Beasts of the Southern Wild

I’ll come right out and say it: Beasts of the Southern Wild is one of the best movies I have ever seen. It blurs the lines between fantasy and reality, man and woman, beauty and ugliness, adult and child and nature and society in a way that, by the end of the film, leaves the ingrained dichotomies of human life behind. This departure from typical film stock is very refreshing.

The film opens with a shot of Hushpuppy (Quvenzhané Wallis) clambering across a tundra of old tires, rotting planks of wood and scraps of plastic. Hushpuppy is a six-year-old with white rain boots and the baddest afro since Foxxy Cleopatra, and, like Austin Powers’ diva sidekick, she is a whole lot of woman. She lives with her father Wink (Dwight Henry) in the Bathtub, a pseudo-utopian village located in the Louisiana bayou. The village is situated in the present but it might as well be set before or after society as we know it. Both Hushpuppy and the citizens of the Bathtub are independent and self-aware. The former is almost mystically wise but retains her childish ego. The latter is a rural American community clinging to a time before large-scale government and economy. Through shaky, low-angle shots and continuous narration, we experience the Bathtub as Hushpuppy experiences it. My favorite scene is when the citizens of the Bathtub celebrate a nameless holiday with a puttering parade of homespun machines, plenty of shellfish and beer (for all ages). Then, in an engulfing grand finale, they launch fireworks so outrageous and dance so lushly as to make Bacchus proud.

A few months ago, I wrote a review of Moonrise Kingdom, Wes Anderson’s pleasant ode to summer love. Like Beasts, it’s an aesthetically enchanting film, but plagued by two child stars who couldn’t cut the mustard. Beasts does not suffer from this malady. Ms. Wallis is, like her character, endowed with innate abilities outside the realm of most young children. But while Hushpuppy’s prodigious talents include survival and metaphysical expertise, Wallis is able to command the screen with the spunk and confidence of no other child actor I’ve seen. It’s uncanny to see the breadth of emotion present in Beasts portrayed so convincingly by someone so young. Many of the other actors, including Mr. Henry, are also untrained amateurs: Henry only found out about the project because he worked at a bakery frequented by the casting crew. While tapping into unproven talent may seem reckless, the risk paid off. Henry, a survivor of the floods following Hurricane Katrina, brings painful familiarity to the struggles faced by the protagonists; Wallis is unforgettable.

One of the many masterstrokes of the film is its casting. Equally masterful are the special effects, the sets and the tastefully uplifting soundtrack. Unlike some stage-to-screen adaptations that suffer from the change in format (i.e. Carnage and War Horse), Beasts of the Southern Wild (converted from Lucy Alibar’s Juicy and Delicious) never feels like a translation.