The Beaver

The Beaver was a much read and much liked original screenplay by Kyle Killen that many--including me--read long before we saw the film.  It was considered a hot script, but I never thought it would be any good as a movie. It seemed like a Jim Carry vehicle with a zany premise and a few emotionally charged dramatic scenes that vainly attempt to give it a sense of depth.  But in the hands of Jodie Foster and Mel Gibson it becomes a far more melancholy dramatic film with almost zero humor, and that's actually kind of a good thing.  No matter what one thinks of Gibson in real life, there is no denying that he is a fine actor.  He totally gives himself over to the pain and loneness of Walter Black, a man so broken he can only communicate through a hand-puppet.

The film is a credible exploration of mental illness through the filter of Hollywood high-concept, family-dynamic narrative.  The film finds it depth, not in Gibson’s rise to power via his strange condition, but through the subplots of how his children are affected.  Anton Yelchin (Charlie Bartlet, Like Crazy) gives a terrific performance as the older son and Jennifer Lawrence (the wonderful young lead of last year’s Winter’s Bone) is enchanting as the object of his desire.  It is the subplot between these two younger characters that make the film work.  The one person miscast is actually Jodie Foster, who’s dynamic personna doesn’t fit well into the standard coping-mother role. If Foster has a weakness as an actress it’s that she can’t play second banana to anyone, even when she’s the director of the film