Panic Fest 2025: The Surfer delights in dragging Nicholas Cage through an Altman-esque neo-noir
The Panic Fest horror/genre film festival is currently running in KC for its 2025 season at Screenland Armour. These film reviews are from indie and studio horror/comedy/sci-fi features premiering right now in the Northland, or hitting major theaters/VOD soon. Catch up with all our coverage here.
Ask anyone to describe Nicholas Cage, and invariably, you’re going to get a bevy of answers. Most of which highlight his penchant for “weird” characters. The term often associated with it being “rage Cage”. Describing the Oscar winner’s uncanny ability to switch to an unhinged (“uncaged”?) state at a moment’s notice. It’s a skill he’s parlayed the last few years into helping smaller productions garner extra attention due to his involvement.
His latest endeavor, The Surfer, taps into that primal state while placing Cage in the middle of an existential and sun-drenched nightmare journey along the Australian coast.
Arriving in picturesque Luna Bay a few days before Christmas, a hard-working father (Cage), hopes to accomplish two things on this special day.
First, he wants a chance to go surfing with his son in the place where he fell in love with the sport. Secondly, out on the water, he wants to surprise his son with the news that he’s finally fulfilling his life’s dream of buying his grandfather’s home overlooking the bay. He knows he’s sacrificed to get here, but everything will change when he closes on the house.
Almost immediately, things go awry. Youths at the top of the hill pester both father and son to go home. Down on the beach, a group of men get in their faces with the repeated line of “locals only. Don’t live here, can’t surf here”. The pair are saved by the enigmatic Scally (Julian McMahon), who controls the cult-like group of ruffians. He suggests they skedaddle before things turn a bit sour. Determined to get his way, the unnamed father sends his son back home. Unfortunately for him, things are about to get much much worse.
Straight away, director Lorcan Finnegan’s (Vivarium, Nocebo) film recalls Wake In Fright and Walkabout, where characters are put against forces they don’t understand. Basking under the sun, the sounds of sizzling asphalt and the rustling of the brush are almost maddening. Clashing against these images are beautiful shots of the beach and crashing waves. Evoking a grand oasis just out of Cage’s reach. The proverbial paradise beckoning onward, against all reason.
In the second half, the heat and oppression are still there, but veer in the direction of Frank Perry & Sydney Pollack’s The Swimmer with more than a bit of Falling Down. The surfer engages in an existential leg of the journey after being pushed past the brink of sanity.
Cage spends a lot of the film wandering around the car park and the overlook, high above the beach. Kind of like a loopy vulture, observing everything, but unsure of what to do. In short succession, his car is vandalized and the battery dies. His phone died, and he has access to his credit cards. Coffee is spilled on him. Glass is embedded in his feet. The only person he finds sympathetic to his plight is a crazy homeless man (Nicholas Cassim) searching for his lost dog.
If it all sounds a bit loosely stitched together, it’s because Thomas Martin’s script and Tony Cranstoun’s editing give The Surfer a fair bit of slack. Almost too much. A few sequences meander a bit, affecting the pacing. While reused hallucinatory flashbacks repeated too often. Especially given that they don’t necessarily have a payoff for their continued inclusion. It’s a case where tightening the reins across the board would have been a good call.
Even Cage, who gives a solid performance, is misused at times. Giving in to his more shambling tendencies, when the scene could do with more subtlety or nuisance. It’s hard to fault Cage though, given how compelling and mesmerizing his commitment is.
Surprisingly, he isn’t even the best part of the film. That distinct honor belongs to McMahon. With a crew cut and mustache, Scally projects a cool and controlled menace. A former CEO turned local guru; he’s the kind of guy who says modern men are too soft, and he shapes them into what masculinity “should be.” Yet he never yells or loses his cool to get his point across. One spectacular scene sees him intimidate a submissive Cage, merely through the act of eating a hamburger.
The Surfer is an odd bird. With its pervasive sun, ’70s style, and neo-noir vibe, there’s a lot to like. Cage and McMahon are terrific in one man’s journey to venture past the break and ride waves in his hometown.
