Ever since Mr. Mercer and myself have endeavored to create our own monster movie based on the legendary bigfoot (you can read more about our efforts here), I've kept an eye out for any and all things related to the ever elusive Sasquatch. Enter the release of 2012′s Bigfoot, a made for TV movie that documents the reign of terror imposed by a creature more relative in size and stature to King Kong than the reportedly gentle giant that roams the forests of North America.
There are a number of ways one could approach a film like this, but I would never have guessed that the story would center around a rock concert in the shadow of Mount Rushmore. Two aging foes—who apparently shared glory days as members of jam bands during the 1980′s—lock horns in a dispute that boils down to conservationism versus capitalism. I'll save you the grief of a tedious narrative recap by saying simply that the catalyst that ultimately sets up the confrontation with the creature of cryptozoological lore is idiotic; it's a hammy idea that may have worked had the actors been more willing to "cheese up" the proceedings, but a misplaced sense of seriousness sinks any hopes of intentional laughter. Instead, we get uneven sequences that find our hero and villain spouting off cliché lines (and plot points) about protecting the environment and generating revenue for small town America (respectively).
Are you bored yet? If so, I apologize, but this serves to highlight the fatal flaw of Bigfoot: that there isn't enough of well bigfoot. When the monster shows up good fun is had by all, but too much of the movie is bogged down in a dispute between two unlikable characters. Last time I checked, people tune into the SyFy Channel movie of the week because they want over-the-top gore and an overabundance of horrendous special effects. Here, neither is given the screen time it deserves, and the result is a mind-numbing movie with an absolutely infuriating conclusion that's every bit as hollow as Alice Cooper's two minute cameo.
Yeah. You read that right. Actually, said appearance might just be the highlight of Bigfoot. As the aging rock star touts before being stepped on by the massive primate, "I'm the scariest thing you'll ever see!"
There are a number of ways one could approach a film like this, but I would never have guessed that the story would center around a rock concert in the shadow of Mount Rushmore. Two aging foes—who apparently shared glory days as members of jam bands during the 1980′s—lock horns in a dispute that boils down to conservationism versus capitalism. I'll save you the grief of a tedious narrative recap by saying simply that the catalyst that ultimately sets up the confrontation with the creature of cryptozoological lore is idiotic; it's a hammy idea that may have worked had the actors been more willing to "cheese up" the proceedings, but a misplaced sense of seriousness sinks any hopes of intentional laughter. Instead, we get uneven sequences that find our hero and villain spouting off cliché lines (and plot points) about protecting the environment and generating revenue for small town America (respectively).
Are you bored yet? If so, I apologize, but this serves to highlight the fatal flaw of Bigfoot: that there isn't enough of well bigfoot. When the monster shows up good fun is had by all, but too much of the movie is bogged down in a dispute between two unlikable characters. Last time I checked, people tune into the SyFy Channel movie of the week because they want over-the-top gore and an overabundance of horrendous special effects. Here, neither is given the screen time it deserves, and the result is a mind-numbing movie with an absolutely infuriating conclusion that's every bit as hollow as Alice Cooper's two minute cameo.
Yeah. You read that right. Actually, said appearance might just be the highlight of Bigfoot. As the aging rock star touts before being stepped on by the massive primate, "I'm the scariest thing you'll ever see!"