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Surfers love bright novelties as much as anyone else, and we’re going to covet the ritual of waxing a new stick with an indeterminate lifespan but infinite potential. But I bet there are enough surfboards in this world right now to suit each and every one of the users who need to assemble one. The social industry that accompanies its creation, acquisition and perpetuation is possibly more vital than its electorate. The surfboard ride, from a block of raw foam in the hands of a man with a ventilation mask to a customer’s car, a surf shop stand and a collector’s garage, is as linear and natural as the essence of surfing itself. At least it can be, too.
Do you know how we know singlefin: yellow is a harvest in intelligent faith? Because it may have been done in 2000 or 2020 and the message is still relevant. California filmmaker Jason Baffa finished his first release in 2003, an era explained through a booming industry that envelops a culture. Follow the mood and movements of an exclusive 9’0 fin stack ” through the reports and perspectives of six surfers: Beau Young, David Kinoshita, Devon Howard, Daize Shayne, Bonga Perkins and, finally, its original creator, The Second Tyler Hatzikian modeler – “Yellow” was born to be assembled, shared and transmitted. From California to Australia to Japan, California, Mexico, Hawaii and back to California, the vehicle dazzles passengers on everything from the mediocre beachbreak to the pumping point to the world’s treacherous 72-minute maximum. reefbreak in easy to digest, as Singlefin: Yellow also works as a series of short films.
“There’s the movie you make, and then there’s the movie that becomes once the audience takes over it,” Baffa told Surfline. “Singlefin: Yellow is definitely an example of that. It’s hard we did it almost 20 years ago, so thank you to everyone who followed you. And thank you to everyone who supported my films, each is a new journey. I’m preparing my first scripted story, and it’s as exciting as getting ready for the first SFY vacation in Byron Bay. I love telling stories, so I appreciate the audience listening to them.”
Surfline has kept Baffa online to give more information.
Surfline: You’re out of the doors swinging for your first movie. What triggered the idea?
Jason Baffa: I wanted to be a filmmaker long before he was looking to be a surfer. I enjoyed the ocean as a child and spent hours doing bodysurfing, but my obsession with surfing came later, when my obsession with movies began when I was about five years old. So short to make a surf movie was actually the manifestation of a greater life ambition to make a film. Someone once said, “Do what you know.” And because I enjoyed riding heavy boards, the task seemed right. I also saw a genuine opportunity, because in 2000, hitale and surfing culture were not very concentrated. Then there was the moment after 9/11. I’d worked a long hours on a TV screen and looked in the mirror, like, “What are you doing with your life? What did you look to do? The answer was simple: make movies. I thought, “Okay, I’m going to make a genuine movie that surfers will love, but I can also play at film festivals, filmed in a movie with a story and an emotion. It’s going to be the endless summer of fashion. Spielberg will order a sequel! [laughs] yes, ignorance is happiness.
We know that he has been heavily influenced by filmmakers such as Brown, MacGillivary-Freeman and Malloy, however, in the early 2000s, shortboard surf pornography still dominated the landscape. What prompted you to do all this and instead adapted a “bus story structure” with the surfboard itself as the protagonist?
He had combined some schemes for films that followed an object, such as a bag of money. As a storyteller, this design has interested me and I also have a strange obsession with inanimate elements. One of my college movies was about a playful scooter that was tracked down by a menacing death truck. It’s a lot of fun to bring those elements to life and watch them become characters that other people applaud. And my main thesis was an adaptation of a short film from a Chris Ahrens short story, “The Effortless Prune,” about an obsession with years of training with a surfboard. So I think all those things played a component in that. But your references are perfect. These were the only surf videos I saw, as well as John Milius’ Big Wednesday and JBrother’s Adrift. Put it all in a blender and you’re done.
How did you gather the cast and locations? Was it based on your own vision, Tyler Hatzikian’s contribution, a mixture of the two or by chance?
