Beasts of the
Southern Wild got a great deal of attention last year, from its Sundance
Festival premiere in January through its national release to talk of possible
Oscar nominations including Best Picture. I think a lot of it has to do with
the type of production it is and less to do with the whimsical fantasy elements
and completely adorable young actress who stars. It was written, produced and
directed outside the studio system with a cast comprised entirely of
non-professional actors. Plus the film is made to feel unlike any other film
you’re likely to have seen.
It takes place entirely in a place known as The Bathtub.
As near as I can figure, this place is perhaps an island or some area near New
Orleans, but outside the now infamous levees. The people who reside here live
in conditions of squalor that most people can barely imagine. Their houses are
elevated from the ground to protect from flooding. They get around on makeshift
boats fashioned from sofas, tires and other junk. But they all know each other
and they are self-reliant in a way that it doesn’t matter that they’re cut off
from the world. They like it that way.
In the center of the colorful cast of characters is the
six-year old girl Hushpuppy, whose father is an alcoholic who nevertheless
gives her valuable instruction in making it through the world. He tells her
that her mother swam far away long ago. Hushpuppy narrates her story, which
includes not only her childish observations about the world around her, but
also facts she’s apparently culled together from multiple stories to fashion a
story of prehistoric beasts known as Aurochs trapped in the polar ice caps
waiting to be released.
I could talk about the plot of the film, adapted by
director Benh Zeitlin and Lucy Alibar from Alibar’s stage play, about a father
who disappears for several days and stumbles home in a hospital gown. This is a
father who treats Hushpuppy like a young man instead of the little girl she is.
And he’s a man who, despite not possessing the parenting skills we in the world
of middle class suburban life think are important, will do what he can to keep
his child alive because that’s “his job” he tells her. I could tell of a great
storm that ravages the bayou and floods the Bathtub to the treetops and leaves
all the plant and animal life dying. Then the state officials who declare it a
mandatory evacuation zone and haul everyone off to a makeshift shelter. I could
sum up with a description of Hushpuppy going on a journey in which she finds her
mother, a lookalike, or a complete fantasy representation of her mother. None
of that is sufficient to express the joy it is to watch this movie. This is a
movie that’s more concerned with creating a splendid visual context to match
the wonder and amazement in a little girl’s mind than with a story that plods
along from A to B.
Dwight Henry is a local baker where the film was shot. He
was cast as Hushpuppy’s father and practiced his lines at work. I’m amazed
watching a completely unself-conscious amateur actor inhabit a role with
everything he has at his disposal. Perhaps even more remarkable is Quvenzhané
Wallis as Hushpuppy. She has fierceness in her eyes that. This is not your typical
juvenile performance because it’s not your typical narrative film that uses
emotional manipulation to signal the audience how to feel and react. There are
no cutesy or teary-eyed scenes. Hushpuppy is not an adorable child in the
traditional sense that cinema most often requires. She is connected to her
surroundings, full of imagination, and determined to be master of her domain,
even while she still depends on her daddy to see her through.
If there’s a political element infused in the film, it’s
gently eased in. You might find references to Hurricane Katrina, though I would
say that event serves as inspiration rather than source material. You could say
that the bureaucrats who take Hushpuppy and her father away from the Bathtub by
force are exerting something akin to totalitarian dominion over the less
fortunate. You certainly can’t deny that after an hour of scenes set in
swampland, shantytowns and dirt roads, the presence of white walls and doctors
in lab coats looks foreign. As the strongest moment of coercing the audience to
see things through Hushpuppy’s eyes, that’s one of Zeitlin’s greatest
achievements. Some might argue that the conditions the characters are living in
is destitute squalor and that no child should be raised under such conditions.
That sort of misses the point. Beasts of
the Southern Wild doesn’t argue either way for whether or not poor people
should be left to live in the conditions they choose (whether or not they
choose the conditions is an entirely different discussion even further outside
the scope of the film), it simply presents a life on film and asks us to be a
part of it and follow Hushpuppy through the fantasies she creates – a gift all
children have that gets lost sometime later.
No comments:
Post a Comment