Hungry: It Loves to Feed Its Face

The “American Hippo Bill” was a perfect example of governmental over-reaction. To counter a supposed “meat shortage,” Rep. Robert Broussard (D-LA) authored legislation to introduce African hippos into the Louisiana bayous. Apparently, TR thought it was a bully idea, probably out of nostalgia for his safari days. In real life, Broussard’s scheme went nowhere because it was a ridiculous idea. In this movie, someone actually tried it. Consequently, there is at least one big angry pachyderm roaming around the Pelican State swamps in director-screenwriter James Nunn’s Hungry, vaguely inspired by the table-top game, which releases tomorrow on VOD.

Sistine was just fired during her vacation by the kind of demanding boss that can only exist these days in the movies. Any Millennial except Sistine would be complaining to HR and lawyering up, but Nunn wants to establish the victim status she will have to rise above to survive. Regardless, her bestie, Hannah booked them a swamp tour to watch gators, so they might as well enjoy it.

Back in reality, these tours can be fun. Unfortunately, Dionne, an obnoxious business traveler killing time before her red eye, tips their guide, Rodrigo, to show them the biggest gator in the swamp. Ill-advisedly, he follows the big guy’s GPS tag way beyond safe limits. Eventually, they find him all munched-up and dead. Obviously, anything big enough to chew up a 12-foot alligator will easily capsize their boat, leaving them in a world of hurt. Of course, Rodrigo’s cheapskate Portuguese boss, Walker, never overspent on safety precautions, but being a skilled hunter, he is probably sill their best hope, especially since they are fresh out of giant marbles to feed it.

Broussard’s Hippo Bill is a historical fact, so the film is built on a tiny kernel of truth. Nunn also deserves credit for his somewhat daring choice for the least sympathetic swamp tourist, undeniably Dionne—and the most virtuous, who would arguably be Tim, a retired FDNY fireman.

Grizzly Night: Based on a True Story

In 1967, two women were mauled by grizzlies in Glacier National Park. Cocaine was not involved. This film suggests it was caused by good old-fashioned lack of human responsibility. Some experts speculate severe thunderstorms might have also contributed to the bears’ agitation. Regardless, fire prevention duties occupied most of the park rangers, leaving rookie ranger-naturalist Joan Devereaux to largely deal with the madness on her own in Burke Doeren’s Grizzly Night, which releases tomorrow on VOD.

This is not a remake of the animal attack exploitation movie Grizzly! or the Western survival yarn, Night of the Grizzly, starring Clint Howard.  However, it is based on the same events chronicled in Jack Olsen’s nonfiction book also titled Night of the Grizzly. Surprisingly, Doeren’s film follows the facts of the case quite closely. Yet, weirdly, that makes it not quite classifiable as horror, but still generally an “exploitation” movie.

Devereaux was an expert in the park’s plant life, not its grizzlies. She hadn’t given many tours either, but after the thunderstorm, she must fill in where she is needed. When she stops at a privately operated chalet (grandfathered-in, because it predated the park’s charter), she is appalled to discover the manager lets the grizzlies paw through his garbage, to serve as an attraction for the tourists (sort of like whale-watching).

You don’t need to be Marlon Perkins to recognize the danger and distastefulness of such practices. Sure enough, the sounds of people in distress rouse Dr. John Lindberg and his family that night. Dr. Lindberg, Devereaux, and several tourists manage to schlep one of the injured girls, but her fellow clawed camper is still out there.

Ironically, Devereaux receives a report of another grizzly attack, which due to distance and timing is unlikely to be the same bear. Yet, through a twist of fate, both endangered victims were schoolfriends, with different camping parties, because there wasn’t much for teens to do in late 1960s Montana.

It is very clear Grizzly Night has no idea what it wants to be. The cool opening credit sequence evokes the grindhouse as-far-as-you-know-this-is-based-on-a-true-story (which it is) vibe of Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Yet, it then settles into a socially conscious environmental thriller bag, until the grizzlies strike. Yet, even the animal attacks are betwixt and between—too tame for horror and too graphic for network television.

Colin Minihan’s Coyotes

Usually, coyotes are reluctant to attack people, but it can happen. In this case, maybe they heard some Acme Corp. executives live in the tony Hollywood Hills neighborhood. Whatever their reasons might be, they are clearly quite ticked off. A geeky dad has no idea why the feral pack is prowling around his home, but he quickly starts to regret their doggy-door in Colin Minihan’s Coyotes, which opens this Friday in theaters.

Scott is a bit of a man-child, but the recent success in comics allowed him to move his family into the exclusive neighborhood. His wife Liv, is a cool mom, but obviously the grounded one in the family. Their daughter has reached the stage where she is conspicuously embarrassed by her parents and generally surly to be around. According to their disconcertingly intense exterminator, they are also living with rats in their walls. Unfortunately, that won’t be the worst of it.

Since this is LA, they could lose power at any moment, for no apparent cause, so it is hardly surprising when a freakish storm cuts the electric lines. Unfortunately, that tree Scott was supposed to prune crushes Liv’s car, nixing their mobility and making him look bad. Consequently, when the coyotes attack, their only ally will be their sleazy, unstable neighbor Trip and hi “visitor,” Julie. Frankly, Liv and Scott never really think of a good euphemism to obscure the reason Trip pays her to spend the night with him, which leads to many an awkward moment.