USA
4*
Director:
Benh Zeitlin
Screenwriters:
Lucy Alibar
Benh Zeitlin
Director of Photography:
Ben Richardson
Running time: 93 minutes
Beasts of the Southern Wild is a masterfully directed piece of naturalism that puts under the microscope nature and the people who treat it as a friend, even a relative, as it weaves together their daily routines in a way that integrates magical fantasy with hard reality. If you are looking for a strong narrative, you will not find it here, but the power of the film’s intimacy with its characters and their dreams is outstanding.
The film is all the more remarkable for being the début feature of Benh Zeitlin, who co-wrote the screenplay and contributed to the majestic score that often adds a very distinct dash of optimism to the events. Zeitlin’s film, set on the bayou around New Orleans, shows an encouraging affinity to George Washington, David Gordon Green’s strong and perceptive first feature released in 2000, which took place in North Carolina and whose plot was limited to small but meaningful interactions between children. Green’s film generated a lot of critical praise at the time for its honest depiction of children living in poverty and the world they create for themselves to make their physical and social circumstances bearable.
Zeitlin approaches his subjects — a 6-year-old girl called Hushpuppy (played by the astonishing first-time performer Quvenzhané Wallis) and her sickly father, Wink — with understanding and curiosity, and the story never seems contrived or judgmental. Such compassion for the characters is not seen very often on film, but Zeitlin has the gift to evoke our empathy with his interest.
The plot is almost secondary to the cohesive network of very naturalistic overtones onscreen, though the events are certainly significant. Around the time of a hurricane, which may or may not be Katrina, on a bayou around New Orleans called “The Bathtub”, Hushpuppy and Wink do their best to survive the daily turmoil of living in poverty. As Hushpuppy’s mother is no longer with them, the girl speaks to her mother’s clothes, which seem to speak back in very unsentimental tones.
The film contains one of the most tension-laden hurricane scenes I have ever seen. Short though it is, mostly relying on the sound of the constant rush of water from the ceiling of Hushpuppy’s and Wink’s makeshift shack in the forest, it packs a punch and reminds us of the profound effect a strong soundtrack can have on the audience.
The reality of the characters comprises their immediate surroundings but also their fantasies and their memories, and the representation of these is captivating, even hypnotic. We are introduced, early on in the film, to enormous fabled creatures called Aurochs that pique Hushpuppy’s interest in the mythical. Whether they are real, and what exactly they might represent, is open to interpretation, but their presence is a surprising yet wholly justifiable tactic that supports an ever so slight magical-realist ambience. This is strengthened by imagery such as characters constructing a houseboat on the high waters brought by the hurricane, calling to mind Noah’s Ark.
The young Wallis never sets a foot wrong as her character is self-confident and focused without being smart-alecky or playing older than her age. It is a shame, however, that the screenplay doesn’t expand her character so that we may know more about her friendships beyond the confines of the crude quarters Hushpuppy and her father call home.
But the way in which her point of view is communicated to us cannot be faulted. It is her own — rather than a generic “childlike” — perspective, as very intimate details are related with images and sounds that echo her own emotions. When Hushpuppy puts her ear to the chest of a pig or a chicken, she (and we, too) can hear the heartbeat of the animals. And the fragments of memories that she has of her mother, that she either personally witnessed or was told of by her father, are infused with a very openly romanticized sensibility that tells us something about the characters as well as the actual events.
From what we can gather, Hushpuppy’s father tries to raise her as a boy, always calling her “dude” or “man” and engaging in arm-wrestling matches with her. This line of thought isn’t really pursued by the director, but certainly contributes to a feeling that these individuals have more history and complexity to them than films generally tend to demonstrate.
Beasts of the Southern Wild is very moving most of the way and elicits wonder and admiration rather than excitement, especially when the action moves to less gritty locations such as an underground nightclub or a FEMA shelter.
As the ice caps melt, Hushpuppy tells us in voiceover that the world relies on its many parts fitting together just right. The narration is well-executed and effective, but the words don’t cast quite the same spell as those of characters in David Gordon Green’s films.
The film is a remarkable achievement for a first effort, and though a tighter narrative would have helped the viewer latch on more firmly to the events onscreen, this is an auspicious start to a great career in storytelling.
This is a slightly modified version of the writer’s review that first appeared in The Prague Post.