Sasquatch Sunset
It feels pretty silly to sit here and try to write a cogent analysis of a movie about four actors that roam around the woods dressed up as sasquatches. There are no words spoken during the 90-minute runtime; the sasquatches grunt, jump around while screaming, have sex, defecate. It's all meant to be ridiculous (and it is). But outside the one-note, gross-out humor, the movie is executed with such an unreasonably high level of care and detail, and the sasquatches given such distinct and oddly endearing personalities, that I couldn't help but start to care about the stupid beasts by the end. That alone is quite an accomplishment for a movie that is way better than it has any right to be, and is surely destined for cult status.
That being said, you'll need to be on the movie's wavelength right away, or you might not make it past five minutes. While the overall grossness of the movie is being a little bit oversold (there's only really a few such scenes), much of it occurs in the movie's first half, serving as a kind of test to see if you're on board or not. There are no words spoken throughout, no narration, or even any human beings in the movie at all. And really, those things aren't missed. The "story" is broken into four sections, one for each season of the year, and the sasquatches simply romp around the woods, fascinated by every new thing they encounter.
Dressed in hairy, full-body suits and molded facial prostheses, the four actors look impressively sasquatchian. The costumes crucially allow for the facial acting of each actor to shine through, which goes a long way towards giving each character its own personality. The alpha of the pack (Nathan Zellner, who co-directed with his brother, David Zellner) is grumpy, aggressive and volatile, constantly trying to court the group's increasingly exasperated female (Riley Keough). Jesse Eisenberg plays the more thoughtful, curious, and gentle beast, determined to learn how to count while looking at the rings of a tree or the stars in the sky. Christophe Zajac-Denek completes the group (possibly a child of the others?), creating a little family unit that goes everywhere together.
The movie is spectacularly shot by veteran cinematographer Mike Gioulakis (It Follows, multiple M. Night Shyamalan movies) in the style of a nature documentary, giving a beautifully mature look to the absurd proceedings, and capturing all the awe-inspiring beauty of the northern California forest. There's also an impressive array of real animals on display, as various hedgehogs, porcupines, skunks, deer, and even a mountain lion interact with the actors in various ways. The appropriately psychedelic music is an original soundtrack provided by The Octopus Project, including a beautifully catchy closing credits song with vocals by Riley Keough. So much effort and care is put into the creation of what easily could've been just a profoundly stupid movie, and it's hard not to admire the dedication of the cast and crew. The four actors even worked with a movement and mime coach to develop consistent and uniform walks and animalistic expressions.
The second half of the movie shifts into a more melancholic and even tense tone, as the sasquatches have to work harder to stay alive amidst the changing weather and steady encroachment of the human race into the forest. In one of the movie's best gags, they encounter a simple paved road, which completely gobsmacks and terrifies the group. Later, they rummage through an unattended campsite, becoming transfixed by a boombox and slightly unnerved by a mirror. These events are funny on a basic level, but also tinged with notes of sadness and fear that remind us these creatures are of nature, and humans and their stuff don't belong there. It's a message that the movie doesn't belabor, but it's still a more serious note than you might be expecting.
Not everyone is going to be able to seriously accept this tribe of sasquatches (and who could blame them), but there are decent rewards to find here if you're able to embrace the weirdness of the Zellners' absurd vision. There is real emotion behind Keough's giant, expressive blue eyes, even through all the makeup and prosthetics; and if you find yourself getting attached to her and her little family, you might be surprised at how touched and affected you are by the fear and sadness in her expressions, even as you simultaneously laugh at yourself for managing to get emotionally attached to these pissing, farting beasts in the first place.