Schlocktoberfest XIV – Day 15: The Legend Of Boggy Creek

The Legend Of Boggy Creek (1972)

Trailer:

*Spoilers Throughout*

What’s This About: Part one of a Bigfoot series that didn’t really need to progress past this entry.

Here are some of my observations as I watched the film:

Black screen and croaking frogs, strap in for excitement!
As if trying to bullshit everyone by saying this is a true story wasn’t enough, Pierce has the audacity to add: “Some of the people in this motion picture portray themselves — in many cases on actual locations.” I’m all for filming on location whenever possible, but ya know, fuck using actors.
We get it, this movie takes place in a swamp – move on.
The beaver was right to swim away. I don’t think he wants to be seen in this movie, and regrets signing the release.
That was three solid minutes of swamp ambience. I feel relaxed, howsabout you?
Only in the seventies can a shot of a young kid running through a field to wah-wah pedal music start your monster movie.
How great would it have been if that wire fence sheared off the kid’s leg and he was left to bleed out for the Fouke Monster?
If this scene is a teaser of the acting prowess of the local yokels in this movie, we’re fucked.
Guess we’re gonna watch this kid run all the way the fuck home too.
Some quick VO and we’re back in the fucking swamp again for the opening credits.
Remember, this is the Alabaman Boy Scout’s favorite movie.
Seems that ‘ole Vern Stierman is gonna lend us his velvet voice to help us get through the proceedings.
Fuck Arkansas. Oh, Fouke, Arkansas. I apologiiiize-a.
I’ve been to Arkansas, it’s not this exciting.
This feels like a movie you see in class on a Monday morning when the teacher is hungover.
This movie came out the year I was born, and I bet Fouke looks exactly the same. I however, do not.
Arkansans say “Kahfay” and not “kah-fay” when talking about the town’s two cafes. They ooze class.
This fucker needs to die solely because of his choice in hats.
His name is Smokey Crabtree? Tape your assholes shut boys, I hear banjo music.
Travis goes out and poaches for hours before school starts Mr. Narrator, let’s not blow too much smoke here.
The Fouke Monster threw that dog back into its house. That was kinda metal.
OK, so the narrator is supposed to be the kid from the beginning. Is he telling this story as an adult or is this gonna re-define Meta.
I bet old men shooting their shotguns blindly into the woods every night is not an uncommon occurrence here.
These rednecks describing the monster make up for the entire lack of a screenplay. These inbreds are hilarious.
I wept for John Oates’ (not the one you’re thinking of) sideburns. Not in mourning but in desire.
C’mon fellas, we’ve all had a night where we leap a fence with a two-hundred pound pig under each arm. Oh, I forgot you all fuck nothing but supermodels.
I’ve heard of cow tipping, but cow scaring? No one sits around and just drinks in this town?
I wouldn’t really give much of a how-do-ya-do about the legend of the Fouke Monster. But I sure as tarnation would love to hear more of the legend of indoor fucking plumbing.
Why wear camouflage with blue jeans? You’re only gonna be half invisible.
I’ve never wanted or had the craving for Skoal as much as I do right now.
I’m sure that dipstick of a hunter did not just throw his match to the ground. Where the Christ is Smokey when you need him?
I don’t care what you say about Mary Beth Sersi, anyone who lives in that house in that swamp is anything but a student.
This narrator sounds like he can hardly wait for Bigfoot to kill these two girls. I think I’m beginning to like him.
The sound design is like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre on this here girl’s farm.
I was actually worried this house didn’t have electricity.
I hope you’re enjoying your book Mary Beth!
She don’t give a fuck about the draft hittin’ her niece or nephew, she done learned how to read and she’s goin’ to enjoy it.
Mary Beth obviously has the power to turn a night shot into a day shot so we can see the Bigfoot better.
OK. I’ve seen a ton of dead cats in all these movies I watch, but I have never seen one dead of fright. It looks like a Python sketch.
Is this the Gorilla Zkittlz or is there a pattern to these blue weeds?
Whittlin’. Never see that anymore.
I’ve never seen a kid that happy to run out into the woods to kill something.
That’s not true.
This asshole kid shoots Bigfoot twice, falls down while running away like a chick in a Friday The 13th movie twice, drops his gun and bolts. If this were a Don Dohler movie we’d be seeing this kid’s guts all over the forest by now.
It surely sounds like Fouke Monster took a few hits, Christ, those lungs.
Narration over the actor’s dialogue isn’t working here Chuck. It only works in Stephen King movies for some reason.
These hunter douche bags are almost identically dressed as the jag-offs who caught the tiger shark in Jaws.
“When we get them silly hunters down in that redneck swamp, it’ll be some fun. They’ll wish their fathers had never fucked their sisters when they start takin’ their bottoms out and slamming into them trees, boy!”
I honestly can’t believe this movie has an hour to go. It could end right now and work.
This is Maaarrrlboro Country.
Gotta hand it again to the sound editor – not one of those fucking dogs on screen are barking, yet it sounds like the last fifteen minutes of a Hammer horror movie.
What was the point of the cowboy falling off of the scared horse?
The hunting dogs basically told these rednecks, “Fuck you. We’re going home, because this thing is bigger than us.” And they all left.
Bigfoot speaks rabbit. How cute.
I hope the asshole hunter with the asshole lantern on his hat died never knowing true love.
The creature disappears for eight years now? He recharges like Michael Myers? Good for him.
