John Milius's militant conservatism is somewhat subdued in this movie, though the movie was clearly made with a sense of nostalgia for a time when women and African-Americans knew their subjugated place and stayed there, and when going off to die pointlessly in an immoral war was seen as heroic and poignant. It's a film in which people who behave cruelly and stupidly are supposed to be viewed as charming. The script for the film is crude, predictable, and often unintentionally funny, especially in the portentous voice-over sections. The martial soundtrack, which tries to give the movie weight it otherwise lacks, is also unintentionally funny (I dare you not to laugh at the end when our three buddy-boy surfers march into the waves as to war, drums and trumpets blaring all up and down the beach). The performances are one-dimensional, though that's probably more the fault of the script than the actors. On the up side, the bodies are beautiful. Jan-Michael Vincent takes his shirt off as often as possible (as he tended to do in his younger days), and William Katt's youthful sculpted chest was a match for Vincent's. There's some great footage of water, and some fine surfing, though not enough for my taste. The climactic, final surf-scene is worth watching, despite the angsty bromance you have to endure to get there. It might be better with the sound off.