We open on two guys seated, fishing off a pier on a lake. Suddenly a speed boat powers past them–and a freeze frame captures the watercraft in all its splendor as a super informs us that we’re about to witness Triumph Boats’ “Divine Intervention Test.”
Back to the duo on the pier–one a youngster who says, “Sure wish we had a boat.”
His companion, a wise, elderly minister replies, “Me too. But you know God’s spiritual gifts are greater.”
The scene then cuts to a truck trailer transporting several boats along a mountain road. Appearing out of thin air in the truck’s front passenger seat–seemingly unbeknownst to the driver–is a man who presses a nearby button, which releases one of the boats onto the roadway. The man then disappears in the blink of an eye.
Another truck then comes barrelling down the road, and hits the boat, sending it flying across the roadside brush and off a steep embankment towards the lake, clearing the two fishermen who opened the spot and landing before them in the water. The boat is virtually unscathed.
The youngster, grateful for the gift apparently from above, says a heartfelt, “Thank you, Jesus.”
An end tag carries the Triumph logo, along with the slogan, “The world’s toughest boats.”
“Divine Intervention” was directed by Wayne Gibson of Mad Fish Films, Richmond, Va., for agency The Republik, Durham, N.C.
The Republik team consisted of creative director/copywriter David Smith, art director David Avis and producer Robert Shaw West.
Barry Landon exec produced and produced for Mad Fish. The DP was Bunt Young.
Editor was Scott Witthaus of Richmond-based Thoughtstream, Media.
Does “Hundreds of Beavers” Reflect A New Path Forward In Cinema?
Hard as it may be to believe, changing the future of cinema was not on Mike Cheslik's mind when he was making "Hundreds of Beavers." Cheslik was in the Northwoods of Wisconsin with a crew of four, sometimes six, standing in snow and making his friend, Ryland Tews, fall down funny.
"When we were shooting, I kept thinking: It would be so stupid if this got mythologized," says Cheslik.
And yet, "Hundreds of Beavers" has accrued the stuff of, if not quite myth, then certainly lo-fi legend. Cheslik's film, made for just $150,000 and self-distributed in theaters, has managed to gnaw its way into a movie culture largely dominated by big-budget sequels.
"Hundreds of Beavers" is a wordless black-and-white bonanza of slapstick antics about a stranded 19th century applejack salesman (Tews) at war with a bevy of beavers, all of whom are played by actors in mascot costumes.
No one would call "Hundreds of Beavers" expensive looking, but it's far more inventive than much of what Hollywood produces. With some 1,500 effects shots Cheslik slaved over on his home computer, he crafted something like the human version of Donald Duck's snowball fight, and a low-budget heir to the waning tradition of Buster Keaton and "Naked Gun."
At a time when independent filmmaking is more challenged than ever, "Hundreds of Beavers" has, maybe, suggested a new path forward, albeit a particularly beaver-festooned path.
After no major distributor stepped forward, the filmmakers opted to launch the movie themselves, beginning with carnivalesque roadshow screenings. Since opening in January, "Hundreds of Beavers" has played in at least one theater every week of the year, though never more than 33 at once. (Blockbusters typically play in around 4,000 locations.)... Read More