Big Screen Peter: The Beaver

Editor’s note: Peter Lewis has agreed to use whatever it is you call his writing style to provide some measure of analysis to those folks who still go to a theater to see a movie.

review by Peter Lewis

"The Beaver" may seem to be an unbearably bizarre movie.

The protagonist, played by Mel Gibson, communicates with the world around him through a rodent hand puppet. And if that wasn’t enough, he uses a pleasant Cockney accent with which to give said puppet voice.

(Full disclosure: The Beaver was written by Kyle Killen, a man I consider to be a friend. Though it’s very possible that this designation is one-sided.)

Of course, this designation of “bizarre” is misconstrued. There is nothing bizarre about it at all.  Everyone concocts ways to handle the world around them. Some do it with sports or organizations. Some do with it with booze. Some lose themselves in mystery novels or crossword puzzles. Everyone learns how to cope with the world. We find things to distract us, to comfort us, to grant us some sense of power — even if it’s illusory.

Walter Black’s world came crashing down and he found a puppet. And through those eyes the world was easier to handle. What gives the film such emotional resonance is the connection we have with that sort of helplessness. And, quite frankly, the role seems born for Mel Gibson. He plays Walter Black with such accessible depth, it’s as if he had been through this before. And he very well might have, as anyone can recognize, the man is a seriously troubled individual.

It is those off-screen behavioral issues that may cause some to shy away from The Beaver (and the box-office evidence from its limited run shows seems to indicate that people are balking). However, such equivocating is ill-advised, not just because the film is so beautiful and moving, but because the purpose of cinema is to grant an escape of sorts, to synthesize realities in a way that elicits untapped emotions within the audience. Because of that, the worlds on the screen must be kept apart from the sordid tales of the players personal lives. The pomposity of spirit that cries out to boycott a film based on the behavior of an actor is foolishly misguided. If you’re unable to separate reality from your cinematic experience, you don’t need to be out of the house.

If the early returns are an indicator, it’s quite unlikely that the River Valley will even get a chance to view this gem.

Directed by and co-starring Jodie Foster, "The Beaver" is much more than just a tale of Walter Black. Gibson is wonderfully supported throughout by his unique rapport with Foster, while the story itself deftly weaves an intricate portrait of a disintegrating family.

Foster is over-worked and desperately hanging on to her maternalism as she tries to create a semblance of normalcy for her two children. The youngest is Henry (Riley Thomas Stewart), an immaculate sad-sack without much drive beyond an ability to disappear in plain sight. His older brother, Porter (Anton Yelchin), is paranoid about becoming his father, tracking his various ticks in a bid to eventually best them in his quest for normalcy. His distaste for his own skin has led him to create an interesting sideline business, bilking fellow students in exchange for writing unique papers in their voice.

What complaints exist for "The Beaver" are small. The back and forth between Porter and his love interest seemed a bit trite. Something about the mutually splenetic behavior felt off and slightly forced. Though, in the face of such a wonderful film, such complaints seem miniscule.

"The Beaver" is an impressive film, full of dark humor and emotional resonance. Foster does a fine job behind the camera and in-front, but the show is Gibson’s to sell. And if the film is based solely on his performance, we’d be talking awards right now. He hasn’t been this subtly comic, this deeply emotional … this nuanced in years, if ever.

As it stands now, this is one of the must-see films of the young year.

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