Let’s just get this out of the way: The Crater Lake Monster is not just a bad film, it’s a certified disaster in a waterlogged, prehistoric package. If you were hoping for a Jaws style thriller with a twist of Jurassic Park, then buckle up, because what you’ll actually get is a slow-motion wreck that makes you wonder if the filmmakers had actually seen a horror movie before.
Plot: A Tale of Bad Fish and Even Worse Choices
The plot involves a plesiosaurus—yes, a prehistoric, swimming terror—that’s been sleeping in Crater Lake for centuries (and not the famous one in Oregon, mind you, because why go to a famous location when you can pick a lake no one cares about). The creature is awakened by a meteorite, because, apparently, nothing says “I’m alive!” like a flaming rock plummeting into the water. The creature then goes on a killing spree because why not? It’s not like anyone bothered to take the time to explain why the giant reptile’s first instinct after years of slumber is to eat people. But hey, it’s a B-movie, who needs logic?
Characters: A Collection of Walking Plot Devices
Sheriff Steve Hanson (played by Richard Cardella) is our fearless protagonist—except he’s neither fearless nor a competent hero. He’s the kind of sheriff who makes a stand against the terrifying force of nature while somehow coming off like he’s half asleep during every scene. Then, there’s Arnie and Mitch—two guys who decide to start a boat rental business and end up in a mortal struggle against a prehistoric killer fish. Really, Arnie and Mitch are the kind of guys who would have been eaten first in a better movie.
The Horror: Monster? More Like a Floating Disappointment
And now, the monster—the big, bad creature lurking beneath the waters of Crater Lake. But here’s the thing: The creature looks like a cross between a forgotten theme park animatronic and an angry inflatable pool toy. The movie teases us with blurry shots of the thing and offers some nauseatingly bad special effects that would make you question whether the filmmakers had ever even seen a dinosaur before. The monster’s big, sure, but it’s also about as scary as a rubber fish you find at the bottom of a dollar bin. At one point, you’ll probably laugh when it “attacks” because it looks more like a giant inflatable toy than an actual menace.
Acting: More Wooden Than the Boat
The acting here is so stiff, you’d think the actors had been frozen in time like their prehistoric counterpart. Richard Cardella (Sheriff Steve) is a walking mannequin, while Glenn Roberts (Arnie) somehow brings less emotion to the table than the lake itself. Honestly, the best acting in the film comes from the meteorite. It shows up for a minute, causes some mild destruction, and then vanishes, leaving the audience wondering why it couldn’t have taken the whole movie with it.
The Climax: Bulldozers vs. Plesiosaur—It’s Exactly as Stupid as It Sounds
The final showdown? A bulldozer. Yes, you read that correctly. The sheriff, armed with nothing but a heavy machine and a death wish, decides the only way to take down a giant, prehistoric sea monster is to slam into it repeatedly with a bulldozer. The scene is so ridiculous that it defies all logic, and I can’t help but wonder if the filmmakers were actually just trying to make it more absurd as they went along. The creature dies after a series of bulldozer-induced neck injuries, leaving viewers both puzzled and disappointed.
Final Thoughts: The Only Thing Scarier Than the Monster Is the Runtime
At the end of it all, The Crater Lake Monster isn’t just a bad movie; it’s a masterclass in how to take a potentially fun concept (giant, murderous creature from the deep) and turn it into a dull, nonsensical disaster. The monster’s an inflatable joke, the plot’s a hodgepodge of tired clichés, and the acting is somehow worse than a local theater production of Sharknado. If you’re looking for a film to mock with friends and drown your sorrows in popcorn, then The Crater Lake Monster is your ticket to a night of unintentional comedy. Just don’t expect to come out of it with any more knowledge of prehistoric sea creatures than you had when you went in.
