Drift

[Dana]

Drift
A Confluence Films Production
Produced by Jim Klug Written and Narrated by Tom Bie Directed by Chris Patterson

A couple of weeks back a copy of the new film Drift arrived in my mailbox. This was right around the time of the Steelhead Society AGM so I didn’t get a chance to really look at it until the past week. Typically when I watch a non-instructional film I look at it once straight through to get a sense of how it will be experienced without the eye of the critic interfering. Then I record my initial impressions. Later I will sit down again and watch it several more times, sometimes all the way through, others in segments so I can analyse the film’s discrete parts and then relate them to the whole.

To be quite honest I didn’t know what to expect from Drift. Written by The Drake magazine’s Tom Bie, and directed by veteran Warren Miller ski movie cinematographer Chris Patterson, I half expected yet another attempt at an extreme ski/snowboarding movie with flyrods, featuring a collection of eccentrics looking for the ragged edge of flyfishing. Despite the fact that I’m staring down middle age (I’ll be 45 in March), I enjoy this kind of film because they’re fun and challenge me to re-think my own ideas about flyfishing, reminding me that in this sport there’s room for everyone, including the flyfishing versions of Jeff Spicoli and Glen Plake. And so with this in mind I sat down beer in hand on a rainy Vancouver night to watch Drift.

From it’s opening moments Drift let’s you know that this is indeed a different kind of flyfishing film—at least different from what we often see today. Lyrical images and a haunting score grace the first two minutes of the film. A few of those images could easily stand on their own as landscape stills—beautifully composed and with attention to color and contrast not often seen in fishing videos, captured by someone with an artist’s eye.

Satisfied as I was with the credit sequence, if the opening had left me with any doubt that this was a film worth devoting an hour to, the first segment swept it all away. The initial slow-motion shot of an angler silhouetted against a desert mountain walking with a spey rod resting on his shoulder immediately grabbed my attention, and the next 10 minutes spent with John and Amy Hazel on the Deschutes speycasting for steelhead made me glad I ordered the film. Part knowledge, part skill, both heartfelt and cerebral, The Deschutes sequence captures steelheading as philosophy. The reverence that exists for fish, river and cast is made clear. The Hazel’s speycast their way down the Deschutes in all weather conditions, and the few steelhead that come to hand are both validations and revelations of the steelheader’s ultimate quest, beautifully articulated by John Hazel in his definition of good steelheading near the end of the piece, a definition that should be framed above your desk or taped to the dash of your fishing rig.

The remaining 50 minutes or so of the film take us to Belize to fish permit with Brian O’Keefe, to western trout rivers to fish with guides relaxing during the off season, to the Bahamas for bonefish, and finally to the Kashmir region of India to fish for trout with guides from the Henry’s Fork. While each is a unique and enjoyable expression of what it means to flyfish, my favorite segment revolves around “Bonefish” Charlie Smith. Legendary angler, guide, flytier, musician, and singer, earlier Smith was profiled in Jamie Howard’s bonefishing film In Search of Rising Tide, but Drift allows us to spend time on the water with the legend and see the fish and the fishing through his eyes. Smith’s singular approach to the stress of guiding and his dockside banjo picking are a highlight of the film and not to be missed.

Drift brings together all of the elements that make flyfishing what it is today—history, tradition, poetry and the search for meaning, with a sprinkle of post-modern edginess. High production values, an inspired narrative track, and a courageous willingness to resurface the classic sensibilities that define flyfishing without indulging in cliché or sentimentality make Drift a film to see.

[LoloPass]

I saw the trailer for Drift last spring posted on the Deschutes Anglers website so I pre-ordered the DVD. I agree with Dana that the cinematography and care in capturing the essence of fly fishing sets this film apart.

I have the Hazel's instructional DVD's but this one is on another level and really communicates the philosophy and passion for steelheading beautifully.

At one point John Hazel sums up the pursuit of steelhead, saying that mostly what you can expect from this sport is "to fish great water well...and then you fish the next piece of great water well...and the next piece...the water seduces you."

[fishcuz]

Amen! And again I say amen!
Drift showed up in my mail box just before Christmas with a gift receipt, and I have yet to discover the giver, but I thank them. I am a lifelong salmon and steelheader, but a recent convert to speycasting. My best fishing friend took up steelheading just two years ago, his only past fly fishing experience being that of high alpine lakes. Watching his progress and immersion in the craft has been a joy and encouragement for me, especially seeing as he has yet to land an adult steelhead (many losses). Even despite this lack of "payoff", he is irrisistibly drawn to the idiosyncrasies of the game, just the stuff mentioned above by Dana. I had him over recently during a period of high water to live vicariously through film, and you can likely guess what we watched. The John and Amy Hazel segment left my friend in tears. Is he just a sap? I don't think so.
We fish because the the water seduces us, and for many other, deeper reasons.
Fishcuz.