The Surfer (Nicolas Cage) is an American who has returned to the Australian beach where his dad used to surf.  He wants to buy a home overlooking the ocean.  Even more importantly, he wants to surf with his teenage son (Finn Little).  As the Surfer and his son walk towards the water, they are confronted by three men.  The leader of the men goes by the name of Pitbull (Alexander Bertrand).

“Don’t live here,” Pitbull says, “don’t surf here.”

The Surfer assures Pitbull that his son is an amazing surfer.  (The Surfer’s son looks embarrassed.)

“Don’t live here, don’t surf here,” Pitbull replies.

Pitbull is a member of a cult of local surfers, all of whom follow Scally (Julian McMahon), a self-appointed guru who recites his rules with a ruthless but charismatic intensity.  Scally brands his followers, burning their flesh in a ritual to announce that they are now a part of his family.  “Before you can surf, you must suffer,” Scally says.

Now, to be honest, I would just go to a different beach.  I’m not a surfer.  I’m not even that much of a swimmer.  I do, however, enjoy laying out on a nice beach or by a big swimming pool.  One thing that I’ve learned is that, when the cult arrives, you leave.  Seriously, there’s always somewhere better to go.  Any place that does not have a cult will be infinitely better than a place that does.

The Surfer’s son agrees with me and suggests just going to another beach but that’s not an option for the Surfer.  The Surfer is obsessed with Scally’s beach and he’s determined to surf it.  It was on that beach where the Surfer made his best childhood memories.  It was on that beach where his father died.  The Surfer sends his son back home and then the Surfer literally moves into his Lexus.  He sleeps in the parking lot and he keeps an obsessive eye on the beach.

People come and go.  The Surfer meets the Bum (Nic Cassim), who claims that Scally is responsible for the death of both his dog and his son.  A local cop comes by and is quickly revealed to be a member of Scally’s cult.  The Surfer become more and more disheveled.  He loses his money.  He loses his car.  He runs into his real estate agent (Rahel Romahn) but the agent says that he’s never seen the Surfer before.  The Surfer starts to hallucinate and can no longer keep straight who is who.  What at first seemed like an intense midlife crisis and a desire to reclaim one’s youth starts to seem like something much more troubling and potentially psychotic.  Everyone tells The Surfer to leave.  Everyone tells him that he’s never going to get his house and he’s never going to surfer the beach.  But, like the Bum, the Surfer is a man obsessed.

The Surfer is an intriguing film.  At first, it seems like it’s going to be another Nicolas Cage revenge film.  Then, it becomes a surreal head trip, one that leaves you wondering just who exactly Cage’s surfer actually is.  Unfortunately, the film loses it’s way during its final third and instead becomes a rather mundane thriller.  That said, the cinematography is gorgeous and, if you’re a fan of Cage’s unique style (as I am), this film allows him a chance to get totally unhinged.  I wish the film had stuck with its surreal implications rather than chickening out during the final third but still, The Surfer and Nicolas Cage held my interest.