Riding Giants (2004)
"The documentary film is the medium
of listening... if the director is moved by what is
being said, so too should the cameraman." - Stacy
Peralta in FLM Magazine
Stacy Peralta's documentary "Dogtown
and Z-Boys" proved to be one of the most interesting,
action-packed and well-made films of the past few
years. But one only has to see "Stoked: The Legend
of Gator" or Peralta's latest film, "Riding Giants,"
to realize that what made that earlier film so great
wasn't just the filmmaker's passion, his skill, or
the subject matter itself; it was the fact that Peralta
was coming at the film from the inside. He had been
there; he lived it. He was one of the original Dog
Boys. This made it much easier to take his filmmaking
skills and adapt them to a story he knew very well,
a story he had lived. He doesn't have quite such a
close connection to his subject, surfing, in this
new film, and the piece is slightly lacking because
of this.
That isn't to say that this isn't
a very good film or that Peralta isn't a great filmmaker.
But he comes across as a bit of a pretentious show-off
early in this film. Rather than introducing the story,
he seems to be pretentiously displaying what a rad
filmmaker he is with cool graphics, hip animation
and rocking music. It's difficult not to dismiss the
film in its early minutes because of Peralta's cinematic
hot-dogging.
But "Riding Giants" soon evolves
into the story of the 20th century's first surfing
star, Greg Noll, and the film begins to become intensely
interesting. Knoll and his friends apparently have
a ton of photos and home movies from their exploits
in Hawaii and California in the 50's and 60's and
they give Peralta seemingly complete access to these
materials. If nothing else, Peralta proves he must
be a respected person in the alternative sports arena
for Noll to give him such access to his personal collection
of films. Here Peralta continues to prove what a dynamic
filmmaker and storyteller he is by combining these
elements, with newly lensed interview footage and
rocking period music to create an engrossing and personal
tale. This beginning is truly the most interesting
and exciting thing about this film and makes its existence
very worthwhile.
The latter half of the movie is
less dynamic and less interesting because, as it moves
to the modern age, it becomes a fairly unhistorical
document. The second half of this film seems more
like "surfer video" and fails to ignite the casual
viewers interest in what the fuss is all about. It's
more like something you'd only watch on ESPN2 if nothing
else was on. Surfers Jeff Clark and Laird Hamilton
(who also produces here, need I say more) are spotlighted
and treated as surfing legends but their exploits
seem pale compared to Noll. And with the advent of
video, the footage oddly seems far less personal and
revelatory. Still, there are a lot of cute, half-naked,
wet surfer boys in this part of the film, so there
is some eye candy to keep the ocular senses engaged.
The events covered are the kind that really only interest
true surfing enthusiasts with Clark being involved
in the rekindling of California as a surfing haven
in the 70's and 80's and Hamilton sparking the revolution
of jetskis being used in wave surfing.
Still, even with its lesser second
half, nothing could negate the impressive first part
of this film. It seems like a truly important and
historic document and Peralta shows that he is certainly
a dynamic filmmaker and one who can create interesting
sports-oriented documentaries. Noll must have trusted
him to share all his archive footage with Peralta
and this alone makes his worth as a filmmaker evident.
Notes:
Many surfers appear in archive footage
in the film and in newly lensed interviews.
Loads of pop songs are used. David
Bowie's "Stay" is used over the introduction to the
Clark part of the story. Several clips from "surfer"
film are shown including "Gidget" and "Ride the Wild
Wave."
The film debuted at Sundance in
January 2004 and began an arthouse run in July.
Viewed in Austin in July 2004 at
a press sneak at the Dobie.
