolve, with a decent amount of intrigue.

Overall, I wasn't a huge fan of this movie. It's a little too artistic and metaphorical for my liking. And I left the cinema a bit unsatisfied.

At least I had the pleasure of witnessing another memorable Cage performance.

(1 viewing, early screening Mystery Movie Monday 4/21/2025)

The story unfolds with Cage arriving at a beach that holds great significance to him. However, when he's ridiculed and forbidden from surfing there with his son, it triggers a series of events that progressively detach from reality, leaving the audience to question even the reality we a witnessing.

One aspect I appreciate is the exploration of the sunken cost fallacy, the tendency to persist with an endeavor we've invested in, even if the current costs outweigh the benefits. Having recently faced a similar decision, I understand how challenging it is to step back and accept a loss.

Watching this in the GL Theatre with Cage and the rest of the crew was a very enjoyable experience.😄

This was the first film I caught this year as part of the London Film Festival at the Prince Charles Cinema in Leicester Square. I've only ever been to this cinema previously to watch previous LFF films and I cannot remember enjoying a single one; the memory that sticks out to mind the most is the pain of watching Encounter with Riz Ahmed (REDACTED comment about members of the audience because it was too "mean"). Suffice to say, my expectations were low although admittedly through no fault of the film.

The film is about a father (played by Nic Cage) taking his son to surf at the same Australian beaches he used to in his childhood. However, he is prevented from doing so by a local gang of manly and sunburnt surfers who humiliate him in front of his son.

I can't remember the last time I enjoyed seeing someone suffer - on screen - this much. It must be a similar experience to sitting in the colosseum and seeing gladiators brutally harm each other, all for your entertainment. The amount of punishment, deprivation and gaslighting that Nic Cage's character suffered throughout the film is only matched by the sheer perseverance and desire he had to ride those sweet waves.

Despite the constant abuse being shown on screen, the film sustains a comedic and dreamy quality throughout. The soundtrack with its use of chimes and the camera with its play on focus helped elevate those scenes with a dehydrated Nic Cage to a place straddling between a delirious dream and a sweaty nightmare. Sometimes the film crosses into a point of hilarious ridiculousness; there is one scene where a dead rat comes out of someone's pocket and is used as a weapon.

This is one of those recent and great films with Nicolas Cage that do hit the mark. It's very funny, it sometimes feels like a comedy play due to its very small number of locations and the film making is interesting and competent, something that sometimes seems neglected with comedy films.

One last thing to note is that the film has a small role played well by Justin Rosniak who I've enjoyed recently in Australian shows like Mr Inbetween and Colin from Accounts. Apparently also, Wake in Fright was a big influence to Lorcan Finnegan in the making of this film, one that I'll have to check out soon.