"My first live-action feature film. It is a found footage comedy/horror film inspired by the likes of The Blair Witch Project, Monty Python, Tim Heidecker, Eric Wareheim, Tommy Wiseau, and Sacha Baron Cohen. With cheesie acting, a Wendingo stick, bloody shirts, dinosaur bellows, X's, electric shocks, ghost whispers, and many more, it truly smells like... Wendango time. By the way, no script was written, all the dialogue was improvised."
Skipped around. "Blood, Milk, and Sky" deserves a five. Not willing to watch the rest of the movie.
On a related note, Wendigos terrify me. More so than any other monster, including Ammut The Devourer.
This movie is just under an hour and 20 minutes long, but I bet it took nearly 3 hours to make.
I googled Wendigos and learned that there is a smutty book series devoted to Wendigo porn. Taken By The Wendigo, it's called. You all should read it and report back.
"Taken By The Wendigo 3: Cum Inside The Cave
A group called Crypto Explorers Inc shows up at Wild Lake. The Explorers are investigating the sightings of sasquatch-type creatures. They want fame and they want to achieve it by finding evidence of the Wendigo's existence.
In a sexual encounter with four of the creatures, Jason has a first-time gay experience with a male.
And the Crypto Explorers find the Wendigo Cave.
MEET THE AUTHOR
Angelina Jenoire Hamilton is a writer of smutty stories based on her life and the lives of her friends.
As an ex-editor of a woman's magazine, ex-escort and owner of Top Notch Erotic Fiction, she knows what turns readers on.
Dirty-minded and sometimes hedonistic, Angelina puts herself onto every page of her work. "
Seriously, Wendigos are terrifying. I LJed before about how my mom worked as the secretary for a Native American New Age cult leader, right? And how, as a child, I spent a lot of time being dragged along to powwows and other more-or-less Nativey things? One of my most vivid memories was of going to a sweat lodge in northern New Hampshire, and while my mom was off with all the hippies doing yoga and bending spoons or whatever, I was left in the care of a wizened old Algonquin storyteller. This guy had to have been about a hundred years old, one of the last authentic Algonquin storytellers left, and by the flickering light of a native fire, he told me the tale of how the Wendigo stalked the woods, kidnapping and cannibalizing sobbing little children. One child tried to make his father proud by grabbing a bow and killing the Wendigo himself; the kid's bones were found strung up in a tree three days later, alongside the flesh of his baby sister.
I couldn't go into any wooded area for about a year after that.
Wendigos are basically Predator mixed with werewolves, slenderman, Hannibal Lecter, and a kamaitachi. This movie does not do them justice.
My grandmother was bitten by a WereDago and turned into an Italian once a month (when the moon hit her eye like a big pizza pie).
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