Rather than follow other creature features and maintain the mystery of its urban myth, this lo-fi Sundance comedy delights in getting up close and personal with its beasts, writes Billie Walker.
There have been many attempts to prove the existence of aliens, Bigfoot, Mothman and the Loch Ness Monster. Alongside the eyewitness testimonies and blurry photography, cinema has depicted humanity’s fascination with the unexplained. But while the alien has had many successful on-screen lives (Close Encounters of the Third Kind [1977], Alien [1979], War of the Worlds [2005]), the cryptid cinematic universe (The Blair Witch Project [1999], The Mothman Prophecies [2002], Slender Man [2018], Frogman [2024]) hasn’t reached the same level of blockbuster fame. Perhaps due to these creatures being a rather niche interest, perhaps due to these urban myths requiring limited exposure to keep their allure, the focus of the cinematic lens ultimately bursts this bubble.
In creating Sasquatch Sunset, directors Nathan and David Zellner weren’t hoping to retain the mystique of the sasquatch. In fact, they wished to do quite the opposite. Their dialogue-free comedy follows a year in the life of four sasquatch – played by prosthetics-covered Jesse Eisenberg, Riley Keough, Christophe Zajac-Denek and Nathan Zellner – a creature so famously lonesome that the only supposed documentation shows it wandering the forest alone. Within the wooded vistas of northern California, the four humanoid beasts spend their days eating, humping and defecating. Sasquatch Sunset commits to simplicity: through the grunts, hoots and actions of these beings, the urban legend is given a life as rudimentary as any animal.
With its unvarnished presentation of the sasquatch, the Zellners’ film avoids the mistakes of past creature features. The Mothman Prophecies is loosely based on the 1975 book of the same name by ufologist John A Keel, who investigated the alleged sightings of a giant winged creature in West Virginia. The first time we see it in the movie, John (Richard Gere) and his wife Mary (Debra Messing) are driving home when a red bat-like shape flies at the windshield, forcing Mary to crash the car. The gaudy first encounter more closely resembles the bat-signal from the DC universe than a supernatural creature capable of divine powers that are soon to be revealed.
Later, when John is deep into his investigation of Mothman, he decides to test the arthropodic giant’s prophetic skills during a phone call. He asks it to guess what’s in his hand, and, through the crackling reception, a strange voice responds ‘chapstick’. The film’s laughably heavy-handed methods to bring the creature to life on screen reveal its refusal to suspend disbelief for its creation. Keel’s respect for the unknown makes his book an uncanny investigative work that holds reverence for the moth-like entity in question, but the accompanying film shatters the aura the writer diligently documented.
The Mothman Prophecies (2002)
This isn’t to say a belief in the creature is necessary in order to create an affecting myth movie, though some respect for the cryptid you’re trying to bring to life certainly helps. The Blair Witch Project instils fear by refusing to show us the witch who is wreaking havoc on the amateur filmmakers – played by Rei Hance, Joshua Leonard and Michael C Williams – attempting to document her. But her presence is felt through the piles of rocks, the bloody formations of sticks and the sounds that ricochet through the dark forest. The backpackers do not fully fear the witch until she sheds blood, and yet the audience senses her lurking threat, which is even more powerful because of her visual absence.
In much the same way as the Blair witch’s victims are aware of her proximity, the furry family in Sasquatch Sunset feels the encroaching violence of human society. There are tell-tale signs that people are near in the Zellners’ film, from the red-X-marked tree and empty campsite to the road that goes on seemingly forever in both directions. The creatures are befuddled by these portents of civilisation, the smooth tarmacked road is unsettling to their thick-soled feet. We fear for the unassuming sasquatch, since we understand humans’ capability for destruction – something the beasts are ignorant of until their habitat has been destroyed. It makes their naive, inquisitive nature endearing and heartbreaking all at once. By keeping the creatures central to almost every frame, and the humans resolutely outside it, the Zellners invite us to question who the monsters really are.
The Blair Witch Project (1999)
Sasquatch Sunset may borrow from the horror films that feed off urban legend, but it chooses to strike out on its own. There are scenes that feel closer to the nature documentaries of David Attenborough than a monster movie. As one sasquatch attempts to fornicate with another, the female (Riley Keough) must defend herself, while the alpha (Nathan Zellner) is forced to leave the pack. Attenborough would narrate this scene to humanise the animals’ quarrel, but these actors in their convincing sasquatch suits – thanks to the detailed design work of Steve Newburn and Daniel Carrasco – do just that with the inflections in their apelike howls and their embodiments of the beast.
The sasquatch is just like any other animal to these filmmakers, which doesn’t detract from their fascination with it. The Zellners reassure the cryptid enthusiast with their knowledge of the sasquatch. Michael Gioulakis’ cinematography often replicates the blurry footage of Bigfoot, particularly when the creatures cross a forest vista. However, unlike the solitary shadows of previous (alleged) evidence, Gioulakis’ images are clear – there can be no denial of their existence. These beasts have each other, but that doesn’t stop them from seeking out more of their dying brethren. The Octopus Project’s score is routinely punctuated by the sasquatch banging on trees, calling out and waiting hopefully for a response. Whether you are one of the curious minds that has always been fascinated by the possibility of the sasquatch or not, the search for companionship is a universal yearning.
Sasquatch Sunset (2024)
For all its scatological humour (there is plentiful faeces and vomit), Sasquatch Sunset maintains a depth of feeling. The beating heart of the film is a deep appreciation for the natural world and fellow forest dwellers that share the beast's habitat. Half human, half ape, the sasquatch bridges the ever growing divide between us and nature. If there is a more profound question powering Sasquatch Sunset, beyond its weird opus to the slow life, I believe it might be an interrogation of our fascination with the unexplained. Does the unknown become less deserving of existence once it is known? Sasquatch Sunset urges its audience to share in its wonder for the natural world, regardless of its sense of mystery.
WATCH SASQUATCH SUNSET IN CINEMAS
