The legend of the Fouke Monster in the middle of nowhere in Arkansas is at least a fascinating legend from how I see it through this interesting docudrama that really isn't a horror movie until the end, and that's based on re-enactments of things that allegedly happened. It's one of several alleged legends of unknown kinds of beasts, refer to in some circles as a Yeti, and for most of the film, just seen and heard in passing from a distance. The creature, whatever it is, begins to get more aggressive and potentially violent about halfway before the end of the film, resulting in a posse going out to try to find the creature that is scared kittens to death, taking off hundred pound Hogs and killed one man's best friend. Of course, when someone is attached physically, it's very dark so they'll really get to see it, but the audience does get to get an idea of what it looks like. And indeed, what is shown is scary.

This docudrama features a non-professional cast of residents from the area in which it was them, and they're acting is exactly what you expected to be, non-existent, basically just directed to say their line, probably with cue cards, and told how to stand or react. So you're not getting Shakespeare here or even schlocky is kind of acting in a professionally done z-grade horror movie. That makes it a bit more forgivable, and in a sense, a better film. The scene with three girls in a trailer are basically shaken by the creature whose outside is one of the most frightening, and when one man is attacked, it begins to gel as to how strong this being is. It's definitely worth a cult following and a one-shot viewing, with the narration quite convincing. Not bad for the kind of film it is, but that doesn't make me interested in the sequels.

Do-It-Yourself indie auteur Charles B. Pierce's engagingly modest pseudo-documentary effort was in many respects a prototypical 70's Sasquatch cinema offering: There's the small hillbilly hamlet setting, the colorfully drawn redneck characters, the use of the dense backwoods to evoke a sense of wide-open eeriness and isolation, the plain-spoken narration, and even the inclusion of a twangy, bittersweetly reflective country theme song. All these elements were subsequently reused in numerous 70's Bigfoot films which were made in "Boggy Creek" 's profitable wake. Pierce's feature takes place in the humble farming community of Fouke, Arkansas. The toothless and wizened geezer menfolk, firmly perched in their rocking chairs, exude an earthy charm as they relate in their dry-throated drawls a series of tales centering on the massive three-toed forest-dwelling hairy humanoid creature. The creature initially seems shy and docile, but driven made by agonizing loneliness (the picture scores bonus points for its sympathetic portrait of the monster's pitiable, lonesome plight),it eventually becomes aggressive and threatening: the pesky varmint knocks over trash cans, shakes rickety trailer homes back and forth, and, in the movie's best ever cheap fright scene, literally scares the you-know-what out of a guy by popping up at the poor dude's bathroom window (!).

The disarmingly homespun simplicity of Earl E. Smith's script gets right to the heart of the matter with a pleasingly unpretentious straightforwardness. (Smith also penned the proto-slasher item "The Town That Dreaded Sundown" for Pierce and wrote and directed the outstanding horror-Western favorite "The Shadow of Chikara.") Pierce's sharply observant cinematography deftly uses gradual pans and slowly sweeping tracking shots to capture the natural spookiness and closed-off aura of the thick marshlands that serve as the creature's habitat (the images of gnarled bottle trees, gritty unpaved dirt roads, doublewides, and the forest's teeming array of scurrying wildlife possess a certain lurid boondock authenticity). Vernon Stearman's folksy, amicable narration and the flavorful, harmonic score by prolific Southern-fried B-picture composer Jamie ("Redneck County," "Mausoleam") Mendoza-Nava further enhance the film's affably unaffected and absorbing downhome lyricism. Not surprisingly, "Boggy Creek" was a substantial drive-in success and beget two sequels of variable quality.

A documentary-style drama which questions the existence of a monster in an Arkansas swamp. It is really more of a glimpse at lower-class swamp culture from the seventies, though, than a monster flick.

As the plot summary says, this is really more a look at Arkansas than it is a look at Bigfoot. There are some "horror" elements, but mostly we are getting to know the people in and around the swamp. This could have been a Les Blank film. How much the people are acting or being themselves is unclear, but it seems to be much more natural than scripted.

The film is more than a little rough. This is probably partially due to its falling into the public domain (somehow). But even so, it appears to be more or less rough by design, with lower quality cameras and lighting. Could a proper DVD release fix this up? No way. But maybe it should not be fixed.