“Beasts of the Southern Wild,” directed by Benh Zeitlin, is one of those films that demands a second viewing—if only so viewers can wrap their minds around it.
In his first feature film, Zeitlin tells the story of six-year-old Hushpuppy (Quvenzhané Wallis) and her father Wink (Dwight Henry) as they struggle to confront what appears to be the unraveling of the universe.
While Hurricane Katrina barrels down upon The Bathtub—a splinter community located beyond the protection of a levee, composed of people who have rejected society—the tenuous father-daughter relationship is tested by Wink’s ever-worsening sickness. The result is the complete destruction of everything familiar to Hushpuppy, and her defining challenge is to survive in the ruins of her former existence.
The film is at once stunning and difficult to watch. Hushpuppy’s futuristic, whimsical journey is muddled by a fragmented and naively constructed parable about Hurricane Katrina that struggles to poetically establish any sense of clarity and coherence. It is easy to become so engrossed in the film’s delicate soft-focus cinematography and heart-wrenching acting that one completely overlooks its gross narrative deficiencies.
Life in The Bathtub is strangely idyllic; governed by poverty and hardship, its denizens value their off-the-grid freedom above all. The surreal setting is amazingly compelling, for it lacks both spiritual and physical constraints. Unbound by cumbersome societal conventions, people are free to toil as they please in the company of fellow outcasts, scavenging and fishing to survive.
To defend their freedom, Wink and a handful of others refuse to evacuate even as a storm approaches, submerging their entire world beneath the floodwaters. Hushpuppy stands boldly at the frontline of the ensuing catastrophe, paralyzed by conflicting impulses towards perseverence, denial and confusion. If someone had refused to board the arc in the biblical flood, this would be his story, and Hushpuppy his muse.
Where “Beasts of the Southern Wild” succeeds, it does so with terrific grace and tenderness. Wallis, who was five years old at the time of her audition, delivers a performance that may be impressive enough to earn her an Oscar nomination. Her poignant and charming outlook is a delightful window into her fraught navigation of the adult world. Through her eyes viewers can intimately understand the film’s universe, relating as adults to the tumultuous experiences of growing up. Hushpuppy’s demons present themselves as concrete realities within the guise of magical realism, and it is impossible not to cheer her on throughout.
Unfortunately, the action surrounding the bildungsroman subplot betrays its final impact. Cliché character roles, the overuse of alcohol as a prop and guiding force, and Hushpuppy’s arrival into mainstream society come across as sloppy and distracting scenes. There is a lack of any directional movement within the film. It ambles along with a confident sense of importance in seemingly no direction whatsoever. Despite its undeniable beauty and charm, the film’s ending brings a bitter taste of unfulfillment.
A movie’s worth should not be determined by the reason it was made; art should not be regarded in such crude terms. “Art for art’s sake” is a motto for films that derive importance through their adherence to an established structure. “Beasts,” however, stumbles and deviates from the path that could have made it a true masterpiece.
For Zeitlin and his actors, this film is an astounding success. But given the amount of thought clearly given to the story, as well as its wondrous beauty, it gives off an aggravating sense of wasted potential. I really liked this film, but I wanted desperately to love it.