'Hundreds of Beavers' review: an avalanche of retro antics

A heartwarming silliness permeates the lively live-action cartoon “Hundreds of Beavers” from Milwaukee filmmakers Mike Cheslik and Ryland Brickson Cole Tews, merry pranksters who deploy gleefully inventive lo-fi madness in their wild, gag-filled comedy. Pitching a lovelorn fur trapper against a buck-toothed horde, this underground festival hit is a feverish fit of creative buffoonery – you've never experienced anything remotely like it.

Even though its influences are prominent (classic two-reel silent shorts, crazed period animation, even something like “Caddyshack”), the clever madness on display is largely its own. It's all cleverly filtered through a modern comedic sensibility that revels in the addictive power of the worlds of video games and layered TikToks. At first, you'll revel in the positive energy of a group of weirdos fooling around in sub-zero conditions. But considering the graphic work on display (there are more than 1,500 effects shots), the conclusion is closer to awe: a grand ambition to push the absurd as far as possible.

In other words, what's here is gonzo movie liquor, distilled from the campy legacy of every mad genius, from Buster Keaton and Tex Avery to Mel Brooks and George Miller. (Heck, add Peter Jackson's early gore-fests, too.) And though “Beavers” is feature-length sized rather than Looney Tunes-length, its giddy, giggling rush of wacky sight gags is remarkably sustained.

Designed as a retro black-and-white photo game with intertitles, sound effects, accelerated speeds and upbeat music, “Hundreds of Beavers” ostensibly tells a story, but only to the extent that a magician does, to simply contextualize its enjoy the tricks. When we meet the impressively bearded Jean Kayak (the magnificently ridiculous Tews, who also co-wrote), he is a successful creator of applejack, as an opening song informs us. But he also gets high on his own supply, catastrophic when a few missed beaver stings trigger the epic destruction of his operation.

Frozen, hungry and helpless, he proves to be as successful as a famous, hapless coyote at the trap game, until he is motivated by attraction to the mischievous and expert daughter (Olivia Graves) of a grizzly furrier (Doug Mancheski). There's also a mountain man's (Wes Tank) elaborate game-catching ingenuity that inspires him. But to fulfill his destiny as a fur trapping legend, Jean must confront a cunning population of beavers (often spied in teams of two, hauling logs to a mysterious location) who harbor their own plans for domination of the survival of the stronger. (Add composites of James Bond supervillains and Spielberg action to the referential stew.)

The swirl of cartoon physics and comic melodrama is fantastical and otherworldly, as if the survivors in the wilderness had access to home movie equipment to record their growing delirium. Also on the packed menu of this fractured fairy tale are human-sized animal costumes, arcade graphics, tumbling, pole dancing, adorable worm puppets, Rube Goldberg designs, expressionist sequences, and even a bar fight with rodents. At the center, the rubbery Tews gamely delivers a wide range of pre-sound antics, from deadpan reactions to wild-eyed exuberance.

It is exhausting? Of course. Cheslik, Tews, and their cunning conspirators are the kind of obsessive moviegoers who prefer a feast to a well-balanced diet. But it's a truly joyous overload of laughter, wonder, and heartache. It's as if they take their winter location seriously: stopping moving would surely mean death. So instead of us not being able to see “Coyote vs. Acme,” which will soon be eliminated, you would do well to satisfy your craving for madness by watching “Hundreds of Beavers,” as visionary as any independent film. in many moons and at a dam site (ahem) more fun.