On Thursday, July 11, Volcom premiered its newest surf film “Football, Shmootball…A 16mm North Shore Diary,” at the Regency Laguna South Coast Cinema in Laguna Beach, California to a packed house of several hundred industry insiders, pro surfers, and Laguna locals.
While the film was dubbed to be the story behind “the house” — that being the house that Volcom rented for several months on the North Shore last winter — what we actually got to see was all the hot surfing that took place in front of the house at Backdoor, plus various other spots around the North Shore. In addition, the film repeatedly cut back to a group of people attempting to play football on the sand in front of the house (they actually sucked), and interviews with various Volcom vagrants who lived at the house during the winter, talking about the gnarly parties and lifestyle they lived.
While these assorted stories primed the audience for a section rivaling a “girls gone wild” party scene, it never materialized.
Instead, the opening shots of the movie filmed by Brad Anderson and directed and produced by Troy Eckert, included a very well-stocked bar and some fire burning, then cut to Bruce Irons putting on an incredible display of small-wave mastery, popping aerials and throwing huge, fin-release cutbacks. Then the waves get big and the action turned to huge backdoor barrels and filthy-deep, endless tube rides. After watching five minutes of Irons pulling in deep, it’s no surprise he won the Pipe Masters event this year. And there’s decent coverage of him doing just that.
Other standouts included the freak Ozzie Wright showing he can surf Hawaii just as well as his home breaks in Australia, and an insane section of Gavin Beschen ripping to the haunting riffs of classic Black Sabbath.
While “Football, Shmootball” left the crowd pumped to go surfing and did a great job documenting all the action that took place in the water in front of the the Volcom North Shore house, it definitely left the crowd wondering what really happened inside the house. Then again, maybe we really don’t want to know.
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