"Boggy Creek" (2010) d/Bryan T. Jaynes

 Some of you readers closer to my age will fondly recall the first time movie cameras visited Boggy Creek back in 1972, when the prolific Crabtree family's backwoods tranquility was violently disturbed by a belligerent bigfoot, and Fouke, Arkansas would never be the same. In 2010, filmmakers would again focus on the area's swampy hominid, but the results bear little resemblance to it's cult classic predecessor. The Crabtrees have been replaced by horny party slags in bikinis, the autobiographical folk tunes have disappeared, leaving terribly forgettable 90's-esque alternative pop numbers and simulated cowgirl-style sex in their wake. Sounds like empty-headed fun, in theory...


"My abs and I are enjoying a pensive moment."
After her father is tragically smooshed in traffic while jogging on the side of the road (or as we former drunk drivers used to call it , twenty points), Jennifer is easily convinced by pal of color, Maya, to like, make for her late father's cabin, nestled in Boggy Creek, for some therapeutic rest n' relaxation. Only Maya has taken it upon herself to invite her prankster boyfriend, Troy (Bryan Massey), along for the vacay, and her Matchbox 20-looking buddy, Dave (Damon Lipari), who's taken it upon himself to invite vapid cooze, Brooke (Stephanie Honore'), for partying purposes, and because she won't shy away from a good cocking down. If you're keeping score at home, that's zero dick-stractions for poor Jenny, who's been having flashbacks of being chased through the woods as a child by a sasquatch, but is a good sport afterall, and agrees to the swampy soiree.


"Why I no get invited to hooman parties? I party heartily enough!"
After much lifeless deliberation that wouldn't sound out of place on a scripted reality show on MTV, Mopey's luck seems to change for the better, as Dave grows weary of clingy Brooke, and tells her to hit the bricks. She does, and is dragged off for some interspecies in n' out, by everyone's favorite hairy horndog. Jen also meets the hunky Casey (Cody Callahan), a neighbor-turned-cryptozoologist who's also been cuckolded by the boss of the woods, and despite his best warnings, Troy and Dave turn up gutted like so much tilapia, and Maya also becomes a sex worker for Sasquatch. Jennifer's only hope is a mad dash towards the highway, in hopes she doesn't end up the engine in a Bukwas love train, in the process. Insert non-twist twist ending here.


"We are Farmers...bum bum bum bum bum bum bum."
Besides the gaping deficiencies in the plot, the shaky camerawork, the grating soundtrack songs and the flatlined montage sequences that stiffly accompany them, the amateur delivery of dialog by the non-actors involved (watch Jennifer 'hyperventilate' as evidence), there's also the matter of the suit, which wouldn't make it on the discount rack of a high end costume shop. There's some gore reminiscent of Night of the Demon (1980), but it quickly sinks in the sea of suck that this movie clearly is. Leave this Bigfoot undiscovered. One wop.


I had that same face on throughout this one.

R.I.P. Julius E. "Smokey" Crabtree

                               04/22/27 - 01/16/16

"Exists" (2014) d/ Eduardo Sanchez

Found footage horror movies are nearly as lassitudinous as zombie movies at this point, more played out than neckbeards and plaid button-downs, lazier than Forrest Whitaker's left eye ptosis, by God. Found footage zombie flicks? Oh, don't even get me started on those. Luckily, tonight's review isn't one of those, it's another found footage Bigfoot movie, from the director of the found footage Blair Witch movie years ago. Normally I'd be hitting the weak points of a movie like this with the precision of the Chan man on a Wing Chun wooden dummy, but to my surprise, it's actually well-executed and effective more often than not, one of the better Bigfoot movies I've seen of late, due in part to a rather nifty bit of suitage. Probably, my main gripe with a lot of these recent Squatchploitation flicks, is I can't seem to get past a cheap, shabby-looking Bigfoot costume in this age of high tech special effects and makeup. Luckily, that's not the case here.  I've actually got to step down (briefly) from my lofty elitist soapbox to review this.


