For about a hundred years (or maybe it’s a couple of decades, I dunno),
I’ve owned one of the multitudes of public domain DVD copies of
The Legend of Boggy Creek, which is just this
side of unwatchable—grainy, jumpy, dark, most likely taken from a VHS copy of a fading 16mm print. Mind you, I have loved
The Legend of Boggy Creek, more or less
irrationally, since the day I caught it at the
Rives Theater in
Martinsville, VA, in 1972, when I was twelve or thirteen. To me,
The Legend of Boggy Creek is the ultimate cryptid film. It’s creepy, campy, shot as a docudrama,
and features quite a few of the residents (who play themselves—or, in some
cases, their own relatives) of the tiny town of
Fouke,
Arkansas, where the real-life events of the film ostensibly occurred.
Having viewed only the abysmal DVD over all these years, it was a joy to
discover that, in 2019,
Pamela Pierce Barcelou, daughter of
Charles B. Pierce, the film’s producer/director, took on the task of
restoring the
The Legend of Boggy Creek to its rightful quality and aspect ratio, which has given the film a whole new life for those of us who love it (however irrationally).
Shot for a relatively paltry $100,000, the movie grossed $20 million in 1972
alone. With The Legend of Boggy Creek,
Charles B. Pierce made quite the name for himself. In the 1970s and 80s,
he enjoyed a successful career as a director, screenwriter, producer, set
decorator, cinematographer, and actor (he reportedly wrote the line "Go ahead, make my day!" for Clint Eastwood as Dirty Harry in 1983’s
Sudden Impact). His 1976 film, The Town That Dreaded Sundown, made in a
similar style to Boggy Creek, also
achieved fair critical and commercial success. In 1985, Pierce returned to his
roots with Boggy Creek II: The Legend Continues, though this movie, in which he starred (to less than stellar notices),
failed by a long shot to match the success of its progenitor.
|
Chuck Pierce as young Jim
|
The Legend of Boggy Creek opens with a
young, blond-haired lad named Jim (
Chuck Pierce, the director’s son),
frantically hauling ass through fields and woodlands until he reaches downtown
Fouke, where a gaggle of elderly gentlemen are swapping exciting stories about
their day-to-day existences in their rootin’-tootin’ town. Jim blurts out that
some kind of huge-hairy-manlike-yet-not-quite-a-man thing has been lurking
around his family’s place. The gentlemen chuckle good-naturedly at his panic and
send him back home, assuring him that there’s nothing to be afraid of.
Of course, it isn’t long before other folks in the community begin seeing our
hairy, bog-dwelling friend. Apparently, living in the bog for extended
periods can be boring, and the creature has decided he wants to experience
civilization for himself. For him, this does not end altogether
well. Before long, half the town has succumbed to panic, and our large, hairy
friend ends up receiving a few reasonably well-placed bullets as a
result. For a time, he disappears, presumably having decided that
being bored in the bog is better than fucked over in Fouke.
|
|
Dennis Lamb as farmer O. H. Kennedy, wondering what the HELL is
lurking out there in the Sulphur River bottoms.
|
|
If you are a cryptid, always remember to stand BEHIND the dude with
the gun.
|
The story as it progresses is narrated by Jim, our young blond friend from the
beginning of the film, as an adult. Actor Vern Stierman, who provides
the running commentary, does an admirable job of injecting gravitas when
gravitas is needed and adopting a light, conversational tone when characters
aren’t in the throes of panic. And in true, early 1970s spirit, a couple of
ballads interrupt the tense proceedings, the most memorable perhaps being the
ballad of young Travis Crabtree, one of many Crabtrees who make
appearances in this film. Travis plays himself (and, behind the scenes, was
the film's key grip), and earning the right to his own ballad (titled “Nobody
Sees the Flowers Bloom But Me”) is probably the most noteworthy thing he does
in the film.
Hey, Travis Crabtree,
Wait a minute for me.
