There’s a Netflix movie, at least I recently saw it on Netflix though I don’t know that it’s actually their own, called Pottersville. It concerns, among other things, furries.
Attacking weird concepts is a great strength of comedy. If you inserted, say, characters who like to dress up as costumed animals into a serious drama, you would feel compelled to make being a furry something of relevance. Something of, perhaps, metaphorical importance. A drastic personality trait with layers upon layers of meaning. A furrie cake, if you will.
Instead, in Pottersville, it’s simply something people like to do. Just as you might enjoy a morning jog, or I might enjoy going to the play at the theater. These people go to the middle of the woods, light a few fires, and dance around while dressed like bunnies and wolves and foxes. It’s all good.
Pottersville does a great job of giving this the same treatment as any other odd hobby. In general, the film does a great job presenting the quirks of a small town without judgment. Characters within the movie have personalities, goals and dreams that seem just as real and relevant as those in steamy New York romances, and gritty crime dramas. They’re just as desperate to find the lives they want. Just the stuff is desperate to find a story to be a part of. And that’s cool. It is, in fact, funny and engaging.
One of the beautiful things about being creative is that you can take your story, your vision and make it whatever you want. My laptop, right now, has as its background girl writing a flying sea turtle over some sort of urban coast. This eternal has wings instead of fins. Does it make any sense? Of course not. But then, to whom ever created, and must’ve presented itself. A vision to be made something more.
That’s a Pottersville is. Someone came up with the story, wrote it down in a number of other folks banded together to film and. It’s pretty neat that they can take something so small and weird and turn it into something, well, slightly larger and still weird.
Sidenote: It’s often funny to me to look up a movie after I’ve seen it (particularly one I didn’t know existed till it showed up on Netflix and we chose it at random) and find out that critics generally thought Pottersville was boring and unoriginal. In this case, I’m glad I saw the film before reading the reviews, or I’m sure we wouldn’t have watched it. Differing opinions are par for the course in a subjective medium, I suppose.