CREATURE FROM BLACK LAKE: A Breezy '70s Hang Sesh With Bigfoot
The mid-'70s were a wonderland of otherworldly obsessions in pop culture. UFO's, ghosts, the Bermuda Triangle, past lives, devil cults, you name it. They were everywhere from the National Enquirer to primetime t.v. shows. Each day was like an episode of In Search Of. Bigfoot was a key topic that emerged in this whirlwind of strange obsessions, leading to a string of movies dealing with the topic: Bigfoot, The Legend Of Boggy Creek and Sasquatch are just three of the films that lit up movie screens alongside a string of pseudo-documentaries.
Creature From Black Lake is a fun entry in this canon, a hard-working little regional indie flick that bridges the gap between traditional monster movie treatments of Bigfoot and the pseudo-documentaries. The protagonists are college students Rives (John David Carson) and Pahoo (Dennis Fimple), an enterprising pair looking to further the field of cryptozoology by tracking down evidence of Bigfoot. They travel deep into the south, finding tantalizing leads and frustrating dead-ends in equal measure.
The locals range from skeptical to secretive, with Sheriff Carter (Bill Thurman) actively discouraging them from creating a hubbub with their investigation. However, they stick with their pursuit and uncover compelling tales of close encounters from Grandpaw Bridges (Dub Taylor) and the reclusive Joe Canton (Jack Elam). As they go deeper into the woods, they're due for their own close encounter with a cryptid, one that may not turn out the way they expect.
The resulting film shapes up as a solid example of the mid-'70s paranormal horror pic. Like most of the Bigfoot films from this era, it stayed safely in the confines of a PG rating to deliver chills that a broad audience could enjoy. As a result, it's more mellow than modern viewers might expect from a monster flick but that's also part of its charm: the expected chills are doled out in a gradual manner, offset by a lot of local color, some charmingly goofball comedy and a surprising investment in the 'road movie' interaction of its Mutt and Jeff protagonists.
There is also solid regional indie filmmaking experience supporting this film. The direction was handled by Joy N. Houck, Jr., who made a string of horror and thriller flicks at the turn of the '70s produced by his film distributor father (who also released The Legend Of Boggy Creek). The writing and producing were handled by Jim McCullough Jr. and Sr., respectively, both at the beginning of their career as a southern filmmaking team that would tackle a variety of genres, including horror, into the early '90s. Horror buffs will be pleased to note that future superstar cinematographer Dean Cundey handled the atmospheric photography here - and the spooky soundtrack was composed by low budget horror vet Jaime Mendoza-Nava, who scored everything from The Legend Of Boggy Creek to Mausoleum.
Creature From Black Lake displays a kind of '50s-style innocence in how it handles its subject matter. Both script and direction take a slow-burn approach that eases us the audience into the horror elements, with the script cleverly couching much of the early monster action in flashbacks related by survivors - thus evoking Bigfoot pseudo-docs - and saves the major monster setpiece material for its third act. Along the way, it takes time to develop the personalities and relationship of the two heroes, which adds a human dimension to the expected confrontation that forms the film's climax.
Similarly, Houck Jr.'s direction concentrates on building atmosphere and a convincing Southern vibe: the real rural locations help, as does Cundey's excellent 'scope photography. It's worth noting that Houck Jr. tends to let events unfold within the 'scope frame so he leans on Cundey's skill for composition and judiciously timed camera movements - and Cundey never lets him down. When the real Bigfoot action kicks in the final couple of reels, it plays out with a messy, genuine sense of trauma more that is effective than the usual monster flick staging.
Finally, Creature From Black Lake benefits from smart casting that carries a lot of the weight. Both Carson and Fimple were experienced pros in film and television by this time so they have no problem digging into their roles: Carson evokes a convincing, laid-back "cool guy" charm while Fimple handles a lot of the physical humor and conveys awkwardness in a funny but likeable manner.
Elsewhere, Thurman makes a solid small-town sheriff who is a little more dimensional than usual for this kind of film and McCullough Jr. does solid work as a country-boy local (he also contributes a few tuneful C&W songs to the film). That said, it's Taylor and Elam who steal their scenes here, with the former bringing a loquacious country boy charm to the proceedings and the latter doing the "hard-drinking old coot" archetype as skilfully as any good actor could.
In short, Creature From Black Lake is an engaging little throwback to the Me Decade's paranormal mania. It also does a fine job of capturing the low-key charms of Southern indie genre flicks from this era, making it a solid choice for the next time you want to watch something that will revive that mid-'70s 'night at the drive-in' feel.
Blu-Ray Notes: this is a title that has historically suffered from subpar presentations over the years that were either too dark, cropped in an inappropriate manner or both. Luckily for fans, Synapse Films has picked it up and given it its first-ever quality transfer: it's presented in its proper 'scope aspect ratio and is rich enough in color and texture to capture all the natural exterior photography (the nocturnal finale can finally be seen properly on home video). A lossless presentation of the film's mono mix accompanies this transfer and it sounds crisp and free of distortion.
Synapse has also assembled a potent little handful of extras for fans. First up is a commentary track featuring Chris Poggiali and Michael Gingold. The style of delivery has a relaxed, conversational vibe but it is dense with information as this duo covers the history of the McCulloughs' and Houcks' filmmaking careers, the many Bigfoot and Yeti movies made during the '70s and other credits of an array of cast and crew members. Well worth the listen for those interested in regional genre filmmaking from the south and the history of Bigfoot films.
Also included is an interview featurette (19:05) with Cundey. He covers a lot of topics in his own soft-spoken, thoughtful manner: getting his start in the busy low-budget market for drive-in fare, the experience of being a big city guy coming to work in a small town and the pleasure of working with eager, welcoming locals. A really interesting discovery here is that Cundey designed the makeup for the title creature, a process that he discusses in detail here.
A one-minute theatrical trailer and a 30-second radio spot rounds things out: both play up the paranormal theme of the production and the trailer cleverly capitalizes on much of the key monster action. All in all, this is an excellent disc for creature feature aficionados, one that finally gives this film a worthwhile home video treatment.