Surreal “Beasts of the Southern Wild” Tackled Huge Issues Through Small Eyes

“Sometimes you can break something so bad it can’t get put back together.”

“Everybody loses the thing that made them. It’s even how it’s supposed to be in nature. The brave men stay and watch it happen; they don’t run.”

When Katrina hits, an already upside-down society is turned inside-out to boot, paving the way toward the movie’s central questions: What can truly grow amidst the debris? What is possible against the backdrop of nothingness? And does the primitive, idyllic lifestyle yield more happiness than our fast-paced, sophisticated culture?

Set against the backdrop of these questions and more, “Beasts of the Southern Wild” packs an emotional punch, following a community called the “Bathtub,” the fictional Isle of Charles Doucet, which is modeled on the very real Isle de Jean Charles. Outcast from society and technology, the Bathtub is a living, breathing community, one giant family intent on partying its way through all ordeals (much like New Orleans itself).

We view the trials and tribulations of the Bathtub through the lens provided by Hushpuppy, a small girl making her way without much parental authority, breaks or guidance. It was a monumental role for a wee girl, but the mesmerizing Quvenzhane (and no, I didn’t just fall asleep and bang my head on the keyboard) Wallis’s eyes captivate you and reel you in, not only offering her unique perspective, but imprinting the themes of resolve and girl power along the way.

Just 6 years old at the time of filming, Wallis pulled it off, lending stark understatement to the gut-wrenching tale of her life. Her father, played by regular New Orleans dude Dwight Henry as Wink in an underrated role, is sickly. Interestingly, there is no physical affection between the father and Hushpuppy until the former is faced with his own mortality.

It’s also not always easy to discern what is occurring in the mind of a 6-year-old child and what is actually taking place in reality. In a sense, it’s all seen through the perspective of Hushpuppy, as pointed out in a sublime New Yorker review. Indeed, it’s “a piece of realism from the point of view of a six-year-old,” director Benh Zeitlin told The Atlantic.

“Beast of the Southern Wild” was the pet baby of the 26-year-old Zeitlin—his first feature film—and became the darling of Sundance, winning the Grand Jury Prize. Powered by Court 13, a collective of artists and filmmakers, it garnered an astonishing four Oscar nominations.

In a bit of foreshadowing of some of the ecological issues detailed in the film, on the first day of shooting, the Deepwater Horizon blew. And in his research, the director kept coming back to a singular question: Why would anyone choose to live in Louisiana after Hurricane Katrina?

Zeitlin immersed himself in the culture and community, using Isle de Jean Charles as inspiration for his vision. He would go on to spend two years just editing the film, making a conscious decision to tap into bayou/Cajun myth and folklore extensively. And he elected to breathe the story to life by leaning on Louisiana natives—his decision to cast “real” people in lieu of actors added to the film’s feeling of authenticity. Zeitlin also had the cast and crew live and shoot in the bayou for nearly half a year.

The result is a well-rendered depiction of the lives of a community living on the edge of catastrophe and existing at Mother Nature’s behest—and the impact that atmosphere means to a sense of community. Bolstered by the tremendous music and unique cinematography, there is a sense of being flung directly into the Bathtub yourself, to scratch and claw your own way into being.

Admittedly, I found the description and introduction of the auruchs a bit hard to follow initially. The story also wanders a little bit, especially as Hushpuppy’s search for her mother brings her to a floating crab shack/whorehouse (are they the same thing?) in what resembled a sort of dream sequence, in which it’s never made clear whether the cook is actually her mother or not. Hushpuppy wants her to be her Mom, which I believe is kind of the point (as evidenced in the heartbreaking scene where Hushpuppy dances with her, holding her close and whispering, “This is my favorite thing”). And within this mother/not mother role, the cook dispenses life lessons, telling Hushpuppy, “One day it’s gonna all be on you. Everything on your plate gonna fall on the floor.”

I know that some have decried the film as glorifying poverty and a lack of sophistication, but I think that is reading way too much into the story. Criticism in some quarters has also centered on the movie’s depiction of government as oppressive and intrusive, but beyond the obvious acknowledgment that the government ignored an entire region in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, I didn’t glean an anti-government vibe or any political bent at all.

Instead, the Bathtub survivors come to see their “rescue” as simply another way of institutionalizing them and indoctrinating them into the ways of the rest of the world—leading to a revolt and escape.

Zeitlin himself waved away criticisms of his depiction of poverty, arguing instead that these people aren’t poor, but instead experience the “ultimate freedom” in their everyday lives.

“The whole idea of the bathtub is that it’s a society where all the things that divide people have been removed,” he told The Atlantic. “So there’s no religion, no politics, no money, no one sees race, there’s no rich and poor because there is no currency.”

However, I do agree that “Beasts of the Southern Wild” can be experienced as a rejection of the norms and pace of a too-modern world. This relatively short film (93 minutes) depicted a Bathtub family that has, in essence, chosen isolation, then set about creating and defining its own distinct world.

In the sense that everything that dies simply becomes part of something new, the Bathtub embraces the ideas of rebirth, recycling, reuse and repurposing as a quasi-litmus test for a globe succumbing to technological and environmental failures. Even young Hushpuppy seems to grasp this, as she quietly tells the auruch when they finally meet, “You’re my friend, kind of.”

All in all, “Beasts of the Southern Wild” was some type of bouillabaisse of “Mad Max,” “Waterworld” and “The Champ.” And like all good Cajun food, it includes a spirit, a vibrancy that allows it to go far beyond something just to be digested—this flick screams out for your immersion.