Frogman is a horror movie. I’m pretty sure the last horror movie that I paid to see in a theater was The Exorcist in 1973. I did that because I liked the book. I went to see Frogman because I liked the festival.
The legend of the Loveland Frog/Frogman can be traced to 1955. It got a little boost in 1972, but only recently has this creature of widely varied descriptions been seen as a crypid to embrace, promote, and maybe make some money off of. Perhaps the first example of the latter was the musical play Hot Damn! It’s the Loveland Frog in 2014. I missed it then and only became aware of it as the second attempt (AFAIK) to make something of the legend — the Frogman Festival — was taking shape. That first festival, which I attended, took place in 2023, with the fourth annual event set for March 2026.
Just over a year ago, Hot Damn! It’s the Loveland Frog was revived for a few performances in Loveland itself. I jumped at the chance to attend and reported on it here. About the same time, plans were announced for a city-connected Return of the Frogman Festival, which would take place that October and every leap year thereafter. I was out of town during that festival and may have been most disappointed by a missed opportunity to see the recently released Frogman movie. When I heard of plans for an October 2025 showing, I jumped again.
By the time I arrived at the Loveland Stage Company theater, I had read many of the reviews at IMDB and was prepared for a pretty bad movie. In hindsight, I think some of those negative reviews were well off the mark. To be clear, there are probably at least as many positive reviews as there are negative. It’s just that the negative ones had made more of an impression on me. After seeing the movie, I’m firmly in the “not as bad as expected” camp.
The audience no doubt had something to do with that. Of course, anything connected to the Loveland Frog is best experienced in Loveland. This crowd was there to have fun — several wore frog suits — not to be frightened. There are a few something-suddenly-jumps-at-you scenes, but they were, at least in this setting, pretty ineffective. I heard no gasps or screams. I did hear many laughs.
The Loveland of the movie is not the Loveland of the viewing. The movie was shot in Stillwater, MN, which isn’t all that much bigger than Loveland, OH (19,000 vs. 13,000), but somehow feels like it is, and the St. Croix River really is much bigger than the Little Miami. Some scenes in Fargo were shot in Stillwater, so there is that.
The Frogman of the movie may or may not be the Frogman of the legend. The frogish creature in the movie only appears in very brief glimpses and usually with less than optimal lighting and focus. My size appraisals range from about the size of a large cat to bigger than the biggest grizzly. In the novel The Exorcist, much of the supernatural goings on happened out of sight or were caught ever so briefly from the corner of one’s eye, leaving the reader to accept them or not. In the movie, that ambiguity got lost. There is no doubt that I, her on-screen mother, and everybody else in the theater saw Linda Blair’s head spin like a top. That, in my opinion, was a major shortcoming of the movie. Although the thing appearing in those on-screen Frogman glimpses might not exactly match any of the descriptions reported in real life, the quality of the glimpses is sort of similar.
While writing this, I’ve learned that Frogman is available for streaming from several services, including my go-to freebie Tubi. I’m rather happy that I didn’t know that earlier, as I might have just watched it in my living room and missed the fun gathering at the theater. After being alerted to this by IMDB, I searched for it on Tubi and found it listed beside a 1972 movie named Frogs with Ray Milland and Sam Elliot. In my mind, I had already awarded the Frogman promotional artwork bonus points for its creative facial image formed by branches. After seeing that there’s a good chance it intentionally resembles that of the earlier film, I’m just going to double those points.