Shaun Tomson is a Durban-born South African man whose life has been defined by surfing the great waves of the world. It was Tomson and his contemporaries who, through twists of fate that spanned continents, would descend upon the North Coast of Hawaii in 1974 and spearhead the creation of the professional-surfing movement.
Jeremy Gosch’s Bustin’ Down The Door examines one of the most turbulent times in sporting history. Between early 1974 and the Christmas of 1976, bigwave surfing – challenging the 35 foot surges of Pacific Ocean current off Oahu and its surrounds – would have its native Hawaiian traditions confronted and conquered by a new breed of international surfers who brought their own style to the swells of Ehukai Beach (a.k.a. the infamous 'Pipeline’), Waimea Bay and Sunset Beach.
Shaun Thomson and his cousin Michael led the charge, but it was the Down Under brigade of brash 'Bronzed Aussies’ (as they would come to market themselves) that caused the greatest rift in the sports history. Mark Richards, Wayne 'Rabbit’ Bartholemew, Ian Cairns and Peter Townend arrived with determination, ambition and a resolve to succeed, which the local champions (Gerry Lopez, Reno Abilleri, Barry Kanaiaupuni and Jeff Hakman) had never experienced in their share-all, laid-back, love-us-love-our-surf lifestyle.
The film’s title comes from a 1977 article in Surfer magazine (penned by Bartholemew), which challenged the perceived 'stagnant’ state of Hawaiian surfers.
Gosch’s film succinctly captures the cultural slap-to-the-face the piece represented to the local surfers; the 'Black Shorts’, a gang of native islanders determined to preserve the heritage of their sport, responded with their fists. But Gosch’s film doesn’t judge their brutal actions (Bartholemew recounts being beaten on several occasions; he and Cairns were warned by island elders to remain confined to their hotel room for three days); instead, it paints the episode as the final straw for a nation that had been brutalised by American invasion and repatriation from the turn-of-the-century.
The coverage that Bustin’ Down The Door affords the political arguments that launched the pro-surfing movement are thorough and fascinating, but in no way dominate this fine documentary. The promoters that saw the potential of a global surfing championship talk of the marketability of these new, young, international faces (Shaun Tomson, whose chiselled jawline and dazzling smile helped launch many beach brands, was as marketable then as David Beckham is now). The sense of community that brought these surfers together, before 'Rabbit’ Bartholemew wrote his inflammatory article, speaks of the bond the ocean and its forces have for these men – it was this universality that ultimately healed the rift between the Aussies and the Hawaiians. And the archival footage of all the most photogenic aspects of surfing – washboard abs, tiny bikinis and spectacular wipeouts – is lovingly presented.
Most importantly, Bustin’ Down The Door elucidates upon the spirituality of surfing. It is almost a cliché to speak of the sense of purpose that surfing has given to the men that came from distant shores to conquer the monsters to be found at Off-The-Wall, Barrel and Pipeline back in 1974. But it is in the final frames of Gosch’s film that the soul of the surfer is purely defined and made heartbreakingly-real.
Shaun Thomson’s 14 year-old son Mathew took his own life in April 2006, only a matter of months before the 55 year-old surfing great, South Africa’s first world champion, filmed his scenes for this film. When Thomson weeps and speaks of the emotional freedom surfing affords him, and of the bond it strengthens between him and his late son, Gosch’s film achieves its most profound moments.
