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Review: An onslaught of retro-styled slapstick, 'Hundreds of Beavers' is mania from heaven

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Review: An onslaught of retro-styled slapstick, 'Hundreds of Beavers' is mania from heaven

A soulful silliness pervades the rootin’, tootin’ live-action cartoon “Hundreds of Beavers” from Milwaukee filmmakers Mike Cheslik and Ryland Brickson Cole Tews, merry pranksters who deploy a gleefully inventive lo-fi madness to their gag-stuffed wilderness comedy. Pitting a lovestruck fur trapper against a bucktoothed horde, this underground festival hit is a feverish fit of creative buffoonery — you haven’t experienced anything remotely like it.

Even though its influences are prominent — classic two-reel silent shorts, vintage berserk animation, even something like “Caddyshack” — the artful insanity on display is very much its own. All is ingeniously filtered through a modern comic sensibility that revels in the addictive punch of video-game worlds and filter-layered TikToks. At first, you’ll delight in the can-do energy of a crew of oddballs goofing around in subzero conditions. But considering the graphics work on display (there are more than 1500 effects shots), the takeaway is closer to astonishment: a teeming ambition to bring the absurdity as far as it can possibly go.

In other words, what’s on tap here is gonzo cinema moonshine, distilled from the corny legacy of every loopy genius from Buster Keaton and Tex Avery to Mel Brooks and George Miller. (What the hell, toss in Peter Jackson’s early ragtag gorefests, too.) And even though “Beavers” is feature-sized rather than Looney Tunes length, its woozy, giggly high of outlandish sight gags is remarkably sustained.

Styled as a retro, black-and-white photoplay with intertitles, sound effects, cranked-up speeds and jaunty music, “Hundreds of Beavers” ostensibly tells a story, but only insofar as a magician does, to simply contextualize your enjoyment of the tricks. When we meet impressively bearded Jean Kayak (the magnificently ridiculous Tews, who also co-wrote), he’s a successful maker of applejack, as an opening song informs us. But he also gets high on his own supply — cataclysmically so when a few overlooked beaver bites trigger the epic destruction of his operation.

A scene from the movie “Hundreds of Beavers.”

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Freezing, hungry and destitute, he proves about as successful as a famous hapless coyote at snaring game, until he is motivated by an attraction to the mischievous, knife-skilled daughter (Olivia Graves) of a grizzly furrier (Doug Mancheski). There’s also the elaborate animal-catching ingenuity of a mountain man (Wes Tank) who inspires him. But to meet his destiny as a fur-trapping legend, Jean must contend with a wily beaver population — often spied in teams of two, carting logs toward a mysterious location — who harbor their own plans for survival-of-the-fittest domination. (Add James Bond supervillain compounds and Spielbergian action to the referential stew.)

The swirl of cartoon physics and comic melodrama is fantastical and otherworldly, as if survivalists in the wild had access to home-movie equipment to chart their increasing delirium. Also on this fractured fairy tale’s jampacked menu are human-sized animal costumes, arcade graphics, pratfalls, pole dancing, adorable maggot puppets, Rube Goldberg designs, expressionist sequences and even a bar brawl with rodents. At its center, the rubbery Tews gamely serves up a wide range of pre-sound clownery, from deadpan reactions to crazy-eyed exuberance.

Is it exhausting? Of course. Cheslik, Tews and their crafty conspirators are the kinds of movie-nerd obsessives who prefer a feast to a well-balanced diet. But it’s a truly jolly overload of laughter, awe and head-scratching. It’s as if they took their wintry location seriously — to stop moving would surely mean death. So in lieu of us not getting to see the soon-to-be-deleted “Coyote vs. Acme,” you’d do well to satisfy your craving for knockabout lunacy by checking out “Hundreds of Beavers,” as visionary as any indie in many a moon, and a dam site (ahem) more fun.

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‘Hundreds of Beavers’

Not rated

Running time: 1 hour, 48 minutes

Playing: In limited release Friday, Mar. 15

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Movie Reviews

‘Supergirl’ review: DC Studios serves up a second less-than-super movie

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‘Supergirl’ review: DC Studios serves up a second less-than-super movie

James Gunn isn’t exactly crushing it.

Named co-chairman and chief executive officer of the newly formed DC Studios in 2022, the “Guardians of the Galaxy” filmmaker wrote and directed the division of Warner Bros. Discovery’s largely disappointing “Superman,” released last year.

