Australian drama Drift’s tangible affinity with the culture and history of surfing is its strongest (but far from only) asset. Co-directors Morgan O’Neill and Ben Nott have captured the landscape and personalities of a time, 40-odd years ago, when a sleepy town on the west coast of the continent became the epicentre of the sport’s global change.
steadfastly likable and quietly compelling
Steeped in that Ocker-istic 'can do’ spirit, and evocative of both time and place, Drift is the true-life story of Andrew Kelly (Myles Pollard, particularly fine) and his younger brother, James (Xavier Samuel), two Sydney lads who, in a stylish monochromatic opening sequence, flee a violent father with their mum, Kat (Robyn Malcolm) and establish a life for themselves in the Margaret River region of Western Australia. Out of necessity, they construct a new form of surfboard and make their own wetsuits, and their handiwork proves popular with the local waxheads.
The brothers’ ambitions to grow the business are stifled by near-sighted bank managers and small-minded small-town cops who think the surfer/hippy lifestyle is a drug-filled waste of time. The greatest threat to the Kelly boys’ dreams is the local bikie gang chapter – headed by a particularly malevolent Steve Bastoni as Miller – which runs a heroin trade with links back to James’ friend Gus (Aaron Glenane, impactful in a small role).
Floating above all this small-town angst is Sam Worthington’s JB, a freelance sports photojournalist whose rainbow-coloured bus rattles into town just as the brothers need a guru-like ally. In tow is Hawaiian surfer-chick Lani (South African born, New Zealand-based actress Lesley-Ann Brandt), whose own passion for life inspires Andrew.
There are certainly familiar beats in O’Neill’s screenplay (he shares story credit with Tim Duffy); the rags-to-riches underdog narrative is hardly a new one. What sets Drift apart is the detail to character and the dexterity with which the production moves through the tropes. The film could very easily have devolved into a cornball family drama/sports soap opera, but it remains both steadfastly likable and quietly compelling throughout.
The pacing stumbles slightly in the third act, when the bikie/drug-running subplot collides with the surf-contest/familial tension story; there is a sense that in trying to honour both strands, the film pushed out its running time unduly. There is also a coda-like wrap-up involving JB that feels like it may have been the quickest way to tie up loose ends.
In most other respects, however, Drift if a terrific piece of local entertainment. As expected, the coastline cinematography of Geoffrey Hall (Chopper, Red Dog) is breathtaking at times, as is the immersive use of ultra-lite camera rigs to capture the surfing action.
