Film Review: ‘Hundreds of Beavers’ is a Wildly Entertaining Slapstick Sensation

They say that humor is subjective, and that’s certainly true to an extent. Some like their jokes broad and juvenile, others prefer a more refined and witty approach, and there are infinite shades of gray in between. So keep this in mind when I say that regardless of your personal taste, there is nobody that I wouldn’t recommend Hundreds of Beavers to. One of the funniest films I’ve ever seen, and perhaps pound-for-pound one of the funniest films ever made, the sheer entertainment value to be had in this pseudo-silent slapstick spectacular is nearly unparalleled in the modern cinema landscape.

The reason this low-budget, lovingly assembled barrage of gags works so well has everything to do with both its wildly varying sources of inspiration, and the ingenious ways in which it remixes them to craft something wholly unique. First-time director Mike Cheslik and producer Ryland Brickson Cole Tews (who co-wrote the script, and previously collaborated on the aesthetically similar Lake Michigan Monster) wear their influences proudly on their sleeves, while never becoming slaves to the tropes that they liberally pull from to concoct something that has its DNA reaching all the way back to the dawn of cinema.

Their story follows the unconventional hero’s journey of Jean Kayak (played with rubber-faced charisma and impeccable comic timing by Tews). A 19^th century applejack salesman with an unfortunate habit of getting plastered on his own product, Kayak’s misadventures are introduced via a rousingly animated musical number that also represents the vast majority of spoken words throughout the films. When his dispensary is sabotaged by some rambunctious beavers with nefarious designs of their own, Kayak finds himself without a reliable source of food, shelter, or income.

After a brief period of hibernation, he awakens in the freezing winter with little more than the clothes on his back. His first order of business is to find some nourishment by hunting the local wildlife (an ensemble of rabbits, racoons, wolves, skunks, and of course beavers, all played by adults in mascot costumes). Though initially rather hopeless in the ways of the wilderness, Kayak is both resilient and resourceful, and eventually learns the fur trapping trade from a local master (Wes Tank). He also encounters a friendly Indian (Luis Rico) and a curmudgeonly merchant (Doug Mancheski), before setting his sights on the love of the latter’s mischievous furrier daughter (Olivia Graves).

Shot in richly textured black-and-white within the forests of Wisconsin and Michigan, an immediate visual comparison can be made to the comedic masterworks of the silent era. Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin, and Harold Lloyd all come to mind. But while there’s plenty of pratfalls and amusingly wordless mimed conversations to go around, many of the film’s conflicts and physical humor also feel drawn from classic Looney Tunes cartoons, specifically those from the Chuck Jones era. The execution of the slapstick ranges from Three Stooges to Evil Dead and everywhere in between, creating a comical mosaic that feels downright elemental in its use of the cinematic language to render laughs.

But the callbacks don’t stop there. A decidedly modern touch that elevates Hundreds of Beavers beyond mere pastiche is its surprising implementation of various video game mechanics. Indeed, much of the episodic story progression evolves in a way that hearkens directly to the interactive medium. An animated map recalls the top-down hub worlds of early Super Mario entries. The merchant and his store layout are pulled straight from The Legend of Zelda. Punctuation marks appear over the characters’ heads in a manner reminiscent of Metal Gear Solid. A late action beat feels distinctly modeled on a game of Frogger. And this is to say nothing of set pieces that bring to mind everything from Star Wars to Voltron, as well as digital effects work and animation that creates a visual rhythm akin to Sin City by way of Adult Swim.

In lesser filmmaker’s hands, this smorgasbord of implied and perceived references would threaten to drown any potential engagement with the narrative. But like Quentin Tarantino before them, Cheslik and Tews weave their wildly disparate touchpoints into a cohesive style that feels distinctly their own. It helps that they’ve structured their cavalcade of buffoonery around a deceptively simple scenario that gradually builds and expands upon itself with impossibly Rube Goldbergian precision. Jokes that are decidedly low-brow on the surface have a way of recurring and reinventing themselves, with dozens and dozens of setups that evolve into increasingly elaborate payoffs. Each gag is permitted time to breathe without ever overstaying its welcome.

It would be a crime to spoil any of them here, or to get into just how the many, many beavers factor into the plot. Suffice it to say that the title is no exaggeration. Part of the magic is a constant, unrelenting element of surprise that takes whatever expectations one might have and defiantly subverting them again and again. The sheer volume of bits on display is as impressive as just how many of them land. Even if a particular joke might fall flat for you, within 10-30 seconds there’s likely to be another that either replaces or improves upon what came before. And even when the film might appear to be slowing down in the midsection, it eventually reveals just how carefully it was laying the foundation for the avalanche of silliness that follows.

Filmed over the course of four years and coming off the end of a nearly two-year festival run, Hundreds of Beavers is an obvious labor of handcrafted love that oozes passion out of every ridiculous frame. It has slowly and steadily built up a sturdy fanbase thanks to interactive local screenings and a savvy social media presence, and has all the hallmarks of a beloved midnight movie that is likely to enjoy limited theatrical circulation for many years to come. I can personally attest to how well it plays with a crowd, and even after its impending release on digital platforms, it comes highly recommended as the centerpiece of any movie nights you might be putting together. Gather some friends and some drinks, and get ready to bust a gut as the non-stop hilarity ensues.

SCORE: ★★★★

Hundreds of Beavers will be available to rent or purchase on Prime Video and Apple TV on April 15^th, and will be an SVOD exclusive on Fandor beginning April 19^th.