You’ve never seen a film like Hundreds of Beavers
Sick of streaming services recommending you the same kind of stuff? Liam Maguren’s Off the Radar column highlights strange, unique, gimmicky, semi-indescribable titles worthy of your attention. Here, he spotlights ultra-absurd crowd-slaying comedy Hundreds of Beavers.
I’ve been waiting close to a year to write about Hundreds of Beavers. Ever since it gave me laughter-induced abdomen cramps at the 2023 New Zealand Terror-fi Film Festival, I’ve been hankering for a good opportunity to put fingers to keyboards and blast my love for this chaotic comedy contraption. After a lengthy festival run, the film finally sees a home release and a limited cinema run for some lucky regions. My typing hands are ready.
A modern-day silent slapstick comedy running off videogame logic, Hundreds of Beavers presents a blissfully ridiculous depiction of a North American fur trapping district. The film tosses in a drunken applejack salesman (Ryland Brickston Cole Tews) whose business goes kaboom and must now learn the tricks of the trapping trade if he has any hopes of surviving both the wilderness and the dad of the woman he’s trying to impress.
Director Mike Cheslik conjures every visual imaginable from his two most eye-catching conceits: extras in beaver mascot outfits representing actual animals and perhaps the hardest-working copy of Adobe After Effects ever. By “slapping black and white and grain on everything to hide the shoddy compositing work,” as Cheslik humbly puts it, and leaning all the way into its whacky sense of humour, Hundreds of Beavers commits valiantly to a vision that will either turn you away or have you frothing to experience it.
You can list a bunch of inspirations powering the film—from Buster Keaton to Johnny Knoxville, Looney Tunes to The Fabulous Baron Munchausen—but it’s not content on being an imitation of the past masters. Cheslik and Tews, who also have story credit, site Nintendo’s The Legend of Zelda and Super Smash Bros. as relatively contemporary touchpoints, as evident in the “gamified” way Tews’ character learns to become a beaver trapper and well as the downright hilarious fight sequences.
Describing these gags risks revealing the comedic aces this film hides up its long sleeves, but it’s no spoiler to say that those with a taste for the absurd will get the most out of Hundreds of Beavers. For me, the sight of a grown man getting pummeled by a mob of beaver-people and a reoccurring hole-in-the-ground gag are some of the funniest things I’ve seen in years. And I can’t escape this written piece without praising Tews’ talents as a physical comic—the film simply wouldn’t work without his commitment to the art of clowning.
It would be foolish, however, to write off Hundreds of Beavers as just some feature-length joke machine with no real plot. Managing to sustain a 108-minute running time, Cheslik and Tews keep piling on moments that interweave in sneakily impressive ways. What might seem like a simple gag one moment can hold greater significance down the line, not only adding to the growth of the central character but also snowballing into the film’s hectic third act. The film not only gives the gift of constant belly laughs, it also provokes the feeling of deep satisfaction watching all its chaotic elements come together.
This kind of loveable lunacy only seems possible with independent filmmaking energy. Talking to Filmmaker Magazine, Cheslik described the benefit of working smaller for longer: “We don’t believe in a 30-person crew. We don’t believe you should emulate the look of a major Hollywood film. I like the indie game philosophy, where two guys make a whole game with pixel art and pick an aesthetic and a style that matches the scope of their budget and team. We believe in small and slow. Four people over 12 weeks can make a more interesting film than an indie trying to emulate a Hollywood look and only having 10 days.”
The pair’s previous film, Lake Michigan Monster, ran on this philosophy, making the most of a two-year indie production and a $7,000 budget. Perhaps it’s an oxymoron, but Hundreds of Beavers feels like a colossal step up and a massive step forward. At a time where cinematic slapstick feels reserved only for animated films, Cheslik and Tews bust through the wall and leave a perfect imprint of themselves with this live-action slam dunk of a comedy.
If you have a chance to chuckle along with a crowd in a cinema, it’s an absolute must. If not, grab a band of fellow weirdos and share this experience in front of a screen together. One person simply cannot contain the power of this movie.