Hello My Beautiful Creatures

Hello My Beautiful Creatures A monumental film that flaunts its monumentality through its flaws-no, actually, because of its flaws, it highlights its own monumentality.

The fact that its shoestring budget is constantly shoved in our faces-roughly six times per second (I think that's the frame rate they shot at)-makes every moment more vivid, every movement more impactful, precisely because you can feel the effort behind it. A film about effort that tells the story of a god who doesn't exert any effort.

And, of course, it explores so much more. Despite its excessive runtime (excessive? It's the longest stop-motion film in cinema history), it uses that time to crack open countless doors, ignite endless conversations and ideas-so many that even if not all of them are neatly wrapped up, it hardly matters. By the end-finally-you're left with so many threads to hold onto, follow, and contemplate.

It must have been a life-altering experience to shoot (a month locked in a house with his co-director and lead actor), but I'd argue it's an experience to watch, too. And a bit of an ordeal.

Which makes sense. I accept it.

Grandiosity is a pain in the neck.

Jesus Christ, early into this movie I jokingly called it "a Disneyfied Mad God," and I didn't know how right I would be.

I think knowing as little as possible going into this movie is probably the best way to watch it. I kept expecting the novelty to wear off, or the jokes to get stale, or the story to just sputter out. But it never stopped. The drama only got stronger, the jokes got funnier, and the twists became that much more painful.

My only complaints are that it's a little longer than I liked, and the low framerate was distracting. That being said, it is incredible that this, one of the longest stop motion movies ever made, was able to be done with just a few thousand dollars and a few months of time. All I can say is "bravo," and "more please."

A few things that amazed me: The huge cast The musical numbers The house fire The emotional charge of the violence, it is very painful.

I'm increasingly confused why Joel is so interested in specifically creating feature films. The feature is heavily romanticized among filmmakers but, otherwise, I really don't understand his draw to that specific format.

For once I don't mean this as an insult, but Joel and the feature films seem to be particularly ill-paired to one another. As I watch more of his films, I keep finding myself thinking that they really just want to be shorts. This isn't me trying to pigeon-hole Joel and tell him to go back to making YouTube videos, but short films have historically been the home of experimentation and Joel seems to mesh much better with that side of filmmaking than with the grander narrative, which always ends up feeling like a tacked on excuse for him to be able to try something out. I would love to see him experiment with short films outside of the comedy sketches that he's already proven himself in, and frankly it would offer him much greater flexibility.

And the fact that he's proven himself in shorts makes the whole thing extra weird to me. Most filmmakers lose money by funding their own shorts so that they can take techniques back to more financially viable features. But with Joel it's the opposite, he's losing money on these features compared to what he could be doing.

EDIT: He's not losing money and many that work with him don't get paid. He has a Patreon and he collects revenue from his YouTube account.

What makes it extra extra weird is that "feature" is an arbitrary time classification whose primary function is to drive marketability and distribution. It's a financially driven form, which is a part of filmmaking that Joel seems particularly at odds with. Especially considering that he generally likes to disregard conventions of the medium, I find myself wondering why this of all things is one that he is determined to adhere to.

I genuinely believe that Joel thinks he wants to be working in features, but I remain much less convinced.

It's difficult for me to watch a Joel Haver film without falling in love with it. Being a fan of his and understanding his commentary on film definitely makes me biased, so maybe I'll revisit this rating later on, but for now:

Wow. Nothing short of incredible. The characters were developed so well - especially for a filmmaker who DOES NOT SCRIPT HIS MOVIES. The humanity in these toys came out naturally. The process of the film and the love of the story is in the very molecular structure of these lil plastic guys.

I really enjoyed how serious of a film this was. Knowing that each plot point was decided on the spot means Joel really had to sit there and think "what am I trying to say here?" I understand there is value in fully planning out a film, but the messiness that comes along with the message of this film is so realistic. When does anyone ever truly have a clear stance on something? When do we ever fully understand an issue? Isn't our most honest view on something found in the moment that someone asks "what do you think of this?" on the spot? I'm going on a tangent here, but all of this is to say that Hello My Beautiful Creatures takes a very real approach to ideology. As storytellers it is important to remember that we feel the things we care about - we don't always think about them. Joel creates based on feeling, in the moment, wearing his heart on his sleeve. And how ironic is it that this film shows the dangers of acting emotionally and without logic? Incredible.