"Go ahead, light it on fire. He won't mind, so long as it doesn't catch on in the mainstream..."
Our five protagonists, Matt (Samuel Davis), Todd (Roger Edwards), Dora (Dora Madison), Brian (Chris Osborn) and Elizabeth (Denise Williamson) set out on a camping getaway to the wildnerness of Texas' Big Thicket, when their practical joke-filled night drive (they set the sleeping hipster's neckbeard on fire, nice one. Sharpie-ing your snoring buddy's grill into an unreasonable facsimile of Frank Gorshin's Bele from Star Trek is also cool.) is abruptly interrupted when they blindly swipe an unknown animal with their vehicle in the darkness. You know, I'll bet that faux pas to nature is gonna come back and bite all of you in your millenial asses. Just wait and see. The vacationing group hears the tortured wails of a wild beast in agony and after arriving at Uncle Bob's remote cabin which has fallen into a state of disrepair (and wild hog occupancy, forcing the brothers to rough it in the car that night), finds tell-tale signs of cryptid goings on in the form of blood on the fender and a tuft of unrecognizable hair in the camper's grille.


Insert obligatory "black guy, oversized weapon" joke here.
While the others enjoy lake-based horror movie horseplay, Brian unwittingly films an enormous bipedal hominid rapidly covering ground over a ridge nearby, and is met with much understandable skepticism from his friends when he tries to relate his story to them. Convinced he can further document the monster for posterity, Brian strategically sets up enough Go Pro cameras to choke Jeff Meldrum around the perimeter of the cabin, and after they're haunted by more ungodly screams that night, and Brian's cameras pick up a hulking humanoid creature headed right for the cabin.Whatever it is, it bangs on the walls and makes a roaring good cameo at one of the windows, and that's enough for the partygoers, who decide to check out the following morning. Only something has destroyed their vehicle, and it turns out that the brothers never informed Uncle Bob they'd be using his cabin, so no one knows of their plans or current location, one without the luxury of adequate cell phone reception. And here you are, arriving at Shit Creek, your complimentary canoes do not come equipped with paddles. Appropriately nutty,  moderately violent hijinks follow. See for yourselves.


"If I don't pick up the pace, Tripper's gonna make me participate in the three-legged race with Spaz..."
You'll recognize Samuel Davis from his work in Machete Kills (2013) and Sin City- A Dame to Kill For (2014), while Roger Edwards turns up in things like Circus of the Dead (2014) and 2012's Bad Kids Go to Hell. Interesting to note, Denise Williamson also appeared in 2010's Boggy Creek, which also deals with our favorite horrific hairy hominid. Cuban director Sanchez has taken the helm on the aofrementioned Blair Witch Project (1999), a segment in V/H/S/2 (2013), and several episodes of the From Dusk til Dawn tv series. I liked this effort a lot more than Blair Witch, to be honest with you. Like I said earlier, the excellent 'Squatch suit does it's part here, in elevating this one over its counterparts, with the help of a few well placed jump scares and admirable suspense sequences. You could do a lot worse, i.e. Bigfoot Wars (2014), Bigfoot The Movie (2015), Yeti (2008), Sasquatch Hunters (2005), et al. This one earns itself three solid Woppo's. Check it out, and see if you agree.


"I'm gonna count to three, and you're gonna open this door so I can show you the dynamic cleaning capabilities of this Electrolux Ergorapido 2-in-1 stick/hand vacuum cleaner!!!"

"Willow Creek" (2013) d/ Bobcat Goldthwait

Remember the first time you saw a "found footage" style horror movie? Most folks can recall their fiftieth at this point in the copycat sweepstakes we used to call a horror genre. Found footage cannibals. Found footage zombies. Found footage daikaiju. Found footage demonic possession. Found footage Leatherface. Uncle, already.  Tonight's review is a Bigfoot twist on the style, though not even the first one, as I believe 2012's Bigfoot: The Lost Coast Tapes owns that dubious distinction, if I'm not too A.M-delirious to say for sure. One thing Willow Creek can boast of, is being the only Bigfoot-based found footage film directed by Shakes the Clown. From the first time I read about this one, I was already well curious to see it, being a long time proponent of hairy hominid-based horror flicks, but the driving force behind my desire was the fact that I'd never laughed at anything I'd ever seen Bobcat Goldthwait in, as far as I can remember. The high pitched screech thing he always seemed to be doing only ever got on my nerves. So, if comedy isn't the guy's strong suit, maybe he's a natural for horror? Open-minded I try to remain at all times.


