The Endless Summer

Despite living in Southern California, surrounded by the surfer dude culture, I’d never managed to see this 1966 documentary until now. The film traces the story of two surfers – Mike Hynson and Robert August – as they chase the summer season around the world searching for the best waves. They start in Hawaii and California, where we the viewers are given a brief tutorial on the techniques and jargon of surfing, until the oceans start getting too cold. They travel off to the eastern coast of Africa, where they introduce surfing to the “natives” (characterized in 1966 in ways that would not be PC now). Eventually they make their way down to South Africa, riding waves on pristine secluded beaches that may never have been surfed before. They are sorely disappointed to find poor surf in Australia and New Zealand, only to surf in Tahiti where they were told the reefs prevented any true waves. Eventually, they make their way back to Hawaii, having seen the world through the lens of surf.

What I love most about this movie is the fact that, behind the haze of the surf culture, it is a true adventure story. The two surfers, although their motivation may have been superficial, take off on a quest of epic proportions. And just like any other odyssey, they face adversity in different forms along their way – from prohibitive gas prices to pushy locals to shark and knife-like coral – only to eventually return home. Although “The Endless Summer” may have lacked the deep mythology of a great quest story, the archetype is the same and strikes at the heart of any young person – the desire to leave home, see the strange and foreign places, face and overcome obstacles and danger, and to return home stronger.

Of course, because the protagonists are obviously overgrown adolescent American men in their heyday of the 1960s, they barely speak or seem capable of doing anything well except surfing. Credit for keeping this film interesting, then, must be given to the film make Bruce Brown who provided the frame for the story and the narration to add structure. Although at times the narration seems a bit corny, and clearly any non-surfing scenes are staged (sometimes with poorly made props added in), it is the narrator who provides simple, comprehensible context for these men riding the waves.

The director’s greatest success may have been his ability to capture the awe-inspiring beauty of the water. Depending on the mood of the scene, the director managed to capture the ocean itself displaying different moods, from the serenity of the isolation at Cape St. Francis in South Africa to the enraged wrath of The Wedge in Newport Beach, California. Despite what must have been relatively primitive film technology (although I wasn’t a film major, so don’t quote me on that), the director managed to clearly and steadily capture the agility of the surfers aplomb.

In the end, all I can say is: a classic!

Written and Directed by Bruce Brown

The Glory of Their Times

The Story of the Early Days of Baseball Told by the Men Who Played It

Edited by Lawrence S. Ritter

Ritter’s book collects interviews he did (presented as first-person narratives) with great players from the early twentieth century. These men played during the last years of the “dead ball” era, yet were still able to set many records that stand today. Although, as baseball grows and changes, we seem to lose sight of all but only the absolute best of yesteryear, this book will help many of the lesser known legends and myths live on for future generations, regardless of how future eras of baseball adapt the game.

One of the book’s recurring themes (and, apparently, one of the inspirations for the book’s development) is the life and career of Ty Cobb. Although Cobb had died before Ritter began his interviews, his influence and impact on the men thatRitter interviewed is clearly evident. Many of the men mention Cobb’s aggressiveness on the basepaths and his nasty temper, although some also excuse his behavior by explaining that he was desperate to win. Although some of Cobb’s records still stand today, and he remains in the top five of many categories, his legend has lost some of its luster in recent years. Some of the stories told in this book about the southern soldier of the field shed some interesting light on baseball’s original villain and antagonist without necessarily exonerating him.

The other major recurring story is one of baseball’s most infamous plays – Snodgrass’s Muff in the 1912 World Series. Fred Snodgrass himself is interviewed in the book and openly confesses the error, but he points to the fact that by dropping that fly ball he merely allowed the tying to reach base and that they did not lose the game on that play. Many of the other players recall Snodgrass’s excellent career and point to the fact that on the next play after dropping the ball, Snodgrass made a diving stab to catch a ball that would have been a sure triple. Sadly, he is the victim of an ill-timed error which historically overshadows the rest of his playing years, but it was nice to read that at least the other players were able to see his great playing ability beyond that one play.

I was surprised repeatedly about how well these men were able to hit, even with a “dead ball.” They adapted their style of hitting to account for a ball that could rarely be smashed out of the park. Many of the men described how high they would “choke up” on the bat and slap at the ball, dropping it right over the reach of the infielders. This is in stark contrast to the modern era of baseball, when pride or ego will not allow the players to choke up to better control their swings against a tough pitcher.

Overall, I enjoyed this book. But, I tend to like pretty much anything that involves baseball. It was a little bit repetitive at a few points – different players recounting the same event in similar words. Yet, it was fun to read the surprisingly eloquent words of these players while watching a contemporary game in the background.