One Of 2024's Wackiest Comedies Used Absolutely Zero Improv [Exclusive]

Trying to sell someone on the indie comedy "Hundreds of Beavers" is an exercise in comedic persuasion. Do you talk about how it's a black-and-white movie without dialogue evoking the approach of Charlie Chaplin? Do you highlight the slapstick physical comedy that would make "The Three Stooges" proud? Or do you simply say, "This dude fights people in animal mascot suits in the snow" and let the universe work its magic? First debuting on the festival circuit in 2022 and now finally available on VOD, "Hundreds of Beavers" has quietly become the must-see oddball indie flick for cinephiles everywhere. It's a seemingly algorithm-proof movie that, as /Film's Matt Donato described in his review, exists at the crossroads of Looney Tunes, Benny Hill, "Cannibal: The Musical," "Blazing Saddles," and Adult Swim mindsets. It's also a delightfully Midwest movie, embracing a sense of humor that has been missing from major comedy films for far too long.

"There's a different sense of humor — there's an earnestness, maybe," co-writer and director Mike Cheslik tells me. "I also think the coasts have a lot of that improv comedy tradition. Obviously, Second City in Chicago is a huge source of comedy, but I will generally say [that] I think there's something about physical comedy in the Midwest where Midwest comedy is about making fun of each other for doing something wrong or doing a job wrong or physically being unable to do something." Coastal comedy tends to be more verbal, Cheslik explained (and I agree), whereas there's something physical embedded in Midwest humor. Lest we forget, the Chris Farley physical comedy classic "Tommy Boy" was originally titled "Billy The Third: A Midwestern."

"Hundreds of Beavers" looks like it plays fast and loose with its structure and performances given the playful energy, but not only did Cheslik meticulously storyboard the film, but there was also absolutely no improv during the making of the movie.

With so many actors in mascot costumes, I asked Cheslik if their limited visibility required a change to his directing style. He joked, "I provide direction the same way I always do: Just by screaming at my friends. If you put someone in a horrible situation and then they just react naturally to that, we said, 'Don't act like an animal. Don't research beavers. Just be a guy in a suit and do your very best to hit your mark and when you screw up, it will be funny.'" One of the core tenants of improv comedy is "dare to fail," so I inquired if his flexibility with actors "screwing up" meant there was room for improv.

"I did not mean to provide any sort of support for improv as an art form. I did not mean to condone improv. I condemn improv," Cheslik joked. "When I said spontaneity, I meant a guy missing his mark by six inches, and I think, 'Ah, that's a pretty funny little failure.' This movie was boarded from stem to stern." The film followed the boards to perfection because accuracy is the key to quality slapstick. When the barn side famously fell down around Buster Keaton by Keaton safely standing in the spot where an open window would hit the ground, that gag had to be down to an exact science. Or else, well, no more Buster Keaton. "I hope the future is precise physical comedy and an animation pipeline with boards, no improv coverage of people in singles talking. It was very little, very few changes from the storyboards," said Cheslik.

If the result is more movies like "Hundreds of Beavers," I hope he's right. You can hear my entire interview with him on today's episode of the /Film Daily podcast, which is available now:

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