Look, it's a couple of goofy tourists documenting their dinner for posterity, my favorite...
We meet Jim (Bryce Johnson) and his girlfriend Kelly (Alexie Gilmore) as they embark on a road trip to Bluff Creek in California, the secluded location off of the Klamath River where would be adventurers Roger Patterson and Bob Gimlin bumped into and briefly filmed an adult female Sasquatch that's been dubbed "Patty" over the years, or Bob Hieronimus in a monkey suit that was intricate for it's time, depending on who you talk to. Either way, Jim is thoroughly convinced that several local disappearances can be attributed to angry wood boogers, while Kelly is merely along for the ride to provide skeptical smartassery and generally break his balls as he attempts to document the entire experience for a personal film project, a life long dream he's had. Women. If you weren't so damned adorable and delicious...


"Pete, hand Sasquatch the level, would ya, fer cryin' out loud?!!?"
At first, like a pair of hit-starved YouTubers they film on the side of winding mountain roads, providing documentary-style narration and in-camera edits as they question local Indian women about personal encounters, hear portly cryptozoologists cackle Bigfoot songs as they fumble over acoustic guitars, eat massive Bigfoot burgers at a tourist trap in Willow Creek, but as Kelly's teasing drives Jim to take the project further in seeking out the Bluff Creek river bed where the 1967 film was shot, they encounter interference in the form of angry country folk who tell 'em to g'wan an' git while they still can. Refusing to am-scray in the face of backwoods adversity, Jim hikes his girlfriend into the deep forest anyway and it isn't long before the signature wood knocks and high-pitched screams join the clueless campers, clearly in over their fool-heads already. While trying to vacate the premises in haste, Jim manages to get them lost, even stumbling upon the historic river bed, complete with giant footprints in the mud that look awfully fresh. Men. You gotta love us. It all wraps up much like one might predict it would, at least I know I called it during the coming attractions. Actually, as the cashier was handing me the bag with the disc inside and my change, but hey...


The Yacumos have the tent surrounded but we're gonna keep film-...sorry, wrong movie.
I dunno, maybe I'm tougher to please than I originally thought, but if you're gonna do a Bigfoot movie in my estimation, the opportunity arises these days to hire stellar FX artists to whip you up the most realistic, believable suit you can afford, for the film's big money shot, if there is a big money shot, that is. Bobcat felt the movie didn't need one, for whatever reason, probably in sticking as close as possible to the wildly popular Blair Witch bargain mold. With no real pay off to speak of after building admirable levels of tension in the tent sequence (unless the nekkid hillbilly chick turns you on, of course), the ending seems a little flat and cheap for a horror movie. Mainstream chimps might be satisfied with the fifteen minutes of general concern that preceded, but like I said, I'm probably tougher to please than the average cymbal smasher that Hollywood targets with these things. The potential was definitely there, but unrealized in the end, unfortunately. Overall, it's still worth seeing. On the scale, two Wops will have to do for Zed from the Police Academy gang's directorial debut.


"Look over in the treeline...I think I see Egg Stork from 'One Crazy Summer'..."

The Bukwas Stops Here: My Favorite Bigfoot Movies

Whether or not you believe in some hidden race of yet undiscovered nine foot tall wood-boogers is irrelevant when it comes to the bossman of the forest's varied silver screen appearances over the years, providing viewers with both shocks n' shlock in everything from half-baked mockumentaries to vintage porn. Whatever your preference in cinematic bipedal crypto-primates may be, there's probably something you'll enjoy here. Or laugh hysterically at, in some(most, really) cases.




16) Legend of Bigfoot(1976)

"That's not Bigfoot! That's my wife!" might sound like the punchline to a joke, but it could also double as the synopsis for this mockumentary by legendary outdoorsman and hoaxer, Ivan Marx.




15) Beauties and the Beast(1974)

"Hey Mack, would you mind telling that leg-jacked bimbo underneath you that your bag is slappin' off of to roll slightly to the right? She's on top of my leaf pouch and my magic berries are in there..."



14) Bigfoot(1970)

D-cupped go-go girls get lugged off by libidinous mate-starved monsters(translation: phony-looking monkey suits) while John Carradine enlists teenaged dirtbikers to help him blow off dynamite on even phonier-looking sets.





13) Capture of Bigfoot(1979)

Forget about the embarrassing white Bigfoot suit that belongs on a Lost in Space set chasing Dr. Smith around some foam boulders for a minute, and realize that this movie houses one of the most ridiculous dummy shots in cinema history.



