Blue Crush review

Surfing's not figured much in mainstream cinema since 1991's Point Break. Brit effort Blue Juice was a no-goer the moment they announced the location - Newquay's no Bondi Beach. But now Blue Crush has swept onto our shores.

It's the deliciously vacuous tale of one girl and her need to surf mountainous waves. Anne Marie (Kate Bosworth) is gearing up for a surf competition in Hawaii when she's distracted by a hunksome footballer (Matthew Davis). There's also the small matter of inner demons to be faced, the competition taking place at the same spot where Anne Marie was almost fatally grated by rocks only a few months earlier.

So far, so teen trauma, but Blue Crush is hardly ashamed of its fibreglass-lite plot. There's no cod mysticism, just an endearing, unpretentious tone with lots of frank references to sex and... Well, loads more sex.

Which brings us to Bosworth. She may not be the most scintillating actress currently making a splash in Hollywood, but she sure looks good in a swimsuit. And director John Stockwell (Crazy/Beautiful) knows exactly what Blue Crush's biggest strength is. So we get Bosworth and her bikini-clad friends looking fabulously toned, paddling and gliding their way through some dazzling underwater shots.

You want more from a movie? Well, there is an aspirational girl-power message buried somewhere amid the sand and flesh, and the frothy script is lent a touch more drive by the ever-edgy Michelle Rodriguez as Anne Marie's training partner. But that's your lot - unless you get your kicks from obese American footballers lolling around in hula skirts...