SUNDAY JOINT, 8-24-2025: WE EXPECTED BIG BROTHER – WE GOT GEORGE MICHAEL
Hey All,
If George Orwell's 1984 was assigned to my 10th-grade English class, and it probably was, I have no memory of it. I knew how to get Bs with near-zero effort and would have skated past Orwell like I did everything else at the time apart from surfing, basketball, and rending my Unity Surfboards T-shirt over whatever girl was ignoring me that month.
I already knew that to describe something as "Orwellian" or "Big Brother" or "very 1984" meant the thing in question was futuristic and oppresive and, as we loved to say, heavy. But this slight understanding would have come less from the book and more from Bowie's "1984" and the Diamond Dogs LP on which it appears, with its lurid and unnerving man-dog freakshow cover art. I did not see Bowie perform the song on the Dick Cavett Show—scary enough in its own right, Bowie being a bump or two away from terminal cardiovasular shutdown; watch the clip, you don't know whether to lick his neck or drive him to the ER—but I already had the lyrics down pat, and he's up there singing about oxygen tents and split craniums and how we'll be "shooting up on anything." Was there ever a darker LP on the Billboard Top Ten? I can't think of one offhand.
Anyway, the last thing anyone expected was that 1984, the actual year itself, would in fact end up being, in many ways, culture-wise anyway, so brightly-colored (the pasteled LA Olympics, Cyndi Lauper's eyeshadow, George Michael's shorts, the entire psychedelic My Little Pony stable) and lightweight (Ghostbusters, Dynasty, Hulkamania, a Paul McCartney-Michael Jackson duet that I mercifully have not heard in 40 years). What a transformation! It was like the malign Orwell-Bowie version of 1984 went into hibernation and reemerged during the Reagan-Mondale campaign in parachute pants, mesh top, and a fresh pair of red-framed Vuarnet Cat Eyes.
Surfing did its part. Board decals hit peak density in 1984. Three years past New Wave's expiration date, our graphics generator was still pumping out stripes and triangles and polka-dots. Sundek's new matching nylon-blend "wet look" pants-jacket beachwear combo looked as flammable as a gas leak, which I guess made Jimmy'z velcro-belted shorts seem reasonable by comparison. Sometimes we were gaudy and fun (Catchit did a great Archie Comics-theme ad series), sometimes we were gaudy and stare-you-to-death serious. Seldom were we not gaudy.
Hollywood and almost-Hollywood filmmakers meanwhile threw a grappling hook onto the comic juggernaut that was Jeff Spicoli and added to the 1984 frivolity. The R-rated zombie comedy Surf II came out at the beginning of the year, tanked ("Strictly water on the brain" was the entire review in one paper), returned from the dead years later as a minor cult hit, and in 2021 was even reissued on Blu-ray. I'd probably watch Surf II on a dare. The trailer is fun, the premise works (tormented geek-scientist seeking revenge on surfers who bullied him in high school), the cast is great (Ruth Buzzi from Laugh-In, Cleavon Little from Blazing Saddles, Eric Stoltz from whatever he's been in, nerd king Eddie Deezen), as is the soundtrack (Dick Dale, Ventures, Thomas Dolby, Stray Cats, Oingo Boingo, Split Enz, Wall of Voodoo). Surf II looks like a Porky's-Beach Party-Scream mashup, with trace elements of Andy Warhol's San Diego Surf. So, sure, mute the Oingo Boingo theme song, hit play and let's see how long we last. Shaun Tomson stunt-surfs for one of the good guys. Horshack from Welcome Back, Kotter is in there somewhere. Let's kill some time.
We're on firmer ground, comedy-wise, with Top Secret!, which came out six months after Surf II and had a much better pedigree as it was made by the incredile Zucker-Abrahams-Zucker team (from Wisconsin, like Tom Blake), and we are to this day still riffing on memeing on their deadpan and lightly-surreal machinegun-fast comedy. Top Secret! landed in the middle of ZAZ peak years—after Airplane! and Police Squad!, before Naked Gun—and while it is thought of as a misstep during that period (strong gags, weak core), the highlights are boffo, and young Val Kilmer in his movie debut makes you wish he'd stayed funny instead of instead of going all heavy on Jim Morrison. (Who knows what Kilmer was thinking with Iceman. Dial it a half-millimeter to the left and we're in Leslie Nielsen territory.)
Which gets us to "Skeet Surfing." Top Secret's opening bit is a trend-setting smash hit for pop star Nick Rivers (Kilmer), who is holding down the top three spots on the Top 40 with "Skeet Surfing," "Skeetin' USA," and "Skeet City." (Number Four is Nick Rivers and Tammy Wynette with "You're Skeetin' Heart.") The Skeet surfing fad combines target-shooting and wave-riding, just like it says. The song is done in note-perfect early Beach Boys style, and the lyrics zing:
I've got a gun rack in my Chevy
For when the surf and the flack get heavy
Sharing sunsets with my special girl
When we shoot the curl, we really shoot the curl
The plot, such as it is, takes Rivers behind the Iron Curtain where he falls in love and ends up working with the East German resistance—but all we're doing here is gags and set pieces, and now that I think about it I'd rather just watch Top Secret twice and give Surf II a pass.
Just did a quick read on this Joint before I hit send, and I've maybe come down too hard on 1984. It was everything I said, above, with the silly colors and all, but not a bad year if you were young (23, for example) and at ease in your surfy beach town bubble. California shapers had finally cracked the code for making tri-fins, and all the boards I got that year were excellent. I loved "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go" and still do. Spinal Tap came out in 1984. We giddily turned Tom Curren into our teenaged beardless Moses. My own hair was thick and occasionally moussed, and my arms did not embarrass when I wore a muscle shirt. Could have used some help while picking out new frames at the optician's, and the Celtics beat the Lakers in the NBA finals, but 1984 was a four-star year—even if the stars are in an acid-washed-denim color palette.
Orwell and Bowie were not wrong on the vibe, by the way. They just undershot by 40 years.
Thanks for reading, and see you next week!
Matt
[Photo grid, clockwise from top left: 1974 Diamond Dogs LP; Bird Mahelona, Off-the-Wall, 1984, photo by Aaron Chang; detail from "Big Brother is Watching You" poster used in 1956 film version of 1984; Joey Buran and his sticker-shocked 1984 quiver; cow from Top Secret; Eric Stoltz in Surf II. David Bowie and Dick Cavett. Ad for Catchit, left, and Spectrum Wetsuits. Framegrab from Surf II. Shaun Tomson stunt-surfing in Surf II. Skeet surfing in Top Secret. Val Kilmer in Top Secret. Me at the LA Coliseum, one week before the 1984 Olympics opening ceremonies.]