12) Snowbeast(1977)

'Jaws'(1975) in the made-for-tv snow; tough guy Bo Svenson hogs eighty-six minutes of screen time, the Yeti gets two.



11) Sasquatch-The Legend of Bigfoot(1977)

A mid-seventies mockumentary with more padding than payoff, but if baggy gorilla suits silhouetted against the skyline, staged animal attacks, and encounter dramatizations are what socks it to you, then here you are. The much scrutinized Patterson/Gimlin Big Suit footage also figures prominently, as one would expect in this type of thing.



 10) Mysterious Monsters(1975)

That mask-uatch bears a striking resemblance to Rene Auberjonois.  Peter Graves also says "Ah."




9) The Untold(2002)

Lance Henriksen and pals search the dense forest for his missing daughter and his company's missing DNA sequencing technology and are, in turn, hunted down, one by one like animals by what's tantamount to the live-action version of this guy right here.



8) Yeti - il gigante del 20. secolo(1977)

Whatsa mattah you, Italian Disco-Yeti, why you change-ah you size right-ah before my very eyes-ah?




7) Curse of Bigfoot(1975)

This movie is undeniable proof that Bigfoot doesn't exist, because, if he did, he'd surely lumber down out of the wilderness and put his colossal skunk apey foot up the asses of everybody that was still alive that had a hand in making this one. Pure rotten enjoyment.



6) Abominable(2006)

Bigfoot bites a guy's head in half like a goo-filled chocolate easter bunny. Do I really need to add anything to that?



5) Shriek of the Mutilated(1974)

The greatest global-networking-cannibal-cult-uses-yeti-as-a-cover-to-eat-groovy-collegiates movie ever made.



4) Creature From Black Lake(1976)

A hippified conscientious objector named Rives and a 'Nam vet  named Pahoo who hates fried chicken, on an Bigfoot investigative grant from college, drive to the bayou and encounter amorous hillbilly girls, Jack Elam in his long johns, and are serenaded by Dub Taylor's countrified warbling. Bigfoot is not amused.





3)The Legend of Boggy Creek(1972)

John Chesna knows every word to this movie and sings all the songs, you don't even have to ask him to, most of the time. I hear Smokey may even make him an honorary Crabtree in a ceremony someday down there in the lonely bottoms.




2) Horror Express(1972)

When an ancient brain-sucking alien intelligence inhabits a suddenly unfrozen 'squatch on a passenger train, you'd better make sure Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing are on board. Cossack Telly cracks a mean interrogative lash, too. Old school late night television delight.



1) Night of the Demon (1980)

Anyone who's seen this one knows full well, this movie lost it's footing during the pre-credit sequence and plunged headlong into a fifty-five gallon vat of crazy, from which some good egg threw it a towline comprised entirely of insane gore set pieces, but despite game rescue attempts, it drowned in the fucking crazy, any ol' ways.

"The Legend of Boggy Creek"(1972)d/Charles B. Pierce

We'll lumber into the month of April with a drive-in classic right out of the shadowy bottomlands of seventies' Texarkana folklore, as realized by local ad salesman and film set decorator Charles B. Pierce largely on a hundred thousand dollar donation by one of his clients, only to return some twenty-five million dollars at the box-office to date, standing as one of the most successful films of 1972.With the aforementioned budget limitations, Pierce cast his movie with many locals, using a gaggle of high schoolers as a makeshift film crew and approaching would-be actors with his plans while haunting a gas station(!) while producing, directing, filming, and even crooning the title track himself, resulting in a shabby-yet-authentic feel to his cryptozoological mockumentary, which would later inspire genre hit The Blair Witch Project(1999).The memorable artwork for the one sheet, as seen above, was supplied by none other than Ralph McQuarrie, who also designed the original Star Wars trilogy.The titular "Fouke Monster" has been reportedly seen by the southern Arkansas community as far back as the fifties, described as a hulking reddish-brown hominid of abhorrent fragrance, lonely cry, and giant three-toed footprints that it's been known to leave in the surrounding beanfields, and upon the eyewitness testimony of these townsfolk Pierce drew his own inspiration.Despite some amateur camerawork, acting performances, and a creature that looks at a glance to be a combination of a Howard Stern wig and a cheap gorilla costume, this one is probably the most terrifying G rated movie ever made this side of The Apple Dumpling Gang(1975), Escape to Witch Mountain(1975), or Benji the Hunted(1987).

