"There was a girl named Hushpuppy and she once lived with her father in the Bathtub." That sentence probably doesn't mean anything to you if you haven't seen Benh Zeitlin's BEASTS OF THE SOUTHERN WILD (in fact, it probably sounds really creepy). Unfortunately, that feeling you probably have right now is how I felt when I walked out of the film. It just really didn't mean anything to me.
Written by Zeitlin and Lucy Alibar (and based on a one-act play by Alibar called JUICY AND DELICIOUS), BEASTS OF THE SOUTHERN WILD (hereby referred to as BEASTS) is about six-year old Hushpuppy (Quvenzhané Wallis) who lives with her short-fuse father Wink (Dwight Henry) in a bayou community on an island surrounded by rising water that the locals refer to as the "Bathtub." As the film progresses, the community must deal with raging storms, massive flooding, and a forced evacuation from the (more well off) people on the other side of the levy. Along the way, deeper struggles occur between Hushpuppy and Wink as the latter tries to prepare the former for an adulthood that might be coming faster than she thinks.
Don't get me wrong, BEASTS is a very well done film. The script is fantastic with some amazing local dialogue that feels incredibly natural. The acting likewise is stellar. All the supporting cast members feel unique and have very distinct personalities; even the child actors, though not having much to say, do a really good job of being what you'd expect kids living in a place like this to be like. Dwight Henry and newcomer Quvenzhané Wallis are really where the film shines, however. Henry delivers an absolutely knock-out performance as the hot-headed father, trying to be the emotional rock that he thinks his daughter needs him to be while clearly struggling just to keep their lives together. Wallis as Hushpuppy similarly holds her own. Charming beyond words but with a scowl that can stop even the largest beast in its tracks, she brings a palpable energy to the entire work that is truly remarkable for an actor of her age and experience.
And the film is also beautiful! The cinematography by Ben Richardson truly runs the gamut in the course of the film's 90 minutes. Whether it's depicting stagnant, diseased filled water and bloated animal carcasses or indescribably beautiful scenes of celebration (including one moment with sparklers that made me incredibly nostalgic and really jealous), Richardson infuses the film with a look that is both natural and unnatural, creating a space between reality and unreality that blends perfectly with the spirit of the picture.
Now, undoubtedly you are questioning my sanity at this point, maybe you're even calling me names in your head ("I wish you'd hush...puppy! Zing!"). And if the film did all the things I've mentioned and provided a compelling story with relatable drama then it would arguably be one of the best films of the year. Unfortunately, it doesn't. Every bad thing that happens to the characters in the film is their own fault. The bayou is populated by stubborn and stuck-in-their-ways people who refuse help at every turn, even when it's potentially life-saving (opting instead for the Colonel Sanders method of treatment), they will not leave the Bathtub even when it's clear a major storm is coming and is going to wash away all their properties, and overall they're just filled with disillusionment. And I might even be able to excuse this if the film made it a point to really touch on why they're actually like this, but it doesn't.
I really wanted to like this movie; and early on I thought I was going to absolutely love it. But it just wasn't for me. When all the drama in a film is self-inflicted with no real explanation as to why it's this way, I am just left asking for more. The film begins and ends with the same line that I quoted above: "One day, the future scientists will find evidence of a girl named Hushpuppy that once lived with her father in the Bathtub." To which I ask (as I did many, many times throughout the movie), "Why?"
