I was still in grade school when I started hunting for Bigfoot.

It helps to grow up in a particularly rural suburb of Washington state, sure, and the frequent family camping trips didn't hurt, but more than that was the allure of that which was unaccounted for, and yet, was still so close to my everyday existence (damn near literally right in my own backyard).

Much like marijuana supposedly leads to "harder drugs," so too did my pursuit of Sasquatch turn into an investigation of UFOs, and eventually an interest in damn near all things cryptozoological, extraterrestrial and otherwise paranormal.

By the time I was in third grade, I was "self-publishing" WHISPER magazine, a faux-tabloid dedicated to chronicling my own version of The X-Files, damn near a decade ahead of its time.

Not even 10 years old, and I was hooked, man; I was a hardcore junkie for this shit, who could quote chapter and verse of both the Condon report and the works of Grover S. Krantz, professor of anthropology at Washington State University and one of the few distinguished academics to unashamedly declare his belief in the existence of Bigfoot.

Hell, I MET Grover Krantz, probably around fifth grade.

My mom took me to the WSU campus at Pullman, and there he was, in a classroom lab, surrounded by plaster casts of Sasquatch footprints.

I didn't pick up on it at the time, but I suspect now that he was probably just humoring an indulgent mother's request at first, until he started explaining what makes the plaster casts such compelling evidence, and I said, "Because of the detail of the dermal ridges," and he blinked and said, "That's right," after which he started talking to me, rather than talking over my head to my mom, about his Bigfoot hunting research.

Grover Krantz died in 2002, at the age of 70.

I didn't have the mind for the hard science that anthropology would have required, and journalism has suited my personality and talents much better as a career field, but every once in a while, I still regret not being one of Grover Krantz's undergraduate students at WSU, if only because I would have loved to have gone on one of his summer expeditions in search of Bigfoot.

Which brings us, in an incredibly roundabout way, to Mothman:



The Mothman Prophecies opens with a caption that reads, "Based on actual events."

Even speaking as someone who takes these reports seriously, I'd amend that to read, "Based LOOSELY on actual events," for reasons starting with the fact that the actual events in question took place in the late 1960s, whereas The Mothman Prophecies establishes them as occurring in the (relatively) present day.

Then again, this is precisely what cuts to the heart of why it's so goddamned difficult to make a movie about real-life unexplained phenomena, because while any movie based on real-life events is going to represent a tug-of-war between factual details and the needs of a narrative, the gulf between the two is bound to be especially wide in the case of something like Mothman.

I mean, how the fuck do you even MAKE a movie about something like THIS?

If you stick strictly to putting the recorded details of the case onscreen, you're left with this laundry list of sightings that ends as randomly and as inexplicably as it began, which makes for a great documentary but a shitty story.

By contrast, if you try to finesse those accounts into something approaching a more linear and sensible series of events, you run the risk of ascribing definitive explanations to occurrences that remain so haunting precisely because no such answers have been found, even after all these years.

The Mothman Prophecies sidesteps this storytelling conflict by turning the seemingly unsolvable mystery itself into the point of the exercise, and in a rather gravity-defying feat, it actually works.

The result is a thoughtful, affecting movie that manages the neat hat-trick of piquing one's curiosity about the subject matter, at the same time that it warns you to leave well enough alone.

It certainly doesn't hurt that the story rests on the shoulders of four very effective actors - Richard Gere, Laura Linney, the since-departed Alan Bates, and the woefully overlooked, always excellent Will Patton - all of whom make a fine art out of the understatement of emotion, and all of whom wind up playing characters who, each in their own way, are suffering from serious PTSD, as a direct result of their exposures to the unfathomable.

Much is made of the fact that Gere's John Klein and Bates' Alexander Leek were each created to represent different aspects of John Keel, the real-life investigator who wrote about Mothman, but just as significant are Linney's small-town sheriff and Patton's working-class contactee.

As the film's protagonist, Gere is a relentless, very nearly self-destructive seeker, continually grasping and moving ever forward out of an instinctive need to fill the void in his life, while Bates is the looming specter of Gere's possible future, a burned-out scholar who lost everything he valued in his own quest, and wound up permanently weirded out as a result (it's worth noting that Bates' odd head tilts and eerie stares make him seem almost as sinister as the elusive truth that he once sought out).

On the other side, Patton portrays the tragedy of a decent but simple man who's caught up in something much bigger than he could ever hope to wrap his head around, which results in his gradual disintegration, as he spins his wheels in impotent fixation ... while Linney actually seems to find the closest thing to a "healthy" approach of any of the characters, through stoic avoidance of any contemplation of the deeper questions raised by what she's witnessed.

I should mention, as well, that Mark Pellington's direction and the soundtrack by tomandandy combine to create an appropriately alien audiovisual package that practically qualifies as the movie's fifth major player in its own right.

Whenever I want to put my mind in a slightly out-of-sync place, the tomandandy soundtrack to The Mothman Prophecies is one of those scores that I can trust to unnerve me as soon as I press "play."

So, yeah, consider this a recommendation, from someone who's put in some research time of his own in this field.

Yes, the Mothman Prophecies is an effective film, all the moreso by blurring the metatextual elements. I was saddened by an account of author Keel's final days (he died just this year) that described him as a reclusive grumpy old man, bordering senility, pushing away even his friends and supporters, living in a home so filthy and cluttered that social services had to send people in hazmat gear in to clean it out for him. That's the final fate awaiting the reverse-spelled Leek from the movie.

Shame. Keel was a fascinating author. Apart from his anomalist writings he was head writer on the Merv Griffin Show, joke writer for Jackie Gleason, game show ideas man for Goodson and Todman, travel series author for the Armed Forces Network, slapstick comedy writer for kids TV series Mack and Meyer for Hire and The Chuck McCann Show; he wrote "spicy paperbacks" as Harry Gibbs; humourist as Maynard Gibson and Thornton M Vaseltarp PhD for Screw magazine; he scripted the pilot for a German SF TV series. He even wrote Superman and Captain Marvel.

I watched the movie at home a couple of years after it's release, on one of the rare occasions when Sal and the children were away from home and I could sit up late with the lights out and get drawn into the spookiness. It delivered with the spookiness. I drew upon the feel of the film quite heavily when I wrote the Untold Tales horror arc Black's Crossing (UT# 101-104).

The main idea of Keel's that the movie encapsulates is the idea that once one has wandered "off the reservation" - experienced things outside human normality - it is never possible to go back home again. Keel's own life, with men in black and strange wiretaps and bilocation and time anomalies, was strangely akin to that of the screen characters. Did the movie weirdness start at Point Pleasant because there was going to be a disaster there, or did it cause the disaster, or did the strangeness lie in wait especially for investigator John Klein, or did Klein cause it? Did the real life Mothman stuff draw Keel in or did Keel draw it out?

And let us not forget that like The Exorcist this is one of those "curse" movies where bad things are supposed to happen to those who acted in or created it (actually weird rather than bad in this case), and that some audiences at the time of the movie release claimed to have seen the Mothman himself in their movie theatre.

Anyway, Kirk's right. Good movie.

I believe I've seen bits and pieces of the movie, but not enough to really recall or make any kind of judgment about it.

Taking a critical eye to the basics of the actual events, it doesn't seem to require anything more than a mild mass hysteria to explain. 1 car of people sight a "monster", the story gets out and people go looking for it, others claim to see it now and again too, and more than a year later a bridge collapses.

As a result, I think Mothman is probably bunk. Now, the Goatman of Maryland... that's another story.