Frogman: A Ribbiting Tale of Obsession and Cryptids

Before we dive into the film review, as an amateur cryptozoologist growing up, it would be criminal for me not to provide an introduction on the real Loveland Frog, or as the locals call it, the amphibian equivalent of Bigfoot with a touch of teenage angst – tall (for a frog), misunderstood, and with a penchant for roadside theatrics. This Ohioan legend made waves back in ’72, thanks to our trusty Loveland police force, who, it seems, had a bit too much time on their hands.

The tale kicks off, however, in 1955, with a businessman spotting a trio of Kermit’s distant cousins doing their best impersonation of a boy band by the road. Fast forward to 1972, and Officer Ray Shockey joins the ranks of the bewildered when he encounters what he believes is the Frogman, striking a pose by the riverside.

Enter stage left: Officer Mark Matthews, who turns the plot on its head by unveiling the ‘Frogman’ as nothing more than an ambitious iguana with dreams of grandeur and a missing tail.

In the grand pantheon of cryptid cinema, Sam Jacobs’ 2016 footage of the Loveland Frogman holds a special, albeit blurry, place. The video, a grainy nocturnal ballet, showcases the Frogman in all its ambiguous glory. Debate rages about the authenticity of this footage. Is it a groundbreaking discovery or just a man in a very unflattering frog suit? Could it be an actual frog that hit the gym a bit too hard? The world may never know. But one thing’s for sure: in the murky waters of cryptid documentation, Sam Jacobs’ contribution is less a splash and more a quaint, confusing ripple.

Despite the rational explanations, the townsfolk of Loveland have latched onto their slippery mascot like a lifeline in a sea of ordinariness. Move over, Paul Bunyan; the Loveland Frog is here, spawning not only cultural events but also becoming the stuff of local legend and bedtime stories – because what’s more comforting than a humanoid frog watching over your town?

The lore has sunk its webbed feet deep into the community, becoming as much a part of Loveland as any historical figure or natural landmark. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the best stories are the ones that leap right out at you. It seems Ohio’s tapestry of myths and legends is just as colorful and quirky as its inhabitants. Who knew all it took was a frog with an identity crisis to bring a town together?

That brings us to Frogman, directed by Anthony Cousins, emerging from the swampy depths of found footage horror to bring us a ribbiting tale that hops along the fine line between the absurd and the terrifying. The film, a narrative rooted in the obscure and relatively unexplored mythology of Ohio’s Loveland Frogman, adds a unique creature to the bestiary of horror cinema that’s traditionally been dominated by the likes of Bigfoot and Mothman.

We meet the beleaguered Dallas Kyle, portrayed with a convincing mix of desperation and conviction by Nathan Tymoshuk. Kyle, haunted by a childhood encounter with the amphibious anomaly and ridiculed by the digital age’s relentless skepticism, sets out to clear his name and prove the existence of the web-footed wonder. Accompanied by his cinematographer pal Scotty (Benny Barrett) and the aspiring actress Amy (Chelsey Grant), the film ventures into the dense foliage of found footage horror with a camcorder aesthetic that’s as nostalgic as it is nauseating.

“Is he an ancient god? Or is he an ancient alien, maybe? Or is he a big frog trying to get his rocks off?

Who gives a shit?”
– Scotty

Anthony Cousins, in his feature length directorial debut, doesn’t shy away from the muddy waters of B-movie horror. The film is a love letter to the genre, embracing its clichés while splashing in a few surprises of its own. The Loveland Frogman, often relegated to the footnotes of cryptid lore, is given a startling and memorable cinematic debut, complete with unnerving practical effects that pay homage to the creature features of yesteryear. Think the “Storm Drain” entry of “V/H/S/94” meets “Willow Creek.”

However, Frogman is not just a creature feature. What truly makes it palatable and watchable is the fact it’s a story of obsession, friendship, and the lengths one will go to reclaim a tarnished reputation. Cousins deftly balances the eerie with the absurd, crafting a film that’s aware of its own ridiculous premise but never feels like it’s laughing at its characters or its audience. This delicate balance is maintained by the earnest performances of the central trio, whose believable dynamics provide a solid emotional core amidst the film’s more outlandish elements.

Yet, for all its charms, Frogman is not without its warts. The film occasionally stumbles under the weight of its own ambition, with certain plot threads feeling underdeveloped or distractingly out of place. Moreover, while the film commendably embraces the found footage format’s constraints, it also succumbs to some of its more dizzying pitfalls—quite literally, in the case of the camera work. ***SPOILER WARNING*** One of my major issues is the video distortion that occurs way to frequently, particularly when the camera comes into proximity with Frogman, explained away as the creature’s ability to psychically interfere with the technology. Though it seems more likely to obscure some of the absurdity of the monster. ***END SPOILER WARNING***

In the end, Frogman stands as a testament to the enduring appeal of found footage horror and the inexhaustible allure of America’s lesser-known myths. Cousins crafts a film that’s as murky and mysterious as the waters of the Ohio River, offering a fresh take on a genre that often feels as stagnant as a pond in high summer. It may not revolutionize the field, but it moves in the right direction. It effectively blends humor, horror, and a touch of heart, making Frogman worth wading into – it’s truly better than it has any right to be. Just be prepared for a film that, much like its titular creature, is far more cunning and captivating than it first appears.