It’s not easy insulting a movie with a narrator.
We’re in an old seventies music video for Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom. Just be cool and don’t stick your hands out in front of you.
The guy that’s singing this monster theme sounds exactly like the creep in the grey overalls from that scary as fuck child molestation PSA with Fonzie.
This is turning into a nature documentary.
“Winter changed into spring. Spring changed into summer. Summer changed back into winter, and winter gave spring and summer a miss and went straight on into autumn.”
I’m actually enjoying this movie somehow.
This seems rather an odd time for “Nobody Sees The Flowers But Me.”
If this Christian Bale-looking kid gets killed here, I might actually be bummed.
What is the point of Travis’ grey, existential crisis, massive gothic castle in black & white, depressing as fuck breakfast in the woods?
“He’s been living alone in the bottoms for the past twenty years.” I’ll just leave that there for you kinky devils.
Either that’s redneck recycling or the trees grow jug bottle fruit.
This now feels like the second of a Disney double-bill. The one you really didn’t come to see and fall asleep fifteen minutes in. I hate those annoying little Irish cunts that live in the trees anyhow.
“Travis always enjoys these visits with Herb.” Uh-huh.
“Herb limps because he once accidentally shot part of his foot away in a boating accident.” This is the time for a fucking flashback, we deserve to see that.
For fucks sake we don’t need to switch narrators. We went from the devil’s silky smooth version of Peter Thomas to Tom Waits gargling an entire gravel driveway while drinking ranch dressing.
Christ on a stick VO casting agents, go Cullen or Welker or go home.
This shot is right out of the Incredible Melting Man. No, no strike that – reverse it. Thank you.
Is it Fouke or Fog? Dance with the fucking accent that brought you will ya?
Nothing cures a tummy ache like a trip to the bean field. Fucking hayseeds.
“He ain’t no animal from this part-a the country.” Remember kids. this has always been a red state.
I’ll build a big beautiful Boggy Creek wall. It’s gonna be beautiful, it’s gonna be big, it’s gonna be boggy, and the Abominable Snowmen are gonna pay for it.
Mom says be quiet or I will beat you with a tree branch. I don’t care what any of ya’s say – we got shit done in the old days and I wear my seventies medals with pride.
I grew up knowing far too many families that always had burnt out metal drums in their backyards. Barbecue, bodies, or bull shit – fire it up! We didn’t care.
Can someone finally be slain in this movie?
“That’s Charlie Wallraven coming down the road.” Will Charlie and his sexy as fuck surname please run me the fuck over – this movie is grinding to a crawl.
Every fucking Bigfoot movie has the same POV through a windshield of him crossing the road. This shot was almost exactly re-done in Friday The 13th Part 2.
Nancy invited two friends over? It’s the first Elm Street movie now?
Only in Arkansas is the state U’s offensive and defensive lines considered girl talk.
Nothing cuts the tension like a Coke.
Any of my fellow Kolchak fans out there think the Fouke Monster looks exactly like Peremalfait from “The Spanish Moss Murders” episode? I’ll wait…
Our kitchen in the seventies wasn’t avocado green, it was harvest gold thank you very much.
Three fucking southern girls can’t load one fucking rifle? Is this one of those alternate history novels?
So far the Fouke Monster is really only guilty of trespassing and destruction of private property.
Holy shit. Did we just watch a Bigfoot kill a fucking dog?
Howard Wallraven’s mobile home. That was an Aven Kal, I set my watch and warrant on it.
What a desolate place this is.
They process grief over a dead pet differently down here.
So who was this fucking kid and why did he grow up to talk through this movie.
It’s redneck Amityville Horror. Save me Satan.
I’m tellin’ y’all, some eighties slasher tropes in terms of lighting and blocking are very present here in the early seventies.
I can remember being in someone’s living room that was painted just like this woman’s dress.
Those crazy seventies indeed.
Bigfoot POV Very ominous.
Bigfoot tries doorknobs first? What a creep.
I don’t think the phrase, “Let’s take the kids and go to the Landlord’s” has ever been said or has ever worked as a plot device ever again.
“…and a cousin, twelve year old Corky Hill arrived for the weekend.” So now this is turning into porn for priests.
I don’t know why, but some of these shots with the soundtrack score are very emotive. No bullshit.
This kid’s yellow socks should = instant violent Bigfoot murder death.
What the fuck am I staring at?
Oh. A Bigfoot print in the creek mud. Never mind.
Kid, this dude you’re fishing with ain’t all right, if ya know what I’m sayin’.
The sleepovers in this movie got really creepy way too fast.
Why is Bigfoot so enamored with strung out Alison Brie and her family? Why did I make another Alison Brie joke?
This family’s story could have been completely cut out and it would have worked.
Now they’re goin’ to the Landlord’s to get guns. Child shelter and an armory at the same time. The south will indeed rise again.
What an anti-climax. All shootin’ no nuthin’. The movie can end now thankya.
Are panthers living under your porch a normality up in this holler?
Oh boy, a redneck pissing scene. I can’t believe it’s in a toilet.
I find this family repulsive, and I expect their violent end post haste.
Yeah, let’s throw a thunderstorm into this shit stew of an ending.
Bigfoot beat the shit outta Bobby so bad, he walked through the front door. Divine.
Another appearance of Wallraven. That you Marten?
Now there’s an actor for the narrator. Too little too late.
Like Zartan, we end as we began – in the swamp.