Oh, I had to beg Zeke to make the movie with me [laughs]. I think she thought she was crazy, so convincing him came first. On paper, the put were explained in the hope of representing other parts of the longboard culture. I didn’t have enough cash to approve and show everyone, so I looked at key options like California, Hawaii, Australia and Japan. The advertising side of this also made sense: presenting a local from each region and, hopefully, the surfing communities of those regions will adopt the film. I also have to thank the manufacturers CJ Olivares, Chris Merrit and Mark Jeremias for sending me to film surf contests for Fox Sports Bluetorch TV. From the pool at the Rabbit Kekai Classic in Costa Rica to the bevery one bar during a time of tuberiding longboard in Puerto Escondido, I was given the exclusive opportunity to meet these amazing people, and we’ve all become friends. As the film unfolded, I gave them a voice.
All quite natural. Tyler was surprised to see Beau Young surf in Port, and admired Nat for his contribution to surfing, which allowed for a simple and fair transfer. Beau had traveled a lot with David Kinoshita and wanted to send him. Daize a world champion and friends of the band, adding to Bonga, who is a modern duke. Devon Howard worked for Longboard Magazine and was a great help, connecting the dots to make it all work. He’s been a phenomenal best friend and friend, and he’s breaking it.
True. I had been on a car destination turn and earned about $20,000 in insurance (and loss of damage), so I incorporated that into the purchase of the film, the device and the first plane tickets. This allowed me to get started, but I needed more, movie processing and telecine were expensive. So, the VISA. I’d write those credits on car checks myself, which was stupid. I do not propose this approach, but it has allowed me to continue. You should not forget that I was not paid to do this, so bills, fitness insurance, rent, car bills, everything accumulates over time. I hit a wall, like, “Oh, my God, I’ve run out of money! How do I end this? Fortunately, I had enough footage to record a preview.
This Carl Cramer haircut is the same trailer that’s online today, about 20 years later. It makes me goosebumps. And I have to say that few surf movies in 2002-03 had movie trailers, however, I knew that a smart movie would help me sell the allowance to investors. My sister, a Stanford graduate with a UCLA MBA, helped me write a business plan. So I took this and the advance and sent it to my friends, adding Mark Jeremias, who was a supporter from the beginning. At the time of the DVD, Mark and his brother Stefan were looking to distribute surf movies under Build Worldwide and Sea Crown Ventures, so they helped refine my business plan with a genuine DVD release strategy. The rest came here from the circle of family and friends seeking help. Basically, I sold them part of my property, paid the debt and finished the movie. But the hardest component was going to my parents’ house to save money. I don’t forget that Mark said, “Every month of rent on the beach is a plane ticket,” so I moved inland. Painful, but it was full.
What other demanding situations did the production reveal?
An incident stands out, a questionable debacle that is not occasionally talked about. Bonga and I had spent the day on the south coast, ten hours photographing a southern Hemi pumping under the tropical sun. We loaded his truck in the dark for dinner near the Ala Moana mall, and when we got the house, I knew my backpack was gone, with all my Bolex equipment and the whole movie that day. Stolen? Lost? Honestly, I don’t know. I went away thinking I’d never see him again, and Bonga said, “I’m going to put it on the coconut telegraph, it’s a small island.” A week later, at my home in California, I won a call from the Honolulu Police Department saying that someone who had asked to remain anonymous had returned my backpack, with all the filming equipment, the film and my business card. There was nothing missing and they gave it back to me! A wonderful mahalo for Bonga and anyone else would have possibly helped. It was pretty special. And a lot of those photographs ended up in the movie.
Speaking of which, if photographers were filming in Hawaii in 2003-04 and had 35mm frames of Bonga’s query on Yellow, send me an image [laughs] … Seriously, it’s going to have to exist somewhere.
Shot in a 16mm film, cinematography is arguably Singlefin’s greatest charm: Yellow. What exactly did Scott Kassenoff and Mike Prickett bring to the table?
I love those two boys. Scotty is an old friend and a year after making the film, I met him at In-N-Out Burger. He showed up for a swim and I said, “It would be amazing because I don’t have a video on the water!” He added a lot with his bodies of water, and is an experienced filmmaker who has worked in lots and lots of commercials. It’s wonderful to have someone like that by your side. And Prickett honestly kept the film. He drew some water when I was in Hawaii, because Scott couldn’t make that trip, however, the heroic effort came when Pipeline arrived in April and I had no herera. He said, “Yes, brother, come and get my ARRI SR2.” I ran, grabbed 3 huge boxes and Bonga and I took everything straight to Pipe. Without Mike Prickett, the entire Bonga pipe query might not have been documented.
