Safe to say, there’s a certain amount of expectations when a film dons the title “The Surfer.” But there’s very little of the sport featured in Lorcan Finnegan’s film. If anything, the activity serves as a metaphor for Nicolas Cage’s delightfully unhinged performance at its center. Once you think it’s about one topic of experiencing a midlife crisis, the film shifts into another gear — allowing for its lead star to take the wheel into a territory you’ll be pleasantly scratching your head over once the credits roll.
Cage’s character (who is nameless) returns to his hometown of Luna Bay, Australia, with his son, aptly named The Kid (played by Finn Little). “The Surfer” is a little bit down on his luck; he’s going through a divorce, and his son doesn’t look at him too fondly. To ultimately compensate for the abudance of personal failure, Cage’s character is trying to close a deal on a multi-million dollar house on a cliff in Luna Bay. Among the calls to an agent who is stressing to him that he is running out of time to come up with the money, the man wants to take his son out in the waves, just as his late father did.
The Surfer / Photo Credit: Roadside Attractions
Unfortunately, a significant problem arises. The locals will not allow the Surfer to well…surf on the beach. The phrase “Don’t live here, don’t surf here” is barked in his direction. It’s the Surfer’s hometown. Do you lose ownership of it when you leave? Of course, he should be able to enjoy the spoils of the beach. He doesn’t pass himself off as one of the down-to-earth people of Luna Bay. Cage’s character drives a luxury car and treats everybody, not his son, as a means to an end. His main antagonists are known as the “Bay Boys” with a figure named Scally (Julian McMahon) as the leading voice of this band of men of all ages. His manospheric ideology could be found down the rabbit hole of any YouTube algorithm. The group pushes an overabundance of looking strong. They have a clubhouse on the beach where they brand one another and have caveman-like rituals. Most of all, they have a foil they can torment.
The Surfer / Photo Credit: Roadside Attractions
They start things off by stealing his surfboard and acting as if the incident hadn’t happened at all. Unfortunately, the town is not on the Surfer’s side because it just so happens that any of the men could be a Bay Boy. So, at that point, a reasonable person would probably call it a day. That’s where Thomas Martin’s story gives the keys over to Cage in a manner that would be described as a lone man’s descent into a personal hell. While the Surfer is losing his mind and most of his possessions as he tries to figure out how to retrieve his surfboard, Finnegan dresses the film in surrealism. Radzek Ladczuk’s cinematography style adds an extra layer to the film’s surroundings. The beach feels peaceful and serene, but in contrast, the searing nature of the sun grows as the Surfer falls more into despair. François Tétaz’s Latin-gearred soundtrack gives the plot a feeling of paradise for most of it, but it’s anything but.
For much of the runtime, the audience witnesses a man coming apart in all facets. There’s much to be said that Finnegan allows for this section of “The Surfer” to go on a little too long. It’s enthralling to see Cage’s performance grow more desperate as these nameless characters look to torment him as much as possible. As the film teeters on the cusp of parity, it catches itself wondering something about how weaponized masculinity can be in the wrong hands. When men are broken down into nothing, seeking reprieve, they often end up being molded by the bad faith actors. Finnegan takes a little bit to get there, but it doesn’t prove any less effective to show how men like Scally are powerful in the eyes of the broken in the real world.
The Surfer was reviewed at the 2025 SXSW Film & TV Festival.