"ZOMG! The hen just layed like, FOUR EGGS.."
After endless fuzzy eco-shots of wetlands and wilderness are interrupted by the Fouke monster's trademark 'lonely cry'(more resembles somebody taking a blowtorch to a baboon's egg purse, but that's just me), we see the narrator(Vern Stierman) as a young boy(Chuck Pierce, Jr) excitedly hurrying through countless fields to get to a country store, where he tells the local rocking chair set about a wild man terrorizing his family's home nearby, resulting in the coots laughingly promising to fix the wagon of any hairy varmints at a later date and sending him off.On-screen testimonial and lo-fi re-enactments of encounters with the creature from residents with expositive narration about Fouke's swampy and desolate locale follows; the prodigious Crabtree family apportions much of this screen time to their avail: Smokey's got a colossal hat, while teen trapper/fisher extraordinaire, Travis, is later immortalized in a frothy country ballad that'd break Boxcar Willie out in hives.To further serve the deceased Equus ferus caballus the taste of the lash, Buddy Crabtree's playing James Crabtree, and Jeff Crabtree is in the role of Fred Crabtree, both of whom flounder into the creature's path packing redneck heat with similarly anti-climactic results."He always travels the creeks...", notes the narrator, matter-of-factly.He also likes to peep tom around Mary Beth Searcy's pad, with a hot lead-tittie hereby administered by swamp-savvy Travis directly afterwards; a moment of silence for the kitteh, expiring from fright during the night.Wounded, the beast still manages to punk out the finest hunting dogs that Texas and Arkansas had to offer, respectively, in a hunt that goes as well as DAC on Showtime at the Apollo.Then the real terror begins in the form of a wildlife montage accompanied by a bromidic ballad as cackled by the film's director.C'mon everybody, sing along at home:This is how the story plaaaaays, a world on which we seldom gaaaaze, apagefromthebookofyesterdaaaaays...

She was astounded to find 1962 on the back porch, looking for it's 'secretary look' back...
Hey Travis Crabtree, wait a minute for meee.Let's go back in the bottoms, back where the fish are bitin', where all the world's inviiiiiitin'...Herb Jones, on the other hand, enjoys the secluded penetralia of his shack out in the bottoms, visited occasionally by those Crabtree boys what furnish him tobacco and sugar and whatnot.Though the penurious old codger who once blew part of his foot away in a boating(?) accident makes for intriguing filler, his segment is creature-free.Some footprint investigation and speculation thereafter segues us into Bessie Smith's encounter with the unkempt brute, who then procedes to intrude on three isolated girls' pajama party as a gent named Walraven reports on his hide-ripped hound from a nearby mobile home."The creeks...he always travels the creeks.", adds the narrator.Next, Charles Turner and Don Ford, two locally employed cattlehands, move their wives and small children into a small house together to conserve money, only to have the infernal wretch harrass their lonely wives, until they're forced to flee to the landlord, who's gotta be distantly related to Tarantino somehow, I'm telling ya.The next day Bobby Ford and young Corky Hill find strange three-toed footprints in the mud while fishing Boggy Creek for a minute, and that very night, the Fouke monster is fixin' to return; to shamble around their property, sticking a hairy mitt through the bathroom window while Bobby's dumping for knowledge.The men of the house fire several rounds at the cryptid, which a constable later dismisses as a panther that's been living underneath the house, from the porch.After much fart-assing about with flashlights in the dark, the creature man-in-a-suit-handles Bobby, causing the traumatized hillbilly to crash through the front door while it's closed, in a state of stupefaction.Bobby recovers rapidly, and the Fords and Turners?Well, they mosey outta town with no future plans of ever returning, believe you me, Buster.Finally, we see the adult narrator revisiting the empty house, pondering the existence of such things and mysterious sounds in the night.Another monster howl cues a longer, more embarrassing reprise of the embarrassing main theme over a title montage...

