Jon Olsen of San Francisco apparently didn't get the memo about the era of the Sasquatch movie being past its heyday, so he took cameras into the wilds of the Armstrong State Preserve in Humboldt County, California, to do the first Bigfoot Love Story or, uh, Bigfoot Sexual Assault Story.

Actually it's both. "Ape Canyon" tells the story of an amorous forest-dwelling Sasquatch who lusts after Britney Spears and uses hikers, backpackers and nature photographers to satisfy his raging simian hormones. Half-man, half-ape, he stalks his prey like a Hell's Angel trolling the roadhouses, takes his pleasure, then flees since it seems that, once a woman's been satisfied by an ape, she'll never again be content with her merely human bedmate. Pretty soon the woods are thronged with pining poetry-spouting babes trying to nab an ape husband.

Unfortunately for Bigfoot, a gun-toting redneck slacker discovers his wife has been violated by the gorilla-man, and he strikes out into the forest in search of vengeance and apemeat. Meanwhile, Sasquatch's urges have grown so powerful that every time he has sex, he gets a white stripe up his back that looks suspiciously like his hairy skin is splitting apart at the seams. Who will find him first? Darcy, the trailer-park tramp and candidate for "The Jerry Springer Show," or Bill, her buck-toothed mumbledy-mouthed couch-potato husband?

Obviously we're into goofball territory here, a sort of ultra-low-budget cross between "King Kong" and "I Spit On Your Grave." The plot line is so thin that it would fall apart entirely if it weren't for some outstanding performances by Clover Lutter, as the lovesick Juliet with a poetry journal so excruciatingly bad that it makes Sasquatch clutch at his ears in pain, and Chris Henry, as the dimwit cuckold with a sidearm. The climactic sequence is very funny, but too disgusting to reveal here and I should go ahead and warn you, there's an abundance of bodily-function humor that will be popular down at the frat house but might be too intense for their more squeamish girlfriends.

In other words, it's the finest Bigfoot rape-revenge flick ever made by people with way too much time on their hands.

I loved it, of course.

Let's take a look at those drive-in totals. We have:

Eleven dead bodies. Eight Hot Sasquatch Love scenes. One Sasquatch "Deliverance" scene. Groin-crushing. Lifetime Network Bigfoot Fantasy Sequence. Two Shaky Cam chases. Tree-branch impalement. Multiple bodily-function jokes, many of them featuring a giant half-man, half-ape. Rock-to- the-head-bashing. Bigfoot palm-frond dance interlude. Sasquatch Wrestlemania. Literal tree-hugging. Sleeping-bag tree-bashing. Poetry Fu. Drive-In Academy Award nominations for Clover Lutter, as the Hooters waitress who learns to love Apeman Nookie and wanders the woods screaming "Sasquatch! I love you! Where are you! I won't hurt you! Unless you want me to! We'll move to Miami!"; Chris Henry, as the suspicious husband whose favorite phrase is "Shut the hell up!"; and Jon Olsen, the director and co-writer, for doing things the drive-in way.