My quick rating – 2.1/10. I will admit it right up front. The main reason I picked Big Foot Burgers was that it only runs 64 minutes. After watching the trailer while setting up this review, I knew exactly what I was getting into. The poster alone practically waves a giant warning flag that says, “So you watch everything, huh? Enjoy this one.”
The plot itself is even more outrageous than the name suggests. Bigfoot emerges from his cave to rescue a little girl trapped in a forest fire. Instantly, he becomes a celebrity, learns what hamburgers are, and opens a very successful hamburger joint in Los Angeles. But when the recession threat hangs over their heads, the waitresses devise plans that get more and more pointless. That’s the movie. Somehow.
Things kick off with what appears to be public-domain footage of a massive wildfire. A reporter interviews the distressed mother of the missing child before Bigfoot nonchalantly emerges from the blaze and carries her out to safety, conveniently dumping her right next to where the reporter is interviewing the mother. Forget fame, though. Bigfoot has more important priorities. Specifically, stealing a burger from a “Food for Firefighters ONLY” station. One bite later, and his entire future career path is decided.
The Bigfoot costume deserves a mention. It looks like something that made its way to the floor in the clearance aisle after Halloween. The credits roll over colorful cartoon backgrounds and an upbeat tune, which somehow feels more expensive than most of the movie itself.
Once Big Foot Burgers opens, the film quickly reveals its true business model. Cleavage with a side of fries. The movie repeatedly tries to make cooking burgers look sexy, but the camera work and editing are so frantic that it often looks like people are suffering from mild electrical malfunctions. The acting is exactly what you’d expect from a movie called Big Foot Burgers. Nobody is hiding the budget either. At one point, the film literally uses an “AI Report” video to explain the restaurant’s success story, complete with green-screen interviews.
Writer/director Cindy Lucas throws every idea imaginable at the wall. A recession hits. Gas prices rise. Commercials appear. Random celebrity cameos arrive. There are references to Becky LeBeau and Deborah Dutch that will probably only excite fans of obscure 1980s B-movies. Bigfoot spends much of the movie hanging out with groupies, receiving lap dances, and generally acting less like a legendary cryptid and more like a washed-up rock star. At one point, they’re even making “Kick Kok” videos because subtle parody wasn’t on the menu.
Most of the film consists of increasingly desperate attempts to save the restaurant, which mostly translates into finding new excuses to feature the waitresses. Despite all the effort, very little of it is funny. The jokes rarely land, the story barely exists, and the low-budget charm never becomes charming enough to overcome the sheer stupidity.
My initial concern after seeing the trailer turned out to be completely justified. Big Foot Burgers is every bit as awful as I feared, and unfortunately, not nearly funny enough to make that awfulness entertaining.
