Sasquatch Sunset

Genre – I don’t know, RJ Picked it.
Movie Total Runtime – 1 Hour 28 Minutes plus ads, ads, ads, and more ads.
Spoilers – Yes

So whatever this movie is starts with temperate redwood rainforests and some small figures I suppose are non-human hominids crossing far from the camera. I have no idea what I’m in for. This is the second go-round for trying to get this crossover off the ground, I hope the video host doesn’t turn against us again. This one was RJ’s pick. I had chosen from the potential candidates the first time around, so it’s only fair.

After the title drop, we get a close up of our sasquatches munching on plants. They don’t exactly have much in the way of dinner conversation. Or after-dinner conversation. But, I’ve had evenings like that with my family, so I’m not one to judge. We enter into spring with a pair trying to increase the population count. For beings that live in the wild in temperate rainforests and presumably have a long gestation period, being large mammals, this is a poor choice of times to start. Ideally you want the young to be born closer to spring so that they have all summer to grow and build up strength to survive their first winter. Evidently, other pack members agree, as they don’t appear to approve of the behavior.

We get another “are you sure this is spring?” shot of a deer with full antlers. Some cervids do retain their antlers year round, but these fellows aren’t from that small set of sepcies. Given the thick winter coats on the deer, the title card proclaiming “spring” must have been delivered from an antipodian locale. The foliage they begin ripping down also looks more late year rather than springlike as they assemble some form of shelter.

Why am I arguing with a title card so much? Because I can’t tell our sasquatches apart all that well. Call me speciesist, but they all look alike to me. They beat up on trees and listen for a response that never comes. I’m suspecting, given the title, that this may be the last band of them. We get some more domestic scenes as one of them tries to count the stars. However, the sasquatch number system appears to run out between 5 and 10, as he keeps losing count.

The Hendersons dismantle the shelter they just made and go back to wandering, not bringing any of the resources with them. Instead, they forage along the way. I’m beginning to see why their numbers are running out. They live like migratory gorillas. They lose a fight with a turtle and an Ad interrupts me. Fortunately, I can mute the audio at least. I hate ads. They’re always annoying and never for anything I care about. I don’t need insurance, or a ambulance-chasing lawyer, or a patio. I won’t remark every ad break. If only they weren’t so intensively peppered through the runtime. I’m trying to figure out the ecology of these creatures without any available guidance.

We return to find our dyscalculic squatch trying to count the eggs in a bird nest he found. He does less well than with the stars, losing count at three. We see more social disfunction that makes me wonder if these squatches are carrying around genetic defects resultant from their small population and probable inbreeding. They behave less like advanced apes and more like mentally handicapped humans. That is – several maladapted to their circumstances. As questions of how many genetic abnormalities the band is carrying come to mind, we see evidence that the earlier activies have resulted in a pregnancy.

My assessment of mental handicap is furthered as they demonstrate a lack of understanding of edible versus inedible plants, not recognizing one species of berry until one of their number discovers it can be eaten, and another intentionally gorging on obviously rotten berries begetting sickness. A healthy population native to the region would have already know these things and passed it along well before the adulthood of the surviving members. An argument leads to schism, and driving of one of the members from the band. The exile eats an obviously suspicious mushroom and has a… negative reaction.

Tripping on shrooms and vomiting from their toxicity, the exile makes the brilliant decision to attempt to SMITH a Mountain Lion.

The rest of the troop does try to call the exile back, evidently haven gotten over the original schism. One of the remaining troop displays signs of mental illness by talking to their own hand, but the result actually leads them to where the Puma is feeding on the exile’s corpse. I guess the SMITHing didn’t go so well. Somehow the soil in this redwood forest is soft enough to dig a full size grave by hand as the band buries the exile. If they’d at least used sticks, I’d have believed it. The survivors conduct their funerary rites and move on. From the cognitive difficulties the band has shown I can only assume that squatch culture had previously been more highly developed and degenerated as the species dwindled.

The title card finally declares it to be Summer.

We’re halfway through and there’s been no obvious artifacts of human habitation encountered. However, after the turtle fight, they did mock using the turtled-up turtle like a phone. There’s no indicator that previous squatches had phones, and I think it more likely that the band was imitating the behavior they observed in humans. Unless proven otherwise, I am going to assume this is close to modern day. Our mentally handicapped inbreds go rock fishing, where they chuck rocks at the water until one of them miraculously holds up a fish. In another case of “the title cards are lying” they extract what looks to be roe from the fish. Given the pink interior when they do eat the meat, it appears to be some breed of salmon or trout. A spawning female would only be around from September to November depending on species.

Am I treating this as a nature documentary for comedic effect? Well, I can’t say I’m succeeding at the comedy. It’s just that I don’t want to issue the same complaints I had about One Million Years BC in the dialog department. Another confirmation that there is something wrong with these squatches comes from indicators that they don’t seem to understand what pregnancy is. Not an issue you’d get in a healthy population.

