...And waits...and waits...while the deep-cable soap opera people work through their issues and have meaningful adult contemporary sex. They're park rangers if that helps. It's some kind of demon in the woods.

hey cool
It likes to do funny stuff with the bodies
but YUCK
Well guess what, I wasn't happy with the movie's characters

Oh it's that salon-perfect actress from Sasquatch Mountain again, looking about as much like a park ranger as Rob Zombie looks like captain of a swim team. She's an ex marine too, and probably a fireman. Ever accidentally walk down the beauty aisle at Target? It's like that. Funny to see her pretending to be a dishevelled drunk with "no makeup on" - you'd break a diamond-tipped jackhammer trying to muss that hair. Anyway she's back in her trademark perfectly packed white tank top, and Boris Vallejo would fall to his knees and weep before these boobs. Does a lot of scenes alone with a talking parrot. I don't want to be mean, so gonna let y'all make up your own joke about that. Maybe something about doing press ups in the marines too.

Why do the blandly inoffensive characters in this movie bug me so much? Well I watch horror movies for a reason, and it's not to see Danny and Justin here share touchy-feely dialogue while they listen to songs from Dawson's Creek. I was going to give the movie a point for killing off ruggedly sensitive boyfriend early on, but then she's gotta have flashbacks of all their tender moments I almost swallowed my tongue getting through the first time. And now here comes a condescending wiser-than-thou Indian with his "white people are stupid for not believing in all the same things Indians do" bit and the movie would just be better off with an all parrot cast.

The horror portion is too feeble to compete with the giant character-shaped blot on the movie, although I do like how the demon goofs around with the corpses. It keeps diggin'
'em back up and posing them where she'll see and scream and have to bury them again, only to find boyfriend's head right back on the breakfast table the next day. He sure was a good boyfriend. But anyway aside from that it's just a plasticky monster costume and blood being splashed onto trees or squirted into hollering faces to simulate offscreen injuries. I reckon they blew their budget on tank tops and eyebrow pencil.

I don't recall how it ends, but I imagine our heroine kills the creature with stuff she learned in the marines. The isolated ranger fire watch station could have been a great horror movie setting; hope someone does does a movie like that with a pro monster like Bigfoot. Nothing to see here though, 'cept Michelangelo-perfect tank top boobs.