This week, DC Studios’ second big-screen affair, “Supergirl,” lands in theaters with similarly underwhelming results.

‘Superman’ review: James Gunn gets DCU off to rocky, overstuffed start

Starring Milly Alcock as the movie’s namesake Kryptonian heroine — who also goes by Kara Zor-El and is the cousin of David Corenswet’s Superman/Clark Kent/Kal-El — “Supergirl” isn’t distractingly zany the way its 2025 sister film was. Instead, it’s tonally boring, a chore of a movie chock full of thinly drawn characters and increasingly bombastic and violent.

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To be clear, Gunn isn’t at the helm for “Supergirl.” Instead, it’s the typically dependable Craig Gillespie (“I, Tonya,” “Cruella”), working from a script by Ana Nogueira, making her less-than-impressive feature-writing debut.

This planet-hopping adventure in the new DC Universe isn’t a complete space wreck, however, thanks largely to the spunky performance by Aussie Alcock, best known for portraying the younger Rhaenyra Targaryen in the early episodes of HBO’s “House of the Dragon.”

When we catch up with Kara, she’s basically as we left her late in “Superman”: a super-sized mess. She’s out with her beloved, rambunctious dog, Krypto — the peppy and powerful pup having already been a major player in “Superman” — and enjoying a 23rd-birthday pub crawl among planets under a red sun. (Quick reminder: Supergirl, like Superman, draws her incredible powers from a yellow sun, like Earth’s, so she’s at least vaguely normal under a red sun and, importantly, can become intoxicated. The color of suns is a major factor throughout “Supergirl,” and it’s the movie’s most inventive narrative element.)

It is on such a world where a drunken Kara encounters 13-year-old Ruthye Marye Knoll of the Danastia Clan (Eve Ridley), whose family has just been brutally slain by the ruthless Krem of the Yellow Hills (Matthias Schoenaerts). Understandably, Ruthye wants revenge against Krem — leader of the Brigants, a band of male pirates and traffickers — and can think of little else.

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She’s offering anyone who will help a sword made by her family of skilled weapons makers. The beyond-buzzed Kara isn’t interested, but she gets involved when a scumbag type tries to take the sword. She continues to do her best to fend off Ruthye’s subsequent pleas for assistance in her quest to kill Krem, but when the baddie — in the process of stealing her floating RV of a spaceship — shoots a charging Krypto with a poison dart, Kara has designs on punishing him, too. In fact, she needs to retrieve the specific antidote Krem carries with him to save her four-legged bud.

Milly Alcock, left, as Kara Zor-El, and Eve Ridley, as Ruthye Marye Knoll of the Danastia Clan, appear in a scene from “Supergirl.” (Courtesy of Warner Bros. Pictures)

And so the gals are off to other worlds, initially traveling via the space equivalent of a beat-up Greyhound bus, on which they run into a trio of pillaging Sklarian Raiders. The sequence in which Kara retrieves stolen possessions and extracts information from them is as zany as “Supergirl” gets.

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Culture Clash knows the end is near. It wants to go out with a bang

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Culture Clash knows the end is near. It wants to go out with a bang

Richard Montoya of Culture Clash doesn’t mince words when it comes to politics, current events or the state of mainstream Hollywood. But he does sugarcoat his technological limitations as a 67-year-old comic in the dreaded age of video calls with a punchy Chicano twist.

“I’m a low-tech Aztec,” he writes via email when requesting a Zoom link to our Monday interview.

Culture Clash — which includes members Montoya, Ric Salinas and Herbert Sigüenza — arrived on the scene as a guerrilla sketch theater group from the San Francisco Mission District in 1984. By that time, the Chicano movement had reached its peak, thanks to the United Farm Workers labor movement, as well as student activist organizations like Movimiento Estudiantil Chicano de Aztlán (MEChA), which advocated for Chicano unity, political empowerment and educational access.

Luis Valdez, founder of El Teatro Campesino — who began putting on social justice-oriented plays for the striking Delano farmworkers in 1965 — backed the slapstick satire troupe, considering the trio “the cutting edge of fresh, new Latino comic genius.”