If the plot is undeniable enough, the film meanders towards various themes, delivered through the unique non-public delight of each of the characters: minimalism; anti-consumption; Escape; aloha; Freedom; open-minded … what’s the only thing you’d like other Singlefin people to do: yellow?
Decidedly, you’re like the Elvis Mitchell of surf movies! Suddenly I’m on a filmmaker’s treatment [laughs]. I love it! I think the good looks of engaging with other people’s appeal and presenting their personality in the film really helped shape one’s themes. My mantra throughout the production was to show the young audience that, thanks to our love of the waves, we are all connected. We’re one. No matter what you choose to ride, where you come from, how you look or what you’re in, our ocean-hooked pastime envelops us in a larger tribe, and we’ll have to recognize and respect it. Know your story and respect it. Especially the craftsmen who put the joy and wisdom that has been passed on to them in the cars we drive. Does a surfboard have a soul? I’m actually that.
Has there been any elements of that delight in which he has maintained his career as a filmmaker and that he could possibly have applied to his own production company, Jason Baffa Films? In other words, what kind of professional style did Singlefin: Yellow offer you?
This explained my technique for making independent films. We use the same business plan in all our surf videos (SFY, One California Day, Bella Vita), and some investors accompanied me on each movie. It’s pretty amazing, so thank you so much to my sister for come up with a fake business plan. However, a recommendation for young filmmakers: in retrospect, I would have liked to build a small studio to produce all the films, where investors invest in the studio. But independent films sometimes accumulate project-by-project capital, so that’s what we did. I also continued to use this same Bolex camera and established glorious collaborations. My old friend and film editor, Carl Cramer, cut all my films and added our recent documentary about golf caddies, Loopers: The Caddie’s Long Walk. Scott Kassenoff played a vital role in One California Day’s photography and was Bella Vita’s director of photography. These relationships have contributed to my career. But Array, I think the movie itself just opened the doors for me. This allowed me to enter the room with manufacturers and creatives to eventually target ads and provide new projects. SFY started it all for me.
What’s your biggest memory of making this movie?
It’s hard … Maybe the premiere at the Lido Theatre in Newport Beach. I was literally editing the final list of names in Chris Merrit is house studio a few hours earlier. We were spitting out the last edition and receiving text messages indicating that other people were already on a line that was going around the block. I drove so hot, Film Master in hand. The theater was full, the lights went out, the movie went on, and every single element fell silent, the guy next to me eating popcorn, each and every fucking bite creaking in my ear, was horrible. I haven’t sat in a seat to watch for the first time since. I don’t forget to think, “Damn, he’s quiet. They hate it. Then, Yellow’s last diabolical blow in the store, the credits went up and there was a roar of applause. It was as if the weight of the global had been taken from me. People were so excited. I thought, “It’s okay. We’ve done it. I think we have something special here.
The film ends with a yellow tired of the global in the used stand for sale in a surf shop. Who ended up buying it?
Oh, there have been rumors … Old Yellow was placed on the French Riviera, circling like a pool toy for a model organization, the jet-set used it for a floating cocktail bar. Another attached him to an old Land Cruiser hunting breakpoints in South America. A third saw him drinking margaritas at a Mexican food stand in El Segundo. It’s hard to say, really. All I know is that one day, faster or later, I’ll have a space with a great position for Amarillo. And I’m going to take him home.
Surfers love bright novelties as much as anyone else, and we’re going to covet the ritual of waxing a new stick with an indeterminate lifespan but infinite potential. But I bet there are enough surfboards in this world right now to suit each and every one of the users who need to assemble one. The social industry that accompanies its creation, acquisition and perpetuation is possibly more vital than its electorate. The surfboard ride, from a block of raw foam in the hands of a man with a ventilation mask to a customer’s car, a surf shop stand and a collector’s garage, is as linear and natural as the essence of surfing itself. At least it can be, too.
