Of all the world’s cryptozoological curiosities I like the chupacabra the most. I’ve researched Bigfoot, Champ (the lake monster in Lake Champlain), along with Mothman, Lizard Man, the Kraken, and myriad monsters over my career. But the chupacabra is my favorite; I spent five years investigating and writing a book on the beast (Tracking the Chupacabra: The Vampire Beast in Fact, Fiction, and Folklore).

Quite aside from whether or not the creatures literally exist (as vampires feeding on goats, chickens, and livestock throughout the Americas), they exist in popular culture and as folkloric figures. In a previous Skeptical Inquirer article I examined how the chupacabra has been depicted in toys and figurines over time (see below), and recently I turned my attention to the chupacabra’s appearances in television and film. Depictions of the monster in movies are especially ironic, since as described in my book the first eyewitness description of the chupacabra was itself drawn from a Hollywood film, the 1995 sci-fi/horror film Species (and specifically its H.R. Giger-designed monster, Sil).

There are only a dozen or so films and direct-to-video creature features starring the chupacabra as a movie monster, and here I offer a brief look at the little-known Spanish-language gem Ahi Viene El Chupacabras (Here Comes the Chupacabra).

The film begins with an alien spaceship hovering over a city night. The special effects make the first season of TV’s Doctor Who look like Avatar, and the flying saucer resembles a boxy drone. The UFO crashes, resulting in flaming aluminum foil wreckage about the size of a television, and a weird hand reaches in from offscreen to salvage a small shiny silver purse or bag.

The titular “chupacabra” is first seen as a man in a gorilla or Bigfoot suit with bat wings under the arms and gargoyle mask, chasing some goats in the darkness. Soon however he transforms, in apparent werewolf-like fashion, into a naked middle-aged man (Alfonso Zayas, demonstrating mastery of double takes and wacky facial tics). It is in this form—aided by what seems to be a grade schooler’s version of a Star Trek tricorder contained within the silvery bag which, after typing in questions, answers his queries about strange Earth customs—that he explores Earth (or, in this case, Guadalajara, Mexico, where it was filmed).

He befriends a perpetually drunk sidekick (Cesar Bono) who informs the alien chupacabra-turned-gargoyle-faced-gorilla-turned bug-eyed man that his quest to suck the blood from goats is doomed since they are in the city, and there are no goats nearby.

For reasons that are never quite explained, the chupacabra decides that virgin blood is an acceptable substitute, and hilarity ensues as the pair spend the rest of the film searching for virgins and getting into wacky mishaps such as one involving a stripper dancing to the (surely non-copyright cleared) song Spirit in the Sky.

Unbeknownst to them, two scientists (we know their profession, as they wear glasses and lab coats and navigate around dozens of beakers randomly scattered in their one-room laboratory) are on their trail. The female scientist, played by Luz Maria Guizar, is of course a sexless—and as we come to learn, virginal—nerd, until she lets her hair down and is revealed to be a ravishing beauty. In order to protect her from the creepy middle-aged perv—I mean, the bloodthirsty chupacabra—her scientist co-worker selflessly deflowers her in the final scene.

Ahi Viene El Chupacabras is a comedy, not a horror film, and doesn’t even try to take the monster seriously. Along the way we learn that the monster fears bananas (“It’s like kryptonite to Superman!” the chupacabra wails to his inebriated buddy, when confronted with the fruit). There are pratfalls, a Yakety Sax chase sequence, and so on. You get the idea.

The film is tough going for anyone who’s not a fan of campy, low-budget schlock (and/or the style of Mexican sketch comedies such as El Chavo). It is nevertheless interesting from popular culture and cryptozoological perspectives. Perhaps most importantly it’s one of the first films featuring the chupacabra as a monster. Ahi Viene El Chupacabras was released in 1996, a year before the vampiric creature was introduced to English-speaking audiences in an episode of The X-Files (see below).

Of course the film is entirely devoid of anything resembling what would come to be recognized as a chupacabra. This is likely due to several reasons including the low budget; since an actor is cheaper than a costume or monster makeup and special effects, if you have a strange monster than can assume human form for most of its screen time, you do it. The transformation theme also appears in Species, in which the alien monster, Sil, is female and portrayed in human form by Canadian model Natasha Henstridge. 

Because in 1996 the public’s conception of what a chupacabra looked like (and what it does, beyond the obvious caprine exsanguination described by its name) was in its infancy, the film’s monster resembles neither the original version seen in 1995 Puerto Rico (a bipedal, alien-looking, spikey-backed creature) nor the later (post-2000) canid versions (hairless dogs and coyotes) that came to dominate the imagery.

The film is also notable for—in what is perhaps the only other parallel to the film Species—clearly identifying the chupacabra as an extraterrestrial, and outer space as its origin. This reflects the real origin stories that circulated in Puerto Rico (and eventually throughout Latin America) following the chupacabra’s first appearance.  

I’ll examine other chupacabra-related films in future articles, so check back later. Until then, make sure your goats are secured!

You can find more on me and my work with a search for “Benjamin Radford” (not “Ben Radford”) on Vimeo, and please check out my podcast Squaring the Strange!