What do you get when you cross the charm of classic Charlie Chaplin comedies, Looney Tunes cartoons and an isolated, snowy landscape with an entire woodland of its own — all in a black-and-white silent film released in the year 2024?

Your first instinct may be to question how such a project even exists; I found myself wondering the same thing. The answer is found in director Mike Cheslik’s outrageously funny new film, Hundreds of Beavers (2024), which must be seen to fully understand and appreciate its outrageous scope.

The film begins with Jean Kayak (Ryland Brickson Cole Tews), a lonely, unknown applejack salesman who falls in love with The Furrier (Olivia Graves). To prove his love and affection to The Furrier’s father (Doug Mancheski), the salesman ventures on a journey through the 19th-century wilderness to become an expert fur trapper and catch “hundreds of beavers.” Of course, antics and failed attempts ensue.

Featuring no dialogue, quick cuts and an authentic feeling of practicality with the beaver costumes and stop-motion effects (including a late-stage title drop for the ages), Cheslik has created one of the most memorable films in recent memory. And it’s no surprise when watching Hundreds of Beavers why it has played at so many huge festivals over the past year, including TIFF and Fantastic Fest: this is a film that knows how to win over a crowd.

Cheslik wastes no time in introducing the film’s outrageous slapstick humor, as the first 20 minutes feature some of the funniest and most random moments you will ever see in a comedy. The energy is consistently high, making for an unabashedly fun time that is easy to recommend to any film fan. While the film does struggle at times throughout the repetitive middle portion to fully keep up the momentum, there are more than enough laughs to go around.

Cheslik creates a vivid and hilarious world for the characters to inhabit, whether it be the question marks that linger over Jean’s head or the “slot machine” that directs him toward which fur-trapping method to try next. Cheslik’s comprehensive understanding of visual storytelling and physical gags shows in nearly every frame.

Speaking of frames, Quinn Hester’s black-and-white cinematography is gorgeous, capturing the wilderness with so much detail. If you showed this movie to anyone without telling them when it came out, they might think it came from the silent era of filmmaking.

For a movie as ridiculous (in the best way) and outlandish as Hundreds of Beavers, it’s down to the actors to fully embrace their character’s traits to make the humor land. Whether it’s The Furrier’s complete lack of emotion to opening up dead animals or her father’s comic resistance to letting Jean into his daughter’s life, each and every choice the cast makes is with a full commitment to Cheslik’s eccentric vision.

Most of all, it’s a miracle that a low-budget movie as creative and original as Hundreds of Beavers even got made. It’s not without room for improvement in keeping the energy up throughout, as the film struggles to remain on its own high. Nevertheless, this project is something truly special.

Cheslik certainly pays homage to silent films, with even an explicit Modern Times reference thrown in for good measure. But the film at hand makes such a stamp with its own humorous world that it’s difficult to imagine it not inspiring young filmmakers down the line. Hundreds of Beavers is a great film to watch at midnight with your drink of choice in hand and a willingness to indulge yourself in hilarity. 

Review Courtesy of Matt Minton

Feature Image Credit to Mike Cheslik