Look folks, I’ve seen some weird shit in my decades of watching B-movies at cinedomes across the People’s Republik of Kalifornia, but nothing quite prepared me for the absolutely bonkers masterpiece that is 2022 “Hundreds of Beavers.” When a buddy told me to watch a black-and-white silent comedy about a guy fighting sentient beavers, I figured I’d be halfway into a bottle of Wild Turkey before the opening credits finished rolling. Boy howdy, was I wrong.
This ain’t your grandpappy’s silent film, and it sure as shit ain’t Disney’s “Beaver Valley.” This is what happens when you take every Chuck Jones cartoon you’ve ever seen, smash it together with some Buster Keaton films, add just a dash of Jackie Chan, sprinkle in some wacko Nintendo game physics, and then let it all ferment in a barrel of moonshine somewhere in the dark woods of Wisconsin during the dead of winter.
The plot? Well, I’ll try my best here. Our hero, Jean Kayak, is living the high life making hard apple cider until some buck-toothed varmints decide to play demolition derby with his giant booze barrel. Things go downhill faster than a greased-up porta potty on skis, and suddenly our boy’s wearing what’s left of his clothes, trying to catch fish with his own bleeding fingers like some kind of deranged survivalist Pinterest tutorial.
But wait, it gets better. After watching some hotshot trapper rake in the dough, Jean decides to get into the beaver fur business. Only problem is, he ain’t dealing with no regular beavers in his neck of the woods. No sir. These are some next-level, organized-crime, master-builder beavers. They’ve got detectives (I shit you not – Sherlock Holmes: Beaver Edition); they’re building a Tesla level rocket ship (yep, you read that right), and they’ve apparently got enough military training to form themselves into a giant beaver shaped Voltron.
The best part? The beavers are just people in the world’s most ridiculous beaver costumes. We’re talking mascot-level suits that look like they were ordered off Wish.com during a midnight shopping spree. And you know what? It just fucking works. The filmmakers took one look at their $150K budget and said, “Yeeah, screw that farkin’ CGI bull-stuff, let’s just put some dudes in beaver suits and make ’em fight.”
Now, let’s talk about what makes this film special. First off, there’s barely any dialogue. Instead, we get weird grunts, squeaks, and whatever sound effects the foley artist could make with a plastic kazoo, hawk-tuah and a dirty box of broken Trojans. The whole thing plays out like a live-action cartoon, complete with sight gags that would make Tex Avery weep with joy.
Our boy, Ryland Tews (who also co-wrote this beautiful disaster), throws himself into every physical gag like he’s auditioning for a Jackie Chan movie directed by the Three Stooges. This dude gets the shite kicked out of him by angry beavers, gets chased down by wolves and falls down more inconvenient holes than Alice in Wonderland, but somehow makes it all look equal parts painful and hilarious.
And can we talk about the visuals? Shot in glorious black-and-white, the film looks like what would happen if David Lynch decided to make a slapstick comedy romance about the hilarious 19th century fur trade. The backgrounds are a mix of real locations and what appears to be some hand-drawn stuff that somebody’s cousin named Earl made in Adobe After Effects. Again, it absolutely works.
The second act turns into something straight out of an old school Nintendo game, complete with power-ups, side quests, and a trading system that would make any DND player splooge their shorts. Our hero’s literally grinding for coin by catching increasingly difficult animals, all while trying to impress the local merchant’s daughter (who, by the way, is the only person in this wonderous mess who seems to know she’s in a VERY different kind of movie).
Now, I’ve seen a lot of independent films try to be “quirky” and “different” – usually involving some hipster sad sack ‘mo-fro in wide-rimmed ironic glasses having a blubbering existential crisis in Brooklyn, NY. But this? This is genuine, unfiltered, batshit creativity. Director Mike Cheslik and his crew weren’t trying to be weird for weird’s sake; they were just making the movie they wanted to see, and apparently what they wanted to see was a man fighting hundreds of beavers who happen to be tilting up a space program.
The whole thing culminates in a chase sequence that has to be seen to be believed. Remember that snowball that keeps getting bigger rolling down the hill in your saturday morning cartoons? Now imagine that, but it’s full of dead beavers, and it’s being chased by a giant beaver monster made of smaller beavers, while an Indian (of the feather variety) shoots a grappling hook at a rocket made from a beer barrel. If that sentence doesn’t make you want to watch DEMAND to see this movie, I don’t know what the hell will.
Look, I’m not going to sit here and tell you this is “Citizen Kane.” It’s not. It’s actually better. It’s the kind of movie that could only be made by people who love cinema enough to know all the rules, and are confident enough to break every single fucking one of them with maniacal glee. It’s what happens when talented filmmakers decide to make exactly the movie they want to make, with zero concern for market research or focus groups or what some smarmy swamp turd in Hollywood thinks will “play well in Peoria.”
The fact that this thing even exists is a miracle. The fact that it’s actually good is a gold-durn revelation. This is the kind of movie that reminds you why you fell in love with movies in the first place – because sometimes, magic happens when you give creative people a camera, a racksful of decidedly rank beaver costumes, and the freedom to be completely, unabashedly weird.
Final verdict: Four out of four jugs of ‘shine. This is a genuine American independent film that deserves your attention and your hard earn dollars/crypto magic bucks. Support this kind of lunacy, because God knows we need more of it in this barren world of cash-grab cape movies and predictable jump scare shit shows.
Pro tips: Watch it with friends. Watch it with your favourite beer. Hell, watch it with friends wearing beaver costumes while drinking your favourite beer and nibbling on the finest of Mendocino grown edibles. Just watch the damn thing. Pretty please with sugar on top.
Drive-in totals? Nah, I lost count somewhere between the third Harry Beaver detective scene and the lone wolf attack. Sorry about that. Just know that by the end, your brain will be thoroughly scrambled, and you’ll be better for it.
And remember, the Drive-in will NEVER Die, especially not as long as people are making batshit crazy movies like this one.