Halfway through we have confirmation that this is modern times and humans exist. We have a X spray painted on a tree in red, indicating intent to cut that one down. We don’t see the humans, but nothing else makes those kinds of marks. Our inbred band boggles at it in confusion. They soon find a road. Probably the one the loggers used. It causes even more confusion even though it’s unpaved, so the surface is not terribly dissimilar to that of ground they’ve already crossed, just more clear of vegetation. Something must spark in their improperly formed minds as they freak at the way it stretches in both directions. Repeatedly. Each way. Either that, or they’re extreme libertarians and the very idea of Roadz is an affront to them.

More signs of human activity comes with the discovery of a cut log that got away and floated down river. Dyscalculic tries to count the rings and keeps failing. The frustration this causes tells me he knows there are more numbers, but his brain is failing him. Dyscalculic rages at the rings, jumping on the log, slipping, and dislodging the log such that he gets pinned in the water. Pregnant squatch tries to roll the log off dyscalculic, but dislodging it further causes it to roll downstream and push him under. The squatches are unable to rectify the situation before he drowns.

The band is down to a duo, who wake the next day to find the current has freed the corpse of Dyscalculic, and he’s hosting a murder of crows. Retrieving the remains, they hold another funeral. Our Antipodian title card says it is now Fall. Watch, we’ll have new buds emerging from the snow when I hit play.

In a shock twist, the autumnal setting proceeds apace as the leaves are turning colors. I guess if you film it all at one time of the year, eventually the title card will be accurate. Our duo of decidedly unbright relatives finds a campsite set up by someone who does not know bears live in the pacific northwest. Their food coolers are all on the ground, and I wonder how they got all this in there, as there’s no sign of a vehicle having come along. Anyway, the two investigate the human stuff, finding items they don’t understand and a crapload of candies and other junk food. They manage to hit play on a boombox with “Tony’s Mix” tape in it. Can’t be sure Tony was the one who set up the camp. The random hearts tells me it might be the boyfriend of the person who set up camp. Anyway, the casette tape and portable boom box says “90s” to me.

The noise confuses the squatches who sit there, brained locked up at this development until the music makes pregnant female rage and start smashing the camp. Smallest male joins in. until each gets distracted again. All this excitement leads the unborn squatch to want to join in, and pregnant female goes into labor. Mountain lion looks on as the squatches try to prepare a spot. Newborn squatch lands on its head but begins vicalizing and moving anyway. I’m not sure they are using that part of their anatomy anyway. Mountain lion, of courst, is drawn to the scene. Mama squatch distracts it with the fakest looking placenta prop I’ve ever seen.

As the squatches flee, the title card declares it winter. There is actually snow, and my opening about why you don’t want to gestate over summer comes back as I wonder how they’re going to keep newborn squatch from freezing. Smallest male feeds snow to the hand he talks to before they stumble on to someone’s chicken coop. From the way mama squatch handles the baby. They abduct the chicken, carrying it off alive. Smallest male almost gets the chicken killed by a bear trap, but a snapped one containing old bones lets mama squatch figure out what it is and set it off without getting either the chicken or his hand friend caught in it.

We’ve got ten minutes left and three squatches left. Newborn squatch nearly croaks due to the cold, but they somehow shake it back alive. Normally, shaking a baby has the opposite effect. This reprieve may only be temporary as there are signs of a wildfire coming to provide our climactic encounter. The squatches try to signal other squatches, but have no more success in the matter than previous attempts. Apparently the budget couldn’t handle actually having the fire catch up, so Smallest Male and Mama Squatch carry Baby Squatch to a logging camp, or mine, or small town. Maybe a local history museum given the rows of antique hardware on display. They mistake a carved wooden sasquatch for a real one and try to communicate.

It takes them an awkwardly long time to figure it out. The wide shot shows they’ve reached the willow creek-china flat museum. I guess my “Local museum” guess was close enough. The ending credits roll with the squatches still awkwardly trying to communicate with anything that would answer.

I’m going to stick with “Mock Nature Documentary”, since there’s nothing else I can classify this as. And I’m not violating my “No research” policy now, I’ve finished the runtime. Credit to whoever created the costumes and props for this. They and the camera operator did a fantastic job. Except for the fake placenta prop. But the contrast did highlight the work done on everything else. As for the story… it has a story but no plot, being a series of things that happened to nonverbal mentally handicapped inbred squatches as they run out the clock on a functionally extinct species. Whether you find it more humorous or more tragic depends on you. For me, it was like watching a bug in a jar – detatched and analytical.

Though you guys should be able to see it back in Thursday’s post if you wanted to watch ads every ten minutes of runtime. How did I ever manage broadcast television?