I had never really taken a close look at the 1967 PG film before. Sure, I'd seen it numerous times, but I'd never bothered to properly analyze what I was looking at. (Frankly, I've never been that interested in Bigfoot.) As a result, my interpretation of the footage had largely been shaped by what others claimed to see in it. However, after watching Capturing Bigfoot, I decided to take a closer look at it myself. And one thing quickly became apparent: much of what has been said about the footage, by believers and skeptics alike, seems to be based on assumptions and good old-fashioned pareidolia. Even the new high-resolution scan of the original film reveals surprisingly little detail. All the talk about muscles moving beneath the thick fur, not to mention the endless speculation about moving toes and thumbs, can probably simply be dismissed without much further consideration. No real need of any high tech suite there.
But then there are certain claims frequently made by believers that skeptics often take seriously enough to try to disprove. One of the most common is that the creature's arms are "unusually long", with proportions that supposedly don't match those of a human. But when I watch the film, I simply don't see any unusually long arms. So where does this claim actually come from?! Skeptics have often suggested that the arms could have been artificially extended using sticks concealed inside the sleeves, or perhaps gloves with elongated fingers. Personally, though, I'm not convinced there's anything unusual about the arm length that needs explaining in the first place. What I see when looking at that blurry, furry silhouette are proportions that seem perfectly consistent with those of a human in a padded suit.
In the still image above, I've lightened the background to make the creature's proportions easier to distinguish. The arms appear to reach almost to the knees, with the legs slightly bent. That's pretty much exactly where my own hands end up when I stand in a similar pose. Of course, it's entirely possible that the costume had some sort of oversized ape hands, slightly larger than those of a human. Looking at photographs of gorilla suits from the mid-20th century, relatively large hands seem to have been a common feature. The image below, for example, is from the 1951 film
Bride of the Gorilla.
And then there's the famous walk. It's sometimes claimed that the creature in the PG film walks in a way that would be impossible for a human to replicate. But once again, I find myself questioning whether there's anything here that actually needs debunking, because I simply don't see what others claim to see. In the clip below, we can watch the section of the film where the "creature" is closest to the camera, with both legs clearly visible and unobstructed.
And to me, it looks remarkably similar to an ordinary man strolling through the woods. The knees aren't even bent all that much. In fact, I'm not entirely convinced that the posture suggests an actor deliberately trying to imitate some sort of crouching, ape-like walk. The slightly bent legs could just as easily be explained by the costume being rather heavy and cumbersome, making it difficult to navigate the uneven terrain, especially with limited visibility through a mask.
Which brings me to my main point. I don't think attempts to debunk the Patterson–Gimlin film should focus on explaining away pareidolia and unsupported claims. If someone insists that the creature's arms are too long to belong to a human, the appropriate response shouldn't necessarily be to explain how a costume could have been constructed with artificially elongated arms. Instead, the claim itself should be challenged. Where is the evidence that the arms are unusually long in the first place?
The same goes for the supposedly impossible walk. Before trying to demonstrate how a human could reproduce it, shouldn't we first establish that there's actually something unusual about it? The burden of proof should rest with those claiming that the creature has non-human proportions or moves in a way no human possibly could. Such extraordinary claims require actual evidence, not simply interpretations of a blurry silhouette.
Patterson was certainly a clever man, and I suspect he understood just how poor the image quality needed to be to prevent viewers from identifying details that might give away the costume. Consequently, it's virtually impossible to conclusively debunk the film through an analysis of the footage alone. But the reverse is equally important: I have yet to see a single detail in the film that is genuinely inconsistent with a man wearing an ape suit. And if there's nothing in the footage that actually requires an extraordinary explanation, perhaps there's not much worth debunking in the first place. Trying to explain away supposedly elongated limbs and an allegedly impossible walk only plays into the hands of believers.
I have one question, though: what do you make of the newly discovered clip presented in Capturing Bigfoot? I'm thinking mainly of when it might have been shot. The film itself was produced in 1966, but that doesn't necessarily mean it was shot that year. At first glance, the vegetation seems to indicate that it was filmed in the fall, with lots of yellow and red leaves:
However, the problem is that the entire film seems to have a reddish color cast. Just look at the rider's face, or the blurry mess at the beginning of the film, when the camera is shaking:
If the film was shot in the fall, I would say the fall of 1966 is the best guess, with the fall of 1967 also being a possibility. The former is a bit problematic, since we have no indication that Patterson had access to a camera back then, let alone that he was filming staged Bigfoot footage. The latter, on the other hand, is also somewhat questionable, since it would suggest that the newly discovered footage was shot almost simultaneously with the famous Bluff Creek clip.
Which leaves us with a third option: that the footage was part of the mockumentary-style movie Patterson was trying to shoot in the Ahtanum Creek area in the summer of 1967. Personally, this seems like the most plausible explanation to me, if it weren't for the autumn-looking landscape. But what do you think? Could the red and yellow colors in the surrounding vegetation possibly be explained by dried-out vegetation combined with a reddish color cast in the film?
This was a long post, but it's basically all of my thoughts on the whole PG debacle.