Wind

Wind sometimes dawdles, but it’s a sports movie with soul.

Although the reality of the America's Cup series is that it seems elitist and removed from the sweaty tumult of sports in general, Wind succeeds in turning the competition into one that is intense, pictorially compelling and intelligible in terms of basic racing maneuvers. [11 Sep 1992, p.C1]

Wind is quite content to keep things at the visual and visceral level, and on that unambitious but highly photogenic plane it's a handsome piece of salt-water escapism. When those sails start popping as they're slapped with gusts of sea air and the tacking gets intense, Wind gives you an adrenaline-filled ride. [11 Sep 1992, p.37]

There is an elemental majesty to sailing that Ballard and his daring crew have magically transferred to the screen, and the consummate skills of the racing crews are a marvel to behold. Still, it's clear that the magic of Wind is in the wind itself, and not always in the movie that blows around it. [11 Sep 1992, p.22]

Ballard has infused Wind with an old-fashioned romantic sentimentality that is affecting from time to time. But this and everything else that is good about the picture fights an ultimately losing battle against an inept story that feels like it was constructed from bits and pieces of other, presumably more involving films. It's a shame that director Ballard, who has gone many years between features, has had to set out this time in such a leaky and unsound vessel.

Wind only hits full stride during the racing sequences, filmed with stunning authenticity by cinematographer John Toll. This movie should be a shoo-in for an Oscar nomination for Toll's work. But there hasn't been such a threadbare film so dependent upon its camera work since Days of Heaven. [11 Sep 1992, p.10]

Ballard made The Black Stallion and Never Cry Wolf, and he's good with spectacle;: His second-unit crew this time found ways to shoot the controlled violence of big sails in good wind that take the breath away. But the rest of Wind is just out there flapping. What a mess. [14 Sep 1992, p.C5]