"Hundreds of Beavers"
review by Diablo Joe

From Fantasia Film Festival 2023

Audio version


"Hundreds of Beavers"


Every once and a while, a film comes along that stands so far apart from anything anyone is doing these days. “Hundreds of Beavers” is like nothing else you’ve seen recently. Yet, thanks to its glorious homages to Warner Brother cartoons, the magnificent era of silent comedy cinema, and the whole of movie magic, it seems as familiar, warm, and comfily welcome as a favorite flannel shirt—if that flannel shirt could make you regularly laugh hard enough to pee yourself.

The mad brainchild of director Mike Cheslik and writer Ryland Brickson Cole Tews (credited in that role as Ryland Tews), who also stars in the film as the applejack distiller turned Great Lakes fur trapper, Jean Kayak. Smitten with the local merchant's daughter, Kayak must prove himself worthy (and wealthy) enough to win her hand. But nature and the crafty and sometimes dangerous beasts of the wild confound our hero at every turn with a hilarious series of absurd and slapstick vignettes.

Presented in glorious black and white, using an incredibly inventive mix of live action, animation, practical and virtual props, miniatures, and a cavalcade of furry mascot outfits, “Hundreds of Beavers” uses every cinematic trick in the book to tell its tale of man vs beaver. The film is gag after gag after gag, in seemingly inexhaustible supply. It is virtually dialogue-free but far from silent. Like Chaplin’s “Modern Times,” this is a comedy film with sound that expresses itself through everything but words.

The cast are all masters of comedic timing of the kind almost lost in cinema today. The supporting cast, Olivia Graves, Doug Mancheski, Luis Rico, and Wes Tank, are all spot-on in their roles. Mancheski, in particular, is expressive beyond hilarity as The Merchant. But it’s Ryland Brickson Cole Tews who is the real (and cinematic) hero of “Hundreds of Beavers.” As Kayak, the man is in every scene and almost every shot of the picture. As far as comedic performances go, his is a textbook in how it’s done. Tews pratfalls, pantomimes, and mugs his way through the film in an exhaustive series of gags and stunts. The man gives his all and bares himself (literally) as Kayak. Trudging through (very real) snow, battling endless costumed opponents, and contorting himself into every shape humanly possible, it’s a performance on par with the comedy greats of the silent era.

Part of what makes “Hundreds of Beavers such a wonder is that each shot of the film required a completely different approach. There are a few (rare) shots that are a conventional “actors on location/set situation.” But the rest combine fake trees/environments, fantastic camera shots, interactive animation, puppetry, and endless multiplication of mascot-suited actors to fantastical effect. And seldom are two subsequent shots done entirely the same way. It must have been an insane production to pre-plane, and Cheslik uses it all seamlessly, masterfully, and hilariously to give us a Ph.D. in cartoon physics.

If there are two issues that you could level at “Hundreds of Beavers,” they are this: First, at just shy of an hour fifty, the film is perhaps a bit overly long. While never dull or tedious, audiences may become aware of its length partially because of the sheer overwhelming stream of gags and pratfalls. With nary a classic cartoon routine left untouched, let alone hundreds of wholly original ones, everything but the kitchen sink is in here (and we double-checked—no kitchen sinks to be found). Your average Looney Tunes reel was 6 minutes, so “Beavers” gives you your money’s worth, but perhaps too much so. The second complaint is a more selfish one. The lyrics to the opening song about Kayak, sung by a men’s chorus, can be a bit of a struggle to understand, and some audience members may miss out on some truly funny lyrics.

Cheslik and Tews have created something unique and fresh here, despite how familiar it may seem. Anyone—ANYONE—who has ever enjoyed a Bug Bunny or Woody Woodpecker cartoon, Chaplin or Keaton film, Monty Python sketch, or Pee Wee Herman episode will find “Hundreds of Beavers” a twisted, inventive, bawdy, and mind-bogglingly creative movie, guaranteed to laugh-stress your bladder to its limit. Those who don’t enjoy it are why this world is a mess.

This devil of a reviewer gives “Hundreds of Beavers” 4.5 out of 5 imps.