Hey, what's (insert-your-mother's-name-here)'s swampy bottom doing out here in the swampy bottoms?
This one goes out, hands down, to Chesna, a cat I met through Doc that helped keep me reviewing flicks after my zine stint through his Bigfoot website; probably the only guy on this plane of existence that can pretty much recite tonight's review, verbatim.He'll even sing both tunes for you, as I learned one summer night while zooted sac around a fire at his place.Once we get the upcoming YouTube channel off the ground, you can expect to see and hear some of just what the hell I'm talkin' about, oh my cohorts.My earliest memories of this one stem from late night network television broadcasts as a young jar o'sauce, making light of the monkey suit with my kindred movie spirits and laughing at Bobby Ford busting through the door in a state of shock.What can I say, we were an odd conglomerate, me and my lads.I can throw this one(I dove at the Hen's Tooth bare bones dvd on sight, years ago) in every once in a while, and it takes me right back to those glorious days where anything seemed possible. Though Boggy Creek, from a technical standpoint, would merit somewhere between one and two Wops, I'm forced to give it the entertainment value score instead, which is three Big ones, all the way.A cult classic in every sense of the term.

" 'Try Texarkana, Louie,' you said.'There's bound to be bananas down there,' you said."

"Yeti"(2007)d/Paul Ziller

The people behind the original made-for-television movies being churned out for the Sy Fy Network are nothing, if not consistent. Add Yeti, which was apparently known as Raksha:Curse of the Snow Demon at one point, to the over-brimming list of z-grade genre fare the station unapologetically serves up on a regular basis.Yeti makes 1977's Snow Beast,a Jaws ripoff tele-pic starring Bo Swenson, look like Eleanor and Franklin: The White House Years,and its...ahem...director(used loosely here), Paul Ziller, makes Troma's Lloyd Kaufman look like Steven Spielberg.I'm exaggerating here, right? Unfortunately, no, I'm really not.Everything about this production is laughably bad.Everyone involved should be thoroughly ashamed of themselves.Dom DeLuise's oldest son, Peter, once had a flourishing career on television's 21 Jump Street at the end of the eighties.Johnny Depp was also on that show, now earning a staggering seventy-five million dollars a year in movies.Peter's in Yeti.Ed Marinaro was once a rising star on hit series Hill Street Blues at the outset of the eighties.His co-star,Daniel Travanti won two Emmys and a Golden Globe.Ed was in Yeti.
Doc n' I set out to get through this travesty last night, with the aid of a sizeable helping of Nagasaki Devil's Food cake to blur the lines of difficulty in undertaking such a task.Having personally sat through ten whole minutes of it the day I picked it out of a WalMart five dollar bin(the movie should be given away free in boxes of trash bags as "starter garbage"), I should have known better.Unintentional laughs followed.Ninety minutes worth.My roommate's annoying habit of repeatedly bringing up the "time remaining" display made perfect sense for once.How much longer.Okay,how about now?

Marc Menard as...Peyton Elway. Oh, you clever writers!
The "State College Grizzlies" are a collegiate football team(whose colors are brown-on-brown and whose gear looks to have been purchased at a flea market)flying to Japan for a bowl game,when their cgi plane crashes in the Himalayas(or Canada) during an electrical storm.The survivors(those would be the people still talking and moving, usually with some sort of blood appliance somewhere on their faces)include Peyton Elway(Marc Menard), the hot shot quarterback, Sarah(Carly Pope), the one girl not impressed with Elway's sub-Photo Shop level sports magazine articles,and Kyra(Elfina Luk), a dreadlocked Asian whiner, all look pretty comfortable arguing in light hoodies and short sleeved polos for people that have crashed into the caps of a mountain range permanently covered with snow and below the freezing point temerature-wise most of the year.So they huddle around a fire about the size of the right front grill on your stove and bicker about cannibalism amongst themselves.Two sportos venture out into the elements looking for the plane's radio, but they find the cave of the fearsome Yeti instead.While one jock is instantly a goner, the other, more resilient meathead fractures both his legs in fleeing the murderous creature,using both the plane's radio and his dead buddy's severed forearm as makeshift leg splints.Back at the fuselage, three energy bars aren't providing the daily caloric intake these sportos need to maintain physical excellence,so Peyton waltzes over to the line of frozen bodies with a shard of glass and comes back to the fire with six perfect,bloodless cube-chunks of spam and a sheet of metal from the wreck to fry them up on.Quarterback, hell, this guy's a surgeon.