Do you know how we know singlefin: yellow is a harvest in intelligent faith? Because it may have been done in 2000 or 2020 and the message is still relevant. California filmmaker Jason Baffa finished his first release in 2003, an era explained through a booming industry that envelops a culture. Follow the moods and movements of a 9’0 pilet ” through the reports and perspectives of six surfers: Beau Young, David Kinoshita, Devon Howard, Daize Shayne, Bonga Perkins and, finally, its original creator, The Second Shaper Tyler Hatzikian – “Yellow” was born to be assembled, shared and broadcast. From California to Australia to Japan, California, Mexico, Hawaii and back to California, the vehicle dazzles passengers on everything from the mediocre beachbreak to the pumping point and the world’s treacherous maximum. -minute reefbreak in easy to digest, like Singlefin: Yellow also works as a series of short films.
“There’s the movie you make, and then there’s the movie that becomes once the audience takes over it,” Baffa told Surfline. “Singlefin: Yellow is definitely an example of that. It’s hard we did it almost 20 years ago, so thank you to everyone who followed you. And thank you to everyone who supported my films, each is a new journey. I’m preparing my first scripted story, and it’s as exciting as getting ready for the first SFY vacation in Byron Bay. I love telling stories, so I appreciate the audience listening to them.”
Surfline has kept Baffa online to give more information.
Surfline: You’re out of the doors swinging for your first movie. What triggered the idea?
Jason Baffa: I wanted to be a filmmaker long before he was looking to be a surfer. I enjoyed the ocean as a child and spent hours bodysurfing, but my obsession with surfing came later, when my obsession with movies began around the age of five. So short to make a surf movie was actually the manifestation of a greater life ambition to make a film. Someone once said, “Do what you know.” And because I enjoyed riding heavy longboards, the task seemed right. I also saw a genuine opportunity, because in 2000, hitale and surfing culture hadn’t been too concentrated. Then there was the moment after 9/11. I spent many hours on a TV screen and looked in the mirror, like, “What are you doing with your life? What did you look to do? The answer was simple: make movies. I thought, “Okay, I’m going to make a genuine movie that surfers will love, but I can also play at film festivals, filmed in a movie with a story and an emotion. It’s going to be the endless summer of fashion. Spielberg will order a sequel! [laughs] yes, ignorance is happiness.
Monoform yellow
We know that he has been heavily influenced by filmmakers such as Brown, MacGillivary-Freeman and Malloy, however, in the early 2000s, surf porn from short boards still dominated the landscape. What prompted you to do all this and instead adapted a “bus story structure” with the surfboard itself as the protagonist?
He had put in combination some schemes for movies that followed an object, such as a bag of money. As a storyteller, I have been interested in this design, and I also have a strange obsession with inanimate elements. One of my college movies was about a playful scooter that was tracked through a menacing death truck. It’s a lot of fun to bring those elements to life and watch them become characters that other people applaud. And my main thesis was an adaptation of a short film from a Chris Ahrens short story, “The Effortless Prune,” about an obsession with years of training with a surfboard. So I think all those things played a component in that. But your references are perfect. These were the only surf videos I saw, as well as John Milius’ Big Wednesday and JBrother’s Adrift. Put it all in a blender and you’re done.
How did you gather the cast and locations? Was it based on your own vision, Tyler Hatzikian’s contribution, a mixture of the two or by chance?
Oh, I had to beg Zeke to make the movie with me [laughs]. I think she thought she was crazy, so convincing him came first. On paper, the put were explained in the hope of representing other parts of the longboard culture. I didn’t have enough cash to approve and show everyone, so I looked at key options like California, Hawaii, Australia and Japan. The advertising side of this also made sense: presenting a local from each region and, hopefully, the surfing communities of the regions will adopt the film. I also have to thank the manufacturers CJ Olivares, Chris Merrit and Mark Jeremias for sending me to film surf contests for Fox Sports Bluetorch TV. From the pool at the Rabbit Kekai Classic in Costa Rica to the bevery one bar during a time of tuberiding longboard in Puerto Escondido, I was given the exclusive opportunity to meet these amazing people, and we’ve all become friends. As the film unfolded, I gave them a voice.
All quite natural. Tyler was surprised to see Beau Young surf in Port, and admired Nat for his contribution to surfing, which allowed for a simple and fair transfer. Beau had traveled a lot with David Kinoshita and wanted to send him. Daize a world champion and friends of the band, adding to Bonga, who is a modern duke. Devon Howard worked for Longboard Magazine and was a great help, connecting the dots to make it all work. He’s been a phenomenal best friend and friend, and he’s breaking it.
