If it were possible to distill the heart and soul of the sport--no, the pure lifestyle--of surfing to its perfect form, this documentary has done it. This documentary shows the life isn't just about the waves, but it's more about the people, the pioneers, and the modern day vanguard that are pushing the envelope of big wave further than it's ever been.
Stacy Peralta--a virtual legend from my early '80s skateboarding days as a SoCal teen--has edited reams of amazing stock and interview footage down to their essence and created what is not just a documentary, but a masterpiece of the genre. When his heart and soul is in the subject matter--and clearly it is here--his genius is fraught with a pure vision that doesn't glamorize, hype, or sentimentalize his subject. He reveres surfers and the surfing/beach lifestyle, but doesn't whitewash it either. There is a gritty reality to the sport as well.
There is so much that could be said about this documentary, about the surfers, the early history of the sport, and the wild big wave surfers it profiles. Greg Noll, the first big wave personality who arguably pioneered the sport; Jeff Carter, an amazing guy who rode virtually alone for 15 years on Northern California's extremely dangerous Maverick's big surf; and, the centerpiece of the documentary, Laird Hamliton, big wave surfing's present day messiah.
There is tremendous heart and warmth among all these guys--and a few girls who show up on camera--and a deep and powerful love for surfing and the ocean that comes through in every word. I found the story of how Hamilton's adopted father met him and how Hamilton as a small 4- or 5-year old boy practically forced him to be his dad especially heartwarming (and, again, stripped of syrupy sentimentality).
If you like surfing--or even if you don't--this is a wonderful documentary that must be watched, if only because you're a student of the form or someone who simply appreciates incredibly well-done works of art.

This is a very bland and inert production of one of Shakespeare's most vibrant plays. I can only guess that the intent was to make the play as accessible and understandable as possible to an audience that has not been exposed to Shakespeare before. By doing this, though - by making every line clear and every intent obvious - they have drained the play of life and turned it into a flat caricature. Somehow, it is actually boring - a very hard feat given such wonderful material.
The acting is forgettable at best - Sam Waterston as Benedick and Douglas Watson as Don Pedro. Others, however, do not fare so well. April Shawnham's Hero is a pouty, breathless airhead that frequently provokes winces. Jerry Mayer's Don John is a nonsensical cartoon character on the level of Snidely Whiplash (though Snidley was much more enjoyable).
F. Murray Abraham (you know, the guy who killed Mozart?) is not in this version, unless he was in disguise and had his name removed from the credits.
Given that the producer, Joseph Papp, is basically a theater god, this production is not only disappointing but head-scratching as well.
Don't bother with this. Watch Branagh's Much Ado instead - his version is overflowing with vitality and humor, to say nothing of wonderful performances.