The Surfer
Julian McMahon in The Surfer
Sun, sand, surf — and spiralling psychosis? The Surfer, starring a wonderfully unhinged Nicolas Cage, is not the glossy, salt-sprayed surf movie you might be expecting. This psychological thriller takes a detour into dreamlike dread, obsession, and the violently twisted side of nostalgia, all under the guise of sun-drenched Australian surf culture.
Cage plays a man returning to the beach of his boyhood, hoping for a bonding surf session with his son. What he finds instead is a hyper-territorial gang of local surfers who sneer, "Don’t live here, don’t surf here." So begins a steady descent into madness that is equal parts gripping and groan-worthy.
Obsession Soaked in Saltwater
What starts as a minor slight turns into an all-consuming vendetta. Cage’s character refuses to leave the beach’s car park, camping out in his car as he wages war with the locals. His need to reclaim the surf break, to reclaim his past, becomes an obsession that spirals into full-blown madness.
Nicolas Cage in The Surfer
The film plays fast and loose with reality — dreamlike sequences, time loops, a multitude of Australian fauna, and surreal moments make you question what's real and what’s in the protagonist’s unravelling mind. It’s trippy. Sometimes stylishly so, sometimes just confusing. But the undercurrent is clear: obsession, especially nostalgia-fuelled, ego-driven obsession, can be as dangerous as any rip current.
Machismo with a Brain haemorrhage
At the heart of The Surfer is a brutal takedown of toxic masculinity. Cage goes head-to-head with Julian McMahon’s Scally, a local surf ‘shaman’ who evokes modern-day toxic masculinity influencers as he preaches the violently absurd mantra: “You must suffer to become a surfer.”
Their macho posturing, beachside bullying, and physical dominance reflect a disturbingly common underbelly of Aussie surf culture, one where masculinity is defined by violence, territory, and control (Bra Boys, we’re looking at you!). There’s a clear allegory here, but the film handles it with all the subtlety of a major wipeout. Still, there's a hypnotic power to watching Cage unravel, chest heaving, eyes wide, foaming with both rage and salt.
Julian McMahon in The Surfer
Nostalgia Isn’t a Safe Wave
The real villain in The Surfer might not be the surfer gang, but the seductive lure of the past. Cage’s character isn't just fighting for a wave, he’s trying to reclaim a version of himself that may never have truly existed. The beach becomes a battleground of memory, ego, and delusion.
And while the film suffers from clunky dialogue in its first act, it eventually finds a strange rhythm. Mainly helped by Cage’s willingness to go absolutely feral and some hallucinogenic visuals involving kangaroos, spiders, cicadas and kookaburras that feel like an acid trip gone bush.
While its allegories are about as subtle as a shark attack, The Surfer delivers a hypnotic, if uneven, descent into one man’s unravelling psyche.
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