Flashy High Water a Picture-Postcard Bore
It’s easy to see why Dana Brown’s (Dust to Glory, Step into Liquid) 2008 documentary Highwater has been sitting on the shelf for two years. Centering on surfing’s unofficial “Triple Crown” of events taking place on Hawaii’s island of Oahu between Halloween and Christmas, the film is a visually stunning if emotionally shallow enterprise that barely scratches the surface of its potential. For all its talk about things substantive this film goes just about nowhere, and while I appreciated all the pretty pictures filling the screen in the end this documentary left me cold wanting for more.
Rochelle Ballard in Highwater © Outsider Pictures/Apostrophe Films
I will say that the opening is positively breathtaking. We get to see the famous North Shore break through the eyes of a surfboard, the mixture of sound and image throughout this whole sequence positively stunning. On top of that, there are scenes of surfing action that can’t help but blow the mind, Brown and his team of photographers (led by veteran camera operator J. Steven Matzinger taking the reigns as lead cinematographer) assembling footage that’s beyond extraordinary.
But all this eye candy can only get you so far, and as great as it all looks at a certain point I wanted a bit more depth than what was actually being delivered. The surfers (led by some of the sport’s superstars like Kelly Slater, Monique Marrier and David Sanderson) are all treated with kiddy gloves, Brown so beholden to them its almost like he lets his friendships with them all get in the way of his directorial duties. These are glossy, threadbare presentations and I never once felt like I was getting to know any of these guys in a meaningful way, and even when some of their insights rang true the majority of them couldn’t help but feel like petty meanderings from pampered prima donnas too used to getting their own way.
Not that all of the moments with the surfers are insufferable. I actually find myself giggling in somewhat mild agreement when they somewhat seriously joke about wishing that a hurricane would knock down some of the multi-million dollar homes springing up along the North Shore. There is also something to be said about how many of them openly rail against the increased commercialization of their sport, publicly mocking the very sponsors that help pay for their livelihoods.
There just isn’t any meat Highwater, no flesh encasing the bones allowing for any of these personal moments to last. In the end I just didn’t care about them, a huge part of me wishing I could cut out all of these human interest scenes entirely, get rid of all the dialogue, turn up the volume one the music and sound effects and just sit back and allow all the visual splendor to wash over me like one of Oahu gigantic waves.
Film Rating: êê1/2 (out of 4)
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