"Jaws" was a huge hit in '75, so it comes as no surprise that at least one mid-70's Sasquatch cinema outing was specifically made to capitalize on the meteoric success of the Spielberg smash. The only startling thing about this strictly ho-hum made-for-TV terror picture is that it not only blatantly copies "Jaws," but also William Girdler's equally derivative "Jaws"-with-claws offering "Grisly" as well! A huge, hulking, growling murderous yeti terrorizes a Colorado ski resort during an annual winter carnival. The resort's snippy old lady owner (a severely wasted Sylvia Sidney) dismisses any possibility that an albino Bigfoot is on the attack and keep things quiet so business won't be negatively affected. But the owner's concerned grandson (blandly played by "Wilderness Family" film series star Robert Logan) decides to investigate the disappearance of a luckless skier and discovers that the creature is both very real and a grave threat to the resort's guests. So Logan treks into the woods along with a has-been ski champion (a sleepwalking Bo Svenson) and the stalwart sheriff (a stolid Clint Walker) to hunt the pesky critter down.
Original "Psycho" scribe Joseph Stefano's by-the-numbers cookie cutter script flatly recycles the standard "Jaws" formula: a killing occurs, there's a cover-up, another killing happens, mass panic ensues, and a motley assortment of gutsy guys join forces to take on the offending beastie. The shopworn premise isn't helped any by pedestrian direction, draggy pacing, a debilitating dearth of tension, soap opera-like characters and situations, a slushy score, infrequent glimpses of the monster, tacky red-tinted freeze frames, and a predictable ending. On the plus side both Annie ("Warlords of the 21st Century") McEnroe and Yvette ("Devil Dog: The Hound from Hell") Mimieux make for highly fair damsels in distress, the wintry mountainside scenery looks gorgeous, and Frank ("Corvette Summer") Stanley's cinematography rises well above the sub-par material with its expert use of extremely effective hand-held monster-on-the-prowl POV shots. Unfortunately, the flick's pervasive sense of boob tube banality ensures that things never come to life and start seriously cooking the way they should, thereby dooming this damp squid to outright mediocrity.
Original "Psycho" scribe Joseph Stefano's by-the-numbers cookie cutter script flatly recycles the standard "Jaws" formula: a killing occurs, there's a cover-up, another killing happens, mass panic ensues, and a motley assortment of gutsy guys join forces to take on the offending beastie. The shopworn premise isn't helped any by pedestrian direction, draggy pacing, a debilitating dearth of tension, soap opera-like characters and situations, a slushy score, infrequent glimpses of the monster, tacky red-tinted freeze frames, and a predictable ending. On the plus side both Annie ("Warlords of the 21st Century") McEnroe and Yvette ("Devil Dog: The Hound from Hell") Mimieux make for highly fair damsels in distress, the wintry mountainside scenery looks gorgeous, and Frank ("Corvette Summer") Stanley's cinematography rises well above the sub-par material with its expert use of extremely effective hand-held monster-on-the-prowl POV shots. Unfortunately, the flick's pervasive sense of boob tube banality ensures that things never come to life and start seriously cooking the way they should, thereby dooming this damp squid to outright mediocrity.