A Deeper Shade of Blue

I can probably be classified as the antithesis of your stereotypical surfer, but there's something to learn from just about everybody, and this film was enlightening. I was unaware of the long, rich history of surfing before watching this documentary. That culture is broader and a bit more diverse than what I (or even society) knew. I enjoyed it!

I always turn to any channel that has anything about the ocean on, so this movie hooked me without having to try. I wasn't watching the surfers so much as the large amounts of screen time the ocean got, as well as the magnificent scenery. I learned a lot about surfing watching this too though. I had no idea of the timeline and the immense amount of board styles there have been and continue to be. It really is a science. It was a slow and relaxed pace which made me sit back and enjoy it even more.

I didn't think it was possible to make a boring surf movie, but Jack McCoy managed it. The premise of "A Deeper Shade of Blue" is a good one: the history of the evolution of surfing from its roots in Hawaii. But the film is really a series of vignettes about several contemporary surfers--a couple with "retro" qualities, but none among the many pioneers who are still with us. Familiar, and apparently now mandatory, segments on terrifying barrels at Teahoupoo and Shipstern are inter-spliced with a thin historical narrative, that altogether would barely fill a Wikipedia page. It jumps all over the place (the narrator has to explain one non-sequitir by saying "we are getting ahead of our story"), and is accompanied by frustratingly brief clips from older surf films (what, were the royalties too steep to afford to show a complete ride?). The dialog is the kind of drivel that early surfing magazine editors like Drew Kampion tried so hard to rise above. (The exception is Gerry Lopez, who, with typical modesty, attributes his mastery of Pipeline to having a more advanced board than the other surfers at the time.)

The introductory "panel discussion" is embarrassing in it's self indulgence. The "stars" of the movie fawn over McCoy, and McCoy fawns over them and over Paul McCartney (who is not there). The Marshall brothers seem to think they are Hollywood hipsters channeling Mickey Dora and Johnny Fain, but would Dora ever have asked "Gee, Jack, did you actually meet Paul McCartney?

For insight into Hawaiian surf culture, Dan Brown's documentary "Surfing for Life" is head and shoulders above "Deeper Shade of Blue," even though it is not the former film's primary theme. I didn't expect Jack Mcoy to be Ken Burns, but I expected much better. A film history of surfing still begs to be made.