A third of the way into this thing I told my companion that I'd bet money it was directed by some kid from New York out of film school who obviously did not grow up in the South and doesn't really know the South. Apparently i was correct. The picture is a bluff. Shallow, phony, underdeveloped characters. A lot of pretentious symbolism, shaky camera, and very annoying, distancing music (third rate Phllip Glass stuff, courtesy of the director). It strives for something in the vein of Terence Malick, I guess. Less than halfway through I didn't really care. A very long ninety minutes, only for the gullible. I'm a big fan of the kind of film this one pretends to be. I love Cassavetes and Malick and embrace all manner of cinema, from pulp to classic noir to art house and foreign cinema going back to the Silent Era. But I kinda hate this phony little movie. Even the little girl's performance is being highly overrated by those easily impressed and amused out there. You've been warned .
Review of Beasts of the Southern Wild
