Beasts of the Southern Wild (2012): Wild and Wonderful

It ain’t easy growing up in the bayou, ‘specially if Mama is long gone (but not forgotten), Daddy leaves you alone for long stretches, there’s no money, no guvment, and the levee’s about to break. Oh, and global warming. And did I mention monstrous Aurochs on the loose?

That’s pretty much the situation for a little six year old girl called Hushpuppy, living in a wild, gypsy-ish community called the Bathtub, on the wrong side of the levee in the Southern Louisiana delta, at the outer fringe of so-called civilization. Hushpuppy is an intrepid kid, though, a survivor, booned with a vivid imagination, filling in for her limited knowledge and understanding of the big, grown-up world.  As played by newcomer (what else could she be at that age) Quvenzhané Wallis – great name, by the way - Hushpuppy is also a mesmerizingly real character in this unusual indie movie. She’s in pretty much every scene, and that is a very good thing. A pint-size kid with an amazing shock of bushy, unruly hair and wide-set eyes, alternately inquiring and knowing, she takes everything in, searching for meaning and for connection. There’s a bit of Ole Huck Finn in her. As Hushpuppy might tell you, she da man!

The other thing really striking about this film is its ability to take us into this place, the Bathtub, and as we become comfortable with its humid, ad hoc, libertarian style, into the life and worldview of its residents, a motley crew if ever there was one, as they come together to help and protect Hushpuppy and pull together through extreme adversity.  They live in shacks, thrown together from whatever scraps they can find, amidst an exhilaratingly random  jumble of stuff; and are sustained by a cornucopian abundance of crawfish, shrimp, fish and you-name-it,  the fruits of the bayou and nearby lake – not to mention considerable amounts of beer and booze, provenance unknown.  Despite what appears to be a near absence of  money and what we would consider normal creature comforts, the world of these Bathtub  folk comes across as rich and convivial.

The most vividly depicted of these folks is Hushpuppy’s Daddy, Wink (Dwight Henry), a moody and troubled man, trying to protect Hushpuppy and trying to save himself, two goals in seeming conflict. He is alternately violently exasperated with his little daughter and warmly tender. We eventually learn why this is so, but I won’t spoil the story. Let’s just say they have quite an interesting relationship. Dwight Henry’s performance is down and dirty and thoroughly convincing (as are all of them).

Hushpuppy believes that everything in the world is interconnected, from the polar ice caps to the sweaty Bathtub, from the prehistoric to the modern, and that what she does in her life can have profound and far-reaching effects.   As it turns out, when some of these connections are sundered, Hushpuppy’s world threatens to come apart at the seams, and this child’s philosophy is put to the test.

Beasts of the Southern Wild is beautifully shot, sometimes achingly so, and it is a sensory joy to watch. If you can see it on the big screen, you should.  The product of a first time director and production company, working with non-professional actors on a shoestring budget, this marvelous, human  movie   is a remarkable achievement.  It is funny, profound and quirky. Ultimately, it is about (among other things) civilization and community, innocence and its absence, family, death  and life. You will not quickly forget it.

Currently in theaters