In a pinch, a rubber severed arm makes a handy splint for a broken leg.
Inexplicably, the oriental shitlocked hippie sets the frozen bodies on fire to keep her friends,who turned to cannibalism after all of one day of being stranded, from eating them(explain to me again how cooking flesh renders it inedible,please?), and the titular snowman with a prostethic sagital crest like an Italian floor vase from making off with them to its lair,sub-video game level cgi Hulk-hopping through the white stuff.The "rescue team" consists of Peter DeLuise and some brawd with a terrible eastern bloc accent.When they zero in on the survivors' coordinates, they pitch a tent in the snow and catch some z's instead of radioing for more help, or trying to actually reach them, god forbid.Garcia, of the imaginative leg splint clan, returns to camp, only to get blasted in the eye with a flare gun by Raven, the self-centered dick who's been hoarding the chocolate bars for himself.The yeti converges on the kids, who throw a snowball at it before eating snowflakes and death at the three fingered latex gloves of the infernal beast,who skirts Sarah back to the cave for some spooning(!).Peter DeLuise gets beaten to death with his own severed leg, and there's a makeshift yard marker-turned-spear chained to a huge boulder used to pull the creature off a cliff to its death that'd have Wile E. Coyote green with envy.Except there's two of them, and the one that got buried in stock avalanche footage moments earlier, well yeah, he's finally dug himself out.The movie's over, but the headache remains.

How do you say "obviously fake" in Tibetan Sanskrit?
Ziller has thirty-four films, mostly made-for-television, under his belt,including such gems as Polar Storm, Ice Quake, Iron Golem, and Beyond Loch Ness. Here's hoping he someday figures out how to do it properly.Bad acting, piss poor effects and lazily crude cgi sequences, limp dialogue, inane story, it's all here promising you an embarrassing hour and a half of your life that you'll never get back, and if that sounds palatable somehow, then you'll understand the single wop rating I've bestowed upon it, as more of the same SyFy pulp they've been steadily pouring us for years now.It's not actual juice, nor is it healthy for you in any way, but once in a while, it's kinda fun going down.One wop.

When you get done beating him with his own disembodied leg, could you hit me with it a few times for watching this?

"The Untold"(2002)d/Jonas Quastel

Once again,the Boss of the Woods pokes his anthropoid peepers out from behind a massive redwood just long enough for another genre cameo,this time a Canadian indie feature,known south of the maple leaf,as "Sasquatch",and marking the first of a few sightings in the past decade, of Lance Henriksen in a 'foot flick.Andrea "Rescue Me" Roth is also on board here for a surprisingly fair slice of squatchploitation with several passable moments that just might leave an oversized footprint in the hairs on the back of your necks if you aren't careful.My main argument against the film achieving anything more than meager monster-driven mediocrity is a double-edged gladio;Adequate suspense is built throughout the movie with shadows in the trees and the obligatory heat based monster's eye view a la Predator.It's just that after all that buildup,the film suffers from terminal Snowbeast-itis(see:1977 Bo Svenson Yeti-terrorizes-ski-resort-and-ends-up-looking-like-missing-member-of-the-Banana-Splits telepic for details).Thyrza Richardson,the FX-slinger here,totally dropped the ball,opting for a baldheaded,oilslicked Captain Caveman look,instead of the more familiar hair-covered evolutionary rascal we've come to know and love in other efforts.Slightly attention-grabbing,but better served with the rest of Richardson's work on Stargate:Atlantis than carrying a murderous MoMo movie.Also raspberry-worthy here is the total lack of the red red kroovy throughout the picture.Everybody knows when you place several unlikeable characters in the middle of a vast b-movie forest setting,the payoff for the audience is seeing them snuffed in gross and inventive ways.You aren't gonna get any of that round these parts,stranger.The few deaths are sadly,off-camera and pretty bloodless.If those factors were both strengthened beforehand,this could have very easily gotten mo' love.The story,is said to be based upon "true events".Yeah,and an hour and a half of Gallagher smashing fruit and vegetables with a mallet is said to classify as comedy.

