Mick, Mason, dazzling form…
I enjoy, very much, the new, contemplative Mick Fanning. Contest Mick was a tough sell, his personality impounded deep in his head. Glazed eyes. Grotesque smiles.
But, Mick, here, well outside of the thieving queens and boosting and whatever else of the tour, is radiant. As Mason Ho told me recently, “Style truly does come out when you don’t give a fuck.”
I think this is Mick fanning, now.
Of course I adore, beyond any mortal measure, the artistry of little Mason, the almost-thirty-year-old from Sunset Beach, Hawaii.
Therefore, this eight-minute featurette, which was directed by Vaughan Blakey who made a surf film last year that was so good it made me gasp like a fish, lays a good pinch on the nose.
The narrative is simple: Mick and Mason go surfing empty good waves in Australia. And, like a good buddy film, the director snatches the pair in conversation of the cosmic sort.
Whether it is confected or not is immaterial.
The pair ain’t prissy.
Words flow.
Mick leads.
Mason sings.
If Rip Curl had a little stiffness in the past, the pairing of Mick and Mason as well as Vaughan and his old boss from Tracks, Neil Ridgeway, shakes off the old muumuu and reveals an arsenal of golden curves.
Prepare a speedball and watch.