Morning of the earth

I still can't believe that I spent 75 minutes on Sunday night watching this film, Morning Of The Earth, on the Australia Network. I had almost switched off the television but then I began hearing and noting the background music. I was thinking, hey, that's the type of music I was listening to in the late 1960s or early 1970s. Then I started paying attention to the film itself. Heck, an almost surreal videography lesson. Impressive scenes of clouds, the sunrises and sunsets, and of course the wide expanses of the ocean and breakers.

By the time the film had cut to the surfers, I was already hooked. It turned out that this film was made in 1972 with Bali, Australia and Hawaii as the locations. No story line at all but there wasn't a chance for me to get bored. Pangs of regret, maybe, but not bored. The film featured some of the best surfers in the world at that time. Ah, these surfers made the sport seemed so effortless. It was like ballet on water.

So there I was, sitting in front of the telly and watching them surf on and on and on, with the music in the back ground. It's now a classic cult film, no doubt about it

The only disturbing aspect of the film was the cock fight which was always going to be gruesome. It started innocently enough with close-ups of thin, sharp blades being prepared but once I saw them being attached to the claws of the cockerels, I knew what was going to happen next: a battle to the end between two cockerels with the loser ending up in the cooking pot. Literally.