Magical realism for dummies.
You'd think such a gawkishly shot film would be disqualified from any top ten lists by default. But quite the opposite.
Right away the camera is the hardest thing to ignore, in a constant, restless search for a striking image and never finding one; it's a needy camera, following every action, clinging to every character, maybe in hope of finding truths where the script can't provide any.
Does the movie earn its right to break into repeated celebration about communal life of the poor and outcast? Hardly. Not that it stages or frames any of the gatherings adeptly. The crowds are more incoherent and loony than brimming with life. Zeitlin just doesn't find the right rhythm (this applies to the music too). He employs the sort of artsy brute force shaky cam that surely should be illegal in the year 2012 in any country with even the most basic cinematic sensibilities.
And by God, if you have to rely on autofocus, make sure it doesn't constantly go haywire, or maybe just do another take. Can you believe there are critics who actually compare Zeitlin's visual anarchy to Malick? Neither can I.
I'm looking for something to praise here, but so little in Beasts rings true; none of the performances outside of the brave Quvenzhané Wallis'. Dwight Henry, just to name one, plays the dad as an abusive, deranged despot, but is clearly meant to be a flawed but caring and strong-willed father.
Among the nicest things I can say about it is that it's only 90 minutes long.