Avis des critiques

Goldthwaite knows that the true basis of horror filmmaking... lies in two of the most essential properties of the moving-image medium: duration and offscreen sound. There's a gorgeous formalism here, in the way that so much of the experience of the movie depends on empty time — waiting for something to happen — and on things that can be heard but not seen (the ambiguity of sounds that we more or less recognize, but whose source we cannot quite identify).

As if in homage to that ingenious groundbreaker ["The Blair Witch Project"], "Willow Creek" hugs the template with a deliberation that has the unfortunate effect of encouraging our brains to dance ahead of the script... But Mr. Goldthwait gives us lovely, buttery daylight scenes, nicely relaxed leads and dialogue that pays attention to fluctuating gender dynamics.

Dovetailing Jim's search for Bigfoot with his no less reckless wanting of marriage, Goldthwait lays bare a characteristic male pursuit of power to which females are often made subservient. In the end, Willow Creek may not scare the bejesus out of you, but it may surprise for how cannily it detonates the presumptuousness of more than just one brand of masculine mythmaking.

As with nearly all found footage movies, the mechanic does falter and sap credibility from the drama... [But Goldthwait] does at least opt for doing some interesting things with it, most notably a static long take from the interior of the tent when the couple monitor the cacophony of moans and howls from outside, as well as, later a really interesting shot of the camera being dragged quickly across the woodland floor.

Willow Creek was the best among the smattering of genre movies, thanks to its appealing, funny leads (Alexie Gilmore and Bryce Johnson); feeling for American obsessives; and a stand-up's sense of timing, which gives shape to its centerpiece, a static single take lasting nearly twenty minutes. Goldthwait finds signs of life in the moribund found-footage horror template...