Movies that provide us with an inside look at the lives of communities different from our own can show us just how much alike – and not alike – the constituencies of those cultures truly are from our own. It’s especially intriguing when such films cross species lines, examining societies of beings different from ourselves, an undertaking tackled in the latest project from the acting-writing-directing duo of David and Nathan Zellner. Known for such offbeat releases as “The Art of Self-Defense” (2019) and “Kumiko, The Treasure Hunter” (2014), this time out the filmmaking siblings present a documentary-style look at a year in the lives of a bigfoot family of four inhabiting the forests of Northern California. The camera follows them through a variety of everyday situations not unlike what we as humans go through, only in a totally different milieu. The film features an array of comedic and dramatic circumstances to which we can all undoubtedly relate, often on a very “earthy,” unrestrained level, involving activities in which we all engage but rarely talk about. Told in four acts, this release beautifully captures their experience of life in the woods, with exquisite visuals of Northwestern landscapes and diverse forest wildlife, along with curious, entirely natural expressions of individuals discovering the myriad elements of a world that they have come to believe is their own. But is it? As they come upon scenarios that are anomalous from what they have typically known, they must learn to adapt when evidence emerges that their world could be drastically changing – even vanishing – before their very eyes. In that sense, then, the film quietly delivers a strong environmental message (aptly timed for an Earth Day release) that we should heed in light of the unsettling experience of this picture’s unique protagonists. While the film’s sequences at times become somewhat repetitive and feature more than their share of undoubtedly base humor, this offering is nevertheless entertaining, clever and thought-provoking, enhanced by its stunning cinematography, emotive original score, and stellar makeup and prosthetics. Despite these assets, however, some have dismissively and capriciously compared this production to an extended Saturday Night Live sketch or a parody of the opening sequence of Stanley Kubrick’s “2001: A Space Odyssey” (1968). But those analogies unfairly sell this one short as a vehicle that will simultaneously make viewers both laugh and think. With an economical 1:28:00 runtime and a fine cast of actors portraying the quartet of uncannily prescient primates (Jesse Eisenberg, Riley Keough, Nathan Zellner, Christophe Zajac-Denek), “Sasquatch Sunset” makes an intriguing watch, provided that viewers give it a fair shake. Indeed, if we’re ever to reach a new level of understanding about those who are different from us and with whom we share this world, not to mention the impact we have on one another, we should make an effort to grasp what this offering is trying to tell us – while we still have the time to do so for both of us.

As a fan of the filmmaking brothers David and Nathan Zellner and their offbeat brand of humor and awkward storytelling style, I had much higher hopes for “Sasquatch Sunset” than I guess I should have. Disappointingly unfunny and too reliant on gross-out gags, this weird movie about the antics of a bigfoot family is a massive misfire on every level. This absurdist film is set up like a bad nature documentary, a strictly observational look at a year in the life of a sasquatch clan. There’s the alpha (Nathan Zellner), the female (Riley Keough), the male (Jesse Eisenberg), and the child (Christophe Zajac-Denek), and their existence is not all that interesting. They forage for food and explore the forest around them, with lots of sniffing, barking, farting, defecating, and scratching along the way. Even a fictional look at the day-to-day routine of a sasquatch brood quickly wears thin. Perhaps if the Zellners had gone with a more traditional mockumentary route, the movie wouldn’t feel so sluggish. There’s only so much the talented indie cast can do when their dialogue amounts to nothing more than a series of barks and grunts. Buried under layers of fur and makeup, the roles demand a lot of physicality, which would’ve worked far better with more slapstick gags. The script feels like it was written by 14 year old boys who wanted to include every single poop, pee, and sex joke they could dream up. It also isn’t a good sign that the majority of the time I was questioning whether or not something was supposed to be funny, as it was all so unclear. I do know one thing that was crystal, however: I never laughed. I found nothing to be humorous, just weird and gross (and for the Zellners, that’s saying something). The interesting thing about all of this is that while the movie isn’t compelling, I was still invested in the outcome. I wanted to know what happened to each of the creatures, even if their eventual fate is a bit of a letdown. The film teeters on the verge of being a total train wreck, yet I couldn’t seem to tear myself away. It’s not bad enough to walk out of, but it’s also not good enough nor enjoyable enough to recommend, which leaves “Sasquatch Sunset” in niche film purgatory. It begs the question, “who is the audience for this?“ By: Louisa Moore / SCREEN ZEALOTS