Conor Bryce looks at Bugs Bunny’s Revenant, Hundreds of Beavers.
Hundreds of Beavers is an absolute gem. A rare thing on many levels—arresting cinema that doesn’t need millions in a budget to dazzle, an ingenious comedy, a love letter to the classic slapstick of Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin. It’s also the closest thing to a live-action Looney Tunes cartoon we’re likely to get for some time—perhaps ever.
Welcome to the peculiar world of Jean Kayak (Ryland Brickson Cole Tews), a man with a beard as glorious as his name. A drunk applejack in the 1800s, Kayak is forced to go native after his idyllic life takes an unexpected turn for the worse (spoiler alert: his blessed orchard gets exploded by beavers).
What begins as mere survival evolves into an absurd and bloody quest as Jean takes on a new identity as a fur trapper. Determined to win the heart of the local furrier and rebuild his status, Jean hunts the many animals that inhabit the area, starting small—trying to outsmart a fish—and ending with what could be described as the opening scene of Saving Private Ryan… with beavers.
Here’s a good time to note that most of the animals in the movie are portrayed by people in cheap, ill-fitting costumes. And that exact level of silliness sells the absurd premise, so viewers can prepare to settle in for the ride.
And what a ride. Director Mike Cheslik has pulled off something special, and you can see his inspiration splattered across the screen like beaver guts—the clever absurdity of Monty Python, the quirky charm of Wes Anderson, the surprising emotion of Edgar Wright. However, the strongest tonal influence is early Sam Raimi—with the slapstick violence, unyielding remote location, and a leading man who’s his own worst enemy. If you’ve watched Bruce Campbell getting smacked around the screen more times than you care to mention, Hundreds of Beavers may well be your new favourite movie.
It’s been a long time since something so profoundly clever yet so colossally stupid has hit the big screen. There’s pure cartoonish glee on display—our hero shimmying up and down trees like a caterpillar, the animals’ eyes replaced with huge XXs when they die, the exaggerated video-game physics of the increasingly ludicrous traps. All of it rendered in glorious—and dialogue-free—black-and-white, with effects that look like they were bashed out on a battered MacBook over a drug-fuelled weekend.
That purity, in its simplicity, is something most modern comedies often forget. Every moment is lovingly crafted, every joke is precise. And the gag rate is so high that if one doesn’t land, there’s another ten waiting in the wings. Jean’s misfortunes unfold like a well-orchestrated ballet of chaos—an art form, a masterful blend of kinetic energy and a keen sense of timing.
The pacing occasionally falters, and the run time clocks in at just under an hour and forty minutes. The narrative is often deprioritised in favour of creative deaths. The character development, while charming, would have benefited from deeper exploration. But it’s ridiculous to bemoan the loose plot of a movie shot for $150,000 with a crew of only six.
In a year where costly comedies like The Fall Guy and Argylle opened to universal indifference and poor box office returns, Mike Cheslik deserves every accolade going. He has created something so gloriously unpretentious—a film that’s an ode to the simple joy of cinema. It’s no small surprise that Daniel Scheinert, the co-director of Best Picture-winning Everything Everywhere All at Once, recently called it “the future of cinema.” Hundreds of Beavers is not just a funny movie; it’s a reminder of how funny movies can be
Hundreds of Beavers is available to stream online now.
