I've been on my share of tarpon quests. Plenty of fish have sent me home disappointed. I've put them in the air. Been totally beaten up by fish longer than I am tall. I've hung on every word of my tarpon guide, as I tried -- for years-- to connect with one of these fish. And after so many sunburns and near-misses, so many years of babbling like a complete idiot about them to anyone who would listen, I finally caught and released a few of my own. I consider this one of the greatest things I have done -- and that is just on CONVENTIONAL gear. This little movie is totally insane. Insane fish bums -- BUMS!-- hiring insane charter captains, to put them on an insane fish, which they try to catch with the most insane method possible. A fly rod. Just crazy. They are going after a fish that literally swims right out of the water as it tries to get away -- muscling itself upward into the air, higher and higher, water no longer holding it back, twisting and contorting, shaking and rattling and sending spray flying in all directions, all within a hang time worthy of an NFL punt timer. Plus, the fish owns a mouth so tough, a full-sized crab gets crushed inside like popcorn in the maw of a 10-year old. And how are the stars of this little show going after these beasts? With flimsy fly rods and lures made out of feathers. (And man, do they catch the fish.) But don't look for much how-to info. Don't ask why these guys do what they do. If you don't get it, if your jaw doesn't drop when you see a silver submarine slowly pursue an undulating fly, just allow yourself to be wowed by the scenery. (That's pretty easy.) But the Zen of what's going on may be a bit inaccessible to you. This is about finding the ultimate ride. The surfer's perfect wave. Tarpon anglers KNOW what the perfect fish is, and they are looking to connect. Sometimes the fish peers at an offering and just speeds off into the depths, unimpressed. Sometimes one bites what you threw at it, storms off 100 yards or more and ditches a hook that couldn't hang on. Other times, the gear measures up to the task and the lucky angler is rewarded with a big beautiful thing by the side of the boat. Chasing Silver is tarpon fishing distilled down to its elements most raw: There's a guy with a stick. He's being moved along on a floating platform by another guy with a bigger stick. And they're after the most incredible fish anyone could ever imagine. Yeah, it's the perfect wave. The tarpon is the hot-rodder's ultimate muscle car, complete with all the flashy chrome and zero-to-60 punch. And does the movie capture the spirit of it all? Yup. It does. It's not perfect, mind you, but it is niiiiiice. The fly anglers are at the top of their game, and unless you have tried to cast in the wind, had clients snag your person with errant flies, or done any of the other insane little facets for yourself, what these guys are doing comes off looking deceptively easy to do. Even though plenty of fish do get away, the guides are so good at finding more, the casts and presentations are so dead on, and things look so easy, you are there watching and thinking that the next hookup is a matter of seconds away. It doesn't really sink in that the main angler, Andy Mill, goes 28 down before finding success and unhooking a tarpon he brings in. (Most fish manage to unhook themselves, thank you very much). The only clue you really get on how unpredictable and difficult these fish are to capture is by paying close attention to the camera work. Sometimes the footage is perfect, with angler and fish framed beautifully. And it's art. But, more interestingly, there are plenty of times where the cinematographer blows it. A fish jumps and the camera can't follow, so a head gets cut off. Or, after a long run, the fish comes up AND SHOULD GET ON CAMERA. Unfortunately, the cameraman still is focusing on the angler, who, of course, is screaming with delight on an incredible jump that the camera has totally missed. So this all leaves us, the dumbfounded audience, wishing we had seen the elusive fish do what it does best. But we missed it all! The cameraman was right there, wasn't he? -- why was it so hard to capture the moment? What in God's name is that man yelling about and why can't we see it, too? When that happens, folks, don't blame the camera guy -- this is the nature of the fish...they are even hard to catch on video. They won't be caught in every frame. There is something too wild, too primal to make things fit all neatly into every shot. But it's campy fun. The chemistry between characters rivals the best of the cop buddy-flicks. And when the action isn't too fast and furious, and production has a chance to slow things down and plan the shots, the scenery is just un-real (particularly the bird's-eye shots from above, showing the expanse of the flats or schools of fish on the move). Mindblowing. I told you that it took me years to catch my tarpon. I thought I had brought some closure to my obsession. But after seeing this film, I know what I must now do. I need a fly rod and those flies and a very patient charter captain to show me the way. There is nothing I can do but join the insanity now. My new tarpon quest begins with this little gem and that is the highest praise I can pay it. Wonderful job, Mr. Howard. Give me more.
Review of Chasing Silver: A Tarpon Journey
