The phenomenon of Western music and cinema revamping the cultural terrain of far-flung lands is ubiquitous. But in the village of Vanimo it really is the surfboard that is the most ardent ambassador of the West. It serves as both an icon of the Modern World and the mechanism by which the indigenous environment is remodeled.

I never set out to make a "surf movie." My aim with Splinters, rather, is to introduce the viewer to an experiment unfolding in a Petri dish. How the surfboard catalyst will ultimately fuse two disparate worlds together is unknown. Will it be the golden goose that provides a "way out" for emerging surfing talent? Or could it give false hope and usher in the erasure of indigenous heritage while paving the way for commercial exploitation from the West? It is important to me that the film enlivens this debate yet leaves it unresolved.

In the people I filmed I see the Old World/Modern World crossroads personified. Ezekiel's puffed-up surf dream is fed by the promise of Western stardom. With the advent of Western influence, Lesley and Susan could be the beneficiaries of women's rights but at the cost of eroding indigenous "family values." The dream of winning the surfing competition is not only that, it is the dream of achieving status in a modern world. That is the grand prize for the individual surfers and village at the end of the day. The siren song is sweet and much in the same way we might be inclined to idealize paradise, it seems paradise is looking back at us wearing the same rose-colored glasses.

Vanimo is a microcosm. Although castaway and idyllic it is a reminder of the wider world's struggle for "progress." What is lusted after there is no different than here. The reality of that satiny, polished next big thing may not be either.