Tyler Hansen.
Is it true that you contacted your circle of family and friends and maximized a credit card to fund the project?
True. I had been on a car destination turn and earned about $20,000 in insurance (and loss of damage), so I incorporated that into the purchase of the film, the device and the first plane tickets. This allowed me to get started, but I needed more, movie processing and telecine were expensive. So, the VISA. I’d write those credits on car checks myself, which was stupid. I do not propose this approach, but it has allowed me to continue. You should not forget that I was not paid to do this, so bills, fitness insurance, rent, car bills, everything accumulates over time. I hit a wall, like, “Oh, my God, I’ve run out of money! How do I end this? Fortunately, I had enough footage to record a preview.
This Carl Cramer haircut is the same trailer that’s online today, about 20 years later. It makes me goosebumps. And I have to say that few surf movies in 2002-03 had movie trailers, however, I knew that a smart movie would help me sell the allowance to investors. My sister, a Stanford graduate with a UCLA MBA, helped me write a business plan. So I took this and the advance and sent it to my friends, adding Mark Jeremias, who was a supporter from the beginning. At the time of the DVD, Mark and his brother Stefan were looking to distribute surf movies under Build Worldwide and Sea Crown Ventures, so they helped refine my business plan with a genuine DVD release strategy. The rest came from the circle of family and friends seeking help. Basically, I sold them part of my property, paid the debt and finished the movie. But the hardest component was going to my parents’ house to save money. I don’t forget that Mark said, “Every month of rent on the beach is a plane ticket,” so I moved inland. Painful, but it was full.
Devon Howard and Jason Baffa.
What other demanding situations did the production reveal?
An incident stands out, a questionable debacle that is not occasionally talked about. Bonga and I had spent the day on the south coast, ten hours photographing a southern Hemi pumping under the tropical sun. We loaded his pick-up truck in the dark for dinner near the Ala Moana mall, and when we got the house, I knew my backpack was gone, along with all my Bolex equipment and the whole movie that day. Stolen? Lost? Honestly, I don’t know. I went away thinking I’d never see him again, and Bonga said, “I’m going to put it on the coconut telegraph, it’s a small island.” A week later, at my home in California, I won a call from the Honolulu Police Department saying that someone who had asked to remain anonymous had returned my backpack, with all the film equipment, the movie and my business card. There was nothing missing and they gave it back to me! A wonderful mahalo for Bonga and anyone else would have possibly helped. It was pretty special. And a lot of those photographs ended up in the movie.
Speaking of which, if photographers were filming in Hawaii in 2003-04 and had 35mm frames from Bonga’s yellow consultation, send me an image [laughs] … Seriously, it’s going to have to exist somewhere.
Devon Howard.
Shot in a 16mm film, cinematography is arguably Singlefin’s greatest charm: Yellow. What exactly did Scott Kassenoff and Mike Prickett bring to the table?
I love those two boys. Scotty is an old friend and a year after making the film, I met him at In-N-Out Burger. He showed up for a swim and I said, “It would be amazing because I don’t have a video on the water!” He added a lot with his bodies of water, and is an experienced filmmaker who has worked in lots and lots of commercials. It’s wonderful to have someone like that by your side. And Prickett honestly kept the film. He drew some water when I was in Hawaii, because Scott couldn’t make that trip, however, the heroic effort came when Pipeline arrived in April and I had no herera. He said, “Yes, brother, come and get my ARRI SR2.” I ran, grabbed 3 huge boxes and Bonga and I took everything straight to Pipe. Without Mike Prickett, the entire Bonga pipe query might not have been documented.
Decidedly, you’re like the Elvis Mitchell of surf movies! Suddenly I’m on a filmmaker’s treatment [laughs]. I love it! I think the good looks of engaging with other people’s appeal and presenting their personality in the film really helped shape one’s themes. My mantra throughout the production was to show the young audience that, thanks to our love of the waves, we are all connected. We’re one. No matter what you choose to ride, where you come from, how you look or what you’re in, our ocean-hooked pastime envelops us in a larger tribe, and we’ll have to recognize and respect it. Know your story and respect it. Especially the craftsmen who strip the joy and wisdom that has been transmitted to them in the cars we drive. Does a surfboard have a soul? I’m actually that.
Monoform yellow