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Culture Clash stood out in a time when Chicanos became more vocal and visible — and its members challenged an entertainment industry that has historically lacked Latino representation. Between 1993 and 1996, Culture Clash hosted its own self-titled TV show on the syndicated Fox network. The show, which was filmed at the Mayan Theater in downtown Los Angeles, is widely considered the first Latino sketch comedy to air on American television.

Throughout the last four decades, Culture Clash has parodied nearly every prominent Latino figure in history, including Che Guevara, Frida Kahlo, Ritchie Valens, Rita Moreno, Edward James Olmos and others. Its members have mocked hard-shell cholos and gangsters, often by placing them in funny scenarios. For instance, take this clip, in which the trio take on cholo characters and reimagine what it would be like to surf on the Southern California shore.

But they’ve also taken on more serious topics in their classic “Chavez Ravine” play, which looks into one of the darkest chapters in L.A. history: the forceful removal and displacement of families, mostly Mexican, in the 1950s under eminent domain. Recently Montoya attended a live reading adapted by Somos El Teatro, led by Xolo Maridueña, Mariana da Silva and Angel Villalobos at Elysian Park.

“It gives us so much life that people are finding the issues of swindlers, whether it’s gentrification, the taking over of settlements,” says Montoya. “The generational trauma of losing your home in L.A. has never gone away.”

But not every Culture Clash joke or skit has been safe from criticism. Montoya still remembers how a conservative pundit chastised the group for using light humor to discuss the 1992 riots, when LAPD officers were acquitted for using excessive force in the arrest and beating of Rodney King.

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“By looking at it and treating it as dynamite, exploding it and then by bringing some levity and a whole lot of seriousness to the Rodney King matter allows us a moment, a fraction of time to look at the issues a little bit differently,” says Montoya. “That laugh allows us a moment to examine it differently.”

On June 27, Culture Clash will return to Grand Performances, a free summer concert series at California Plaza in downtown L.A., with comedic sketches colored by political and social satire. The show, titled “American Payasos! Culture Clash’s End Times Cabaret” will be co-presented with De Los.

While their 40-year-plus legacy might merit a show reminiscent of old goofball skits — like their early 1989 show “The Mission” that poked fun at the problematic Spanish Franciscan missionary Junipero Serra — this will not be an “oldies but goodies show,” as Montoya put it. “We are highly pissed off about a lot of stuff right now.”

“ We’re thinking a lot about the Mexican American patriarchy, Cesar Chavez, Dolores Huerta and it’s time to address some of these things,” says Montoya. “ We want to look at the service workers of Los Angeles, the people that sell cotton candy in MacArthur Park, the people that sell ice cream in Echo Park and the people working the World Cup.”

For the veteran comic, son of the late Chicano poet Jose Montoya, it is also impossible to ignore the immigration enforcement raids that have rattled Los Angeles communities in recent years.

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“This is a very strange moment for satirists,” says Montoya. “We have a responsibility to use those tools to say what’s going on in our city and country and provide these moments where we can do a little bit closer examination because the people in power aren’t telling us what’s going on.”

In the last five years, Montoya has fiddled around with digital media, creating sporadic videos featuring old clips of the troupe, as well as videos of Latino media, to connect with technologically diverse audiences of all ages. (One example is a video calling on people to get out the vote, that features clips of Speedy Gonzales and honors political figures like Huerta.)

Although Montoya believes Culture Clash is nearing the end of its career, there’s a question lingering inside his mind: What does a graceful exit look like for a group like Culture Clash, which has never been fully integrated into mainstream Hollywood and still left such a profound legacy in the world of Latino entertainment?

The answer to that might still be unknown, but like any Culture Clash project, it will likely be wickedly satirical and punchy. Says Montoya: “We’re ready to go out with a huge, loud bang that can say something against the power structure.”

Culture Clash will take center stage on June 27 at Grand Performances, in partnership with De Los. Also performing is the retro cumbia-quebradita musician É Arenas (bassist of Chicano Batman), the cumbia-fusion, luchador-masked cumbia group La Nueva Ola de Cumbia, as well as DJ Dali.

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Movie Review – In the Hand of Dante (2025)

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Movie Review – In the Hand of Dante (2025)

In the Hand of Dante, 2025.

Directed by Julian Schnabel.
Starring Oscar Isaac, Gal Gadot, Gerard Butler, John Malkovich, Louis Cancelmi, Sabrina Impacciatore, Benjamin Clementine, Martin Scorsese, Al Pacino, Franco Nero, Jason Momoa.