Did Andrea Roth have a bobbler double?If so,does said pair o' stunt tits have my phone number?
Self-made president of Bio Comp Industries,Harlan Knowles(Henriksen) has organized an expedition into the mountains,headed by Winston Burg(Phil Granger),a big game hunter/author,and guided by one of those annoying all-knowing part-native American types named Tyne(Russ Ferrier),to locate any survivors from an earlier company plane crash which his daughter,Tara(Erica Durance),was a part of.Knowles must have assembled his crack team with an emphasis on heavy douchebaggery;Burg is a flask-tipping snob,while Tyne's the obligatory outdoorsman who's probably never seen a cordless phone,let alone a gps unit.And they get worse from there.Knowles' technerd assistant is a thinly veiled cryptozoology buff who's constantly spouting folklore and striking out with the ladies when he isn't looking for a random Cadborosaurus in the waters of the mountain's lakes.The team's eye candy,Marla Lawson(Roth)is a ruthless gold-digging opportunist slut,offering Knowles a slice of hair pie as reward for letting her plunge her siphoning proboscis into his company's cash veins.Knowles,well,he looks around a lot,thinking about all the opportunities he's blown to salvage his relationship with his daughter,who could be very well toes up at this point.Something spies on the bickering city-slickers as they trudge through the forest,just beyond their line of sight,in the shadows.Burg fumbles the ball in finding the plane wreckage,which,by coinciding scratches in the towering redwoods,was dragged for miles by something from the point of impact.Burg wings a male grizzly bear,who turns up writhing in agony on the forest floor with a broken neck from a massive boulder wielded by...something.

Sasquatch or early Pogues gig closeup.You make the call.
After happening upon a cave full of primitive drawings along the way,and while Tyne discovers rancid-smelling hair samples on trees,and Burg is busy revealing himself to be a drunken story-embellisher with a nervous trigger finger and little nature savvy,Knowles stumbles upon the real reason he put the search party together,a black metal box that resembles an old top-loading vcr with a shoulder strap,the portable prototypical focus of a project called Huxley,that can classify any living human or animal's dna in seconds.So yeah,put that "World's Best Dad" coffee mug away for now.The techdork gets a video camera in the plane wreckage working,and Knowles is treated to Blair Witch-style narrative from his hysterical daughter after the crash,and the other survivors shooting wildly out of the twisted hull at whatever it is that dragged them from the site,having taken a blood sample from outside the plane that the Huxley machine,with its full database of all known living things,classifies as "unknown".After Burg is stripped of party leadership,he's relieved of living by a massive shadowy figure in the darkness.While the others search for Burg,Lawson makes off into the woods with the dna unit,and after Tyne discovers a sheltered burial mound that includes month-dead plane wreck passengers,including Knowles' daughter,and Winston's fresh corpse to boot.They stumble upon Lawson's twisted body in the foliage,with Knowles snatching up the undamaged Huxley box,then ordering the remaining survivors to descend back down the mountain without him,allowing him a mano a claw-o square off with the shadowy hulk that killed his daughter.Knowles loses.Awakening from his shit-kicked-outta-me,he discovers he is lying next to a primitive grave for the sasquatch that his plane hit and killed when it went down,and a living sasquatch observing him from a short distance away.Understanding why the beast had been so bloody umpy in the first place,he raises his rifle,but instead of plugging the legendary monster,he shoots the box instead.When he looks back to see the creature's response,it has disappeared into the mist.On the mainland,nobody believes the crazy technerd's wild Bigfoot stories,and he gets institutionalized for his troubles.True story according to who,Baron fuckin' Munchausen?

Using his magical crypto-vision,Bigfoot noticed the selfish campers were burning a fattie without him.
While Henriksen continues acting in movies and television,even supplying his trademark gravel-grinding voice to video games,Ferrier worked mostly on tv series,and hasn't done anything of note in a couple of years.The same is true for Granger,who can be spotted in Galactica spinoff,Caprica,and the V series remake.Roth,the curvy Canuck,most recognized as Denis Leary's troublesome wife on Rescue Me,also does other tv work.Director Quastel,who made his debut with tonight's entry, continues to toil away in lesser genre fare like Ripper 2:Letter From Within,and Scourge.Like I said earlier,it's no Legend of Boggy Creek(1972),but then again,it isn't as bad as Sasquatch Hunters(2005)either.As middle of the road monster mayhem(light on the mayhem)it earns two wops on the ratings scale.Worth a look,especially if you dig He of the Oversized Footprint and Smelly Ass forest clan,and the myriad of b-level movies made in His image.

"I'm not gonna chuck you through the forest,Henriksen.You were in Piranha Part 2,you've suffered enough."