Containing what can only be described as fatal horniness and one of the more aggressive defecation scenes in recent film history, Sasquatch Sunset doesn’t play it safe. The dialogue-free surrealist shenanigans answer the question “What if the opening scene in 2001 had less monolith and more upsetting fornication?” It is oddly fascinating and surprisingly watchable for a movie that has no discernable point.
To be fair, many critics who have enjoyed the film have spoken about “profound themes” and disquieting, emotional reactions. Cool! Ambiguous, abstract art is always a good thing, but that praise feels based on projection more than what’s present in the picture. That is to say, the Zellner brothers (writer/director David and writer Nathan) have certainly made something that can allow people to have those reactions. Whether they have made something that actively provokes a meaningful response or that is packed with meaning is another matter entirely. And that matter is fecal.
The Internet hasn’t settled on what a collective of sasquatches – sasquatchi? – is termed, so let’s use a bunch of options. A yowling of yetis is stumbling through the California countryside, in what is apparently the 1990s. That fact is not made explicit in the film, because this passel of sasquatches doesn’t keep a calendar. There’s a big alpha dude (Nathan Zellner), a female (Riley Keough), another male (Jesse Eisenberg), and a child (Christophe Zajac-Denek). They are looking for fellow bigfoots – bigfeets? bigsfoot? bigsfeets? – by hitting big trees with sticks. It’s like if E.T. tried to phone home with a xylophone.
The alpha dude eats something he shouldn’t and dies trying to hump something he shouldn’t. The now smaller passel of sasquatches attempts to sadly survive, finding incredibly stupid danger and a paved road upon which to release their furious excrement. The human world looms closer and closer, suggesting an interaction or revelation that shall not come to pass. The final moments are an understated lament that feels like it should mean more than it actually does.
Sasquatch Sunset is beautiful. Other than the poop. Insofar as it stands as a reminder of the beauty inherent in the natural world and how far humanity has strayed from its nourishing simplicity, the movie works. But even pressing that simplistic statement gets squishy. The Zellner’s may well have intended a celebration of nature, but the body horror elements sure do make a case for modern medicine and other technological achievements. There is absolutely a perpetual sadness nestled among the silliness, but the melancholy is too nebulous to offer real reflection.
Look, the fact that there exists a full-length feature film about a group of bigfeet (a body of bigfeet? a conundrum of sasquatch?) without any narrative structure or spoken words is pretty great. The fact that it’s not impossible to consume is even cooler. But it is more a semi-pleasing curiosity than a truly great movie or enjoyable experience. Take pleasure in this though: Elvis and Priscilla’s granddaughter grew up to play an angry poopin’ yeti. That’s a fact that nobody can ever change.
Grade = C+
Other Critical Voices to Consider
Sarah Vincent says “The Zellner Brothers deserve kudos for experimenting like their onscreen subjects, but it probably says more about the filmmakers’ sensibilities than an imaginary species. If it gets people to stop the destruction of natural resources, then give them an award, but it is important not to forget that it is a European American story, not one from the indigenous perspective who also share the same mythology.”
Michelle Kisner at The Movie Sleuth says “Visually, Sasquatch Sunset is beautifully shot and takes full advantage of the gorgeous scenery. It isn’t afraid to utilize epic wide shots, but it is equally comfortable in close-ups, making the viewer feel like they have an intimate voyeuristic connection with the sasquatches. The makeup and costumes are outstanding, allowing the actors to disappear into their roles and become the sasquatch.”
Morris Yang at In Review Online says “A tragicomedy about the ‘Return to Monke’ conceit would, using the sasquatch DNA, explore the difficult distinction between the natural and the artificial, its conclusions likely poignant and ironic. With Sasquatch Sunset, the titular dusk doesn’t really settle, and its morose final shot, weighty in its own right, feels a bit like an afterthought.”