SYNOPSIS:

A handwritten manuscript of Dante Alighieri’s poem “The Divine Comedy” makes its way from a priest to a mob boss in New York City, where it is taken by Nick Tosches after he’s asked to verify its authenticity.

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Outrageously ambitious with an absurd narrative that veers between slick scuzzy fun and philosophically snoozy, the key issue with co-writer/director Julian Schnabel’s excessively long In the Hand of Dante is that it’s more engaging as a dopey early 2000s crime thriller about mobsters employing the services of novelist Nick Tosches (also the writer of the novel the film is based on, inserting himself into it as a fictional character, here played by Oscar Isaac in the adaptation by Schnabel and Louise Kugelberg) and Dante Alighieri specialist to steal the recently unearthed original manuscript of his 14th-century masterwork The Divine Comedy from Italian priests than it does as its other side to that coin, a flashback story about the creation of that story complete with actors portraying secondary characters to eventually get at some points about reincarnation.

This means that the film mostly begins with Oscar Isaac entangled in a web of crime alongside slur-slinging, trigger-finger-happy Louie (in what might be the best performance of Gerard Butler’s career, despite the steep drop in quality in the second half), John Malkovich as a mob boss seeing nothing but dollar signs if they can get a hold of the original manuscript, authenticate it, and sell it on the black market, and even Al Pacino popping up for a scene and stealing it set during Nick’s childhood following a violent incident that is so bonkers readers might not believe it even if I typed it out here, to something close enough to a mess culminating in a confrontation between the excellent Oscar Isaac and the shudderingly bad Gal Gadot and Jason Momoa in important roles, the former a lover placed in danger to the mob by her proximity to Nick, and the latter a greedy killer in a relationship with literary historian Dr. Susanna Pulice (Sabrina Impacciatore).

Martin Scorsese also appears in the 14th-century section (for someone who loves to assert what real cinema is vs cinematic theme park rides, he has now appeared in 3 mediocre-to-terrible movies this year), offering sage-like advice to Dante (also Oscar Isaac) in a hilariously over-the-top beard piece. Much of this is a mental journey, but also has something to do with Pope Boniface VIII (also Gerard Butler) placing the Mark of Cain on Dante following a falling out, the writer’s inability to find inspiration in his current lover Gemma Donati (also Gal Gadot) compared to his first love Beatrice, executed in stark contrast from the much more accessible and palatable modern day crime story. A blunter way to put it is that any time the film shifts to these flashbacks, it’s quite boring and never finds a sense of rhythm, drive, or purpose.

Unquestionably, some of this is by design and baked into other elements of the presentation, which includes flashbacks only receiving color as a means of implying that they were more enriching days for artistic freedom and integrity, compared to the black-and-white 2000s material that further homes in on greed and only financial gain for a manuscript no one even knows how to price if it turns out to be authenticated. Expanding on that thought, there are certainly no qualms to be had with the striking cinematography from Roman Vasyanov.

The other encroaching thought here is that, for as carefully considered as the film looks and as captivating as about half the performances are (we truly do not need to talk anymore about Gal Gadot and Jason Momoa, neither of whom can deliver convincing accents without eliciting laughs), it’s not going anywhere interesting, especially once the mobsters exit the narrative. Technically, they are replaced by a hitman, although a lengthy amount of time is spent watching Nick fly around the world for different aspects of the identification process, sometimes involving technology that even he doesn’t understand and tunes out of. In the novel, there appears to be a greater emphasis on Nick’s inner thoughts about the current state of the art world and on finding flaws in classic works or restrictive prose, which is alluded to here but not interrogated enough to emerge as a compelling element. It’s enough to make one wonder what else was lost in translation from the book.

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The filmmakers seem to think the romantic subplot will sustain intrigue for the second half, but it’s devoid of emotion and comes across as aimless in the 14th-century portion. At a certain point, one simply longs for a more focused movie about mobsters stealing recently discovered historic manuscripts for profit; it’s far more fun and amusing than the rest of the sluggish, artfully tedious In the Hand of Dante. No one here seems to realize that this should be a comedic crime caper, and it works that way until it takes itself far too seriously, with flashbacks that bore rather than provide insight or meaningful context.

Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★

Robert Kojder

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=embed/playlist

 

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