Let’s go back in the
bottoms,
Back where the fish are bitin’,
Where all the world’s
invitin’,
And nobody sees the flowers bloom but me.
Now, to be fair, Travis, on one of his canoe outings, takes us deep into the
bottoms, where he introduces us to old-timer Herb Jones (played by Herb
Jones), who has lived alone out yonder for twenty years. Herb doesn’t believe
for one minute that any creature exists out there. In fact, Herb’s sole
purpose for being in the film is apparently to offer a less-credulous view of
the goings-on around Fouke.
|
Hey, Travis Crabtree... wait a minute for me!
|
|
|
Herb Jones: “I ain’t never seen nor heard no monster!”
|
After some years, our lonely, hairy friend has again grown bored of the rural
life and decides to take another shot at socializing. If it went bad before,
this time, it goes
really bad. Our friend the Fouke Monster has decided
to pay a visit to a couple of young couples who have moved into a place along
Boggy Creek. The couples—
Don &
Sue Ford (
John Wallis,
Bunny Dees) and
Charles &
Ann Turner (
Dave O’Brien,
Sarah Coble)—seem sociable enough, but soon, nephews
Bobby &
Corky Ford (
Glenn Caruth,
Billy Crawford) arrive for a visit and seem to rile the creature, perhaps
because they decided go fishing in its territory. For whatever reason, when the
Fouke Monster comes calling, quite the ruckus results, making this the most
energetic and engaging story in the movie.
Following the climax, adult Jim returns to his childhood home and reminisces
about those long-gone days when he would hear the creature’s frightening cries
coming out of the darkness. In a memorable scene, as the sun sets on the
landscape, Jim says, “I almost wish I could once again hear that terrible cry,
just to remind me that there is still some wilderness left.” And so the cry
does again rise into the night, and the ballad of the Boggy Creek
Creature—sung by Charles B. Pierce himself (credited as
Chuck Bryant)—plays over the end credits. It’s cheesy yet evocative
little piece, which conveys the loneliness the creature feels out there
in the bog.
Perhaps he dimly wonders why
There is no other such as I.
To touch, to love, before I die,
To listen to my lonely cry.
As crude and even naïve as
The Legend of Boggy Creek must seem to
those of the younger set, who never experienced the allure and excitement of
fright flicks at drive-in theaters and weekend movie-house matinées, the film
was, in its way, ground-breaking. With its low budget and earthy documentary
style, the film clearly influenced the makers of
The Blair Witch Project and other minimalist, ostensibly “real”
indie movies. In Boggy Creek, at no time do
we get a clear, vivid view of the monster. It is always scene in shadows or
silhouetted, often partially obscured by foliage—all of which works to the
viewer’s benefit, for that which cannot be fully seen can hardly be criticized
as “fakey.” Indeed, it is not seeing the creature in its entirety
that makes it more convincing.
As for the human cast, there are no “stars.” Most of the residents of Fouke
were able to make an appearance, either in front of or behind the camera.
Director Pierce simply wrangled as much help as he could get from the
townsfolk, which certainly kept the film’s the budget manageable. While few of
the cast would ever find themselves accused of being actors, in most cases,
their raw, untrained energy brings a touch of both whimsy and verisimilitude
to the proceedings.
There is no doubt
The Legend of Boggy Creek helped spawn
a plethora of movies about big hairy cryptids. The early 1970s saw plenty of
them (many of which I still quite love, however bad they might be).
The Creature From Black Lake, Sasquatch: The Legend of Bigfoot, Snowbeast,
The Mysterious Monsters, and many more owe
much to Charles B. Pierce’s vision. While
The Legend of Boggy Creek itself was
part of an already rolling cryptid bandwagon, it rose well above most of its
contemporaries and imitators, and it is one of the few that are now
well-remembered, going on fifty years after its release.
The beautifully restored version of the film can be rented on
Amazon.com for
$3.99. I strongly recommend it.
 |
Now, what do you reckon that big old dude over there is up to?
|
 |
Well, maybe not a lot, but what a mighty fun fellow!
|
