Do you compare this to the subject in the Patterson film?
Marx was seen buying furs; presumably he made the suit, or he and his wife did.
Not all the photos are Marx' but here's a review of his "documentary":
http://www.bijoucafe.com/goods/bijou_store1vcd_L.htm
(Check out what happens when you click on the photos.)
"Back in Vancouver Rene kept his finger on the Bossburg pulse through regular telephone contact with Ivan Marx. And it seemed that every time he called, Marx had found something; a handprint here, a footprint there, signs of an unusually heavy creature bedding down in the bush; always something to keep the trail warm.
Marx phoned him one evening that October (1970) and said, "I've got a film of the cripple." The hows and wherefores of the filming were reported in the Colville Statesman Examiner under the byline of Denny Striker, late of the Metlow pursuit:
On the night of Oct. 6 an unidentified person called the Marx home, leaving a vague message that either a car or a train had struck a large upright creature on the highway about seven miles north of Bossburg. Marx was away at the time but when he received the message ... he left immediately for the area with a hunting dog he hoped would follow the spoor of the Sasquatch, if indeed that was what it actually was.
Marx was armed with nothing more than a Bolex 16mm movie camera with a 17mm lense, a 35 mm Nikon and a two-way radio with which he had contact with rancher Don Byington, who was in the area by the time Marx's dog had located the creature.
The day was heavily overcast with smoke ... when Marx jumped the creature in the bottom of a dense draw and began filming. The initial footage shows a large black upright figure moving stealthily but rapidly through the dense growth, but only in silhouette.
Marx pressed the pursuit with his hound, forcing the Sasquatch into a clearing where, with his movie camera set at f2.8 he took the remarkably clear footage of an impressive looking creature. On the screen the Sasquatch is shown moving from right to left at an angle of about forty-five degrees away from the photographer. Distance from the subject according to Marx ranged from twenty-five feet to more than a hundred feet as it made its way into the heavy underbrush on the far side of the clearing.
Probably the most impressive part of the film, besides its extreme clarity, is the fact that the Sasquatch is visibly injured, holding its right arm tightly to its chest and using its long muscular left arm for compensating balance. Also, both ankles of the creature seem badly skinned, the wounds showing plainly raw against the black hair of the legs and feet.
In watching the frames singly, the injured or skinned area appears to extend onto the bottom of one foot, and possibly on both feet, which would account for the apparent pain-filled movements of the frightened creature. As the Sasquatch is nearing the far side of the clearing, a twisted tree limb is stepped on, bouncing up and striking it above knee level. Marx, the following day, photographed this stick, which was ten feet long. In comparison the creature photographed would have stood about nine feet tall and Marx estimated its weight as that of two large bears, or around seven to eight hundred pounds.
The only thing the film is lacking is a facial feature on the creature. Twice while crossing the clearing the Sasquatch turned its head to glare at Marx. The first time it turned 180 degrees and uttered a weird scream, which was heard by Byington, positioned on a ridge nearby. The second time it turned a full 360 degrees, appearing quite confused, but the lack of light prevented any facial features from showing plainly ....
Marx said he continued pursuit of the creature until darkness prevented further advance, and when the trail was recovered the following day, it led through a maze of rugged terrain and finally to a body of water where it was lost. He feels the Sasquatch is very old and apparently hurt quite badly.
Striker finished the story with a statement from René who had arrived in Bossburg: "Ivan has a movie and that leaves only two choices. Either it is real or it is not. That's what I'm here to find out."
The story had been released to the wire services and the second siege of Bossburg was under way. Dickie Davis was right back in the fray, tossing offers around for the film, author Ivan Sanderson phoned on behalf of Argosy Magazine, and the usual crowd of Sasquatch devotees was there.
Tom Page flew in dangling before Marx a cheque for $25,000, for the film or a copy of it. He made the proposition possibly out of desperation, in light of his earlier experiences at Bossburg-that Marx could have the cheque if he would confirm or deny the authenticity of the film. Whether he would have honored the offer if Marx had said the film was faked is a moot but nonetheless intriguing question. The fact that Marx declined that offer should have loaned immediately to the film at least a touch of uncertainty.
Most of the hunters were saying for publication that Marx had the genuine article. René conceded reluctantly that such might be the case, more from a desire to believe Marx's wife, whom he respected and liked and who was confirming her husband's story, than from conviction. John Green arrived and wasted no time in declaring the film authentic. He offered Marx eight hundred dollars for a copy, of which action Rene reflects dryly, "I guess he wanted two Sasquatch films." (The other one being the Patterson film.) Green was moved to write a tribute to Marx for the pages of the Bigfoot Bulletin, a mimeographed publication sent out intermittently from a base in Oakland, California. Part of it read: "I am satisfied...that he could not have faked all he has to show, and that the film is genuine."
Don Byington, the rancher who had been within walkie-talkie distance of Marx when the film was shot, had two young children, and these youngsters, from the time the film was first shown, were heard to murmur that they knew well the location of the filming (Marx had kept the spot secret). No one paid them any heed. The film stayed in limbo and the winter marched on. Still Marx had taken no offer for his film, had released no part of it for publication in any medium.
Then on the scene came Peter Byrne, a British adventurer and hunter who had been part of the Tom Slick sponsored expeditions in the Himalayas and in northern California. Byrne still had a source of financing and he and Marx came to an arrangement: Marx would be paid a monthly retainer as a Sasquatch hunter of $750, and his film would be placed in a bank safety-deposit box as security. This arrangement carried through to the spring of 1971, Marx being comfortably subsidized to pursue his hunting while at the same time having to make no commitments about the film. But Peter Byrne was considerably less gullible than might have seemed. The Byington children kept harping, as kids will, about how they knew exactly where the film had been shot, and Byrne listened to them. The children led the hunters to a spot at the back of the Byington property immediately recognizable as the film site.
In the film the creature brushes its head against a tree limb. The limb was located and was found to be less than six feet from the ground, shaking Marx's estimate of nine feet for the creature's height. And a comparative film indicated that certain features on the Marx film could not have appeared as they did if he had filmed from the spot he said he had filmed from and with the equipment he said he had used. It was then established, through Peter Byrne's persistent probing, that Marx's camera on the day of the filming was equipped with a telephoto lense and not, as he had said, a regular one. And finally it was discovered that shortly before the film was taken Marx had been buying a considerable quantity of fur pieces in Spokane. The case fell apart, Marx by this time having left the area. The unkindest cut came for Peter Byrne when he went to the bank to inspect his security and found only a roll of black, exposed celluloid.
Later Marx claimed to the others that he had taken and passed a lie detector test over the incident and had passed it, but no one ever knew where or when this had occurred. René's response to the claim is a cryptic: "I'm sure he could take one any time and pass it with flying colors."
There was a sequel to Marx's fling at cinematography in the fall of 1972. On Saturday Oct. 21 he appeared on "You Asked For It," a U.S. television show that pursues odd and interesting items at the request of its entranced audience. This time Marx was both the requestee and one of the subjects. He appeared with the show's host, clutching a sealed can of movie film of a creature he said he had photographed during a snow storm in northern California. Marx's never-ending search for the truth had once more culminated in his seeing a Sasquatch, this time a white one. He had followed it through the deepening snow until he realized he could predict its route and, as he quaintly put it, "head it off at the pass." This he did, having enough time to set up his camera, tripod and all, before the thing lurched into view. The TV host then explained that Marx had brought the film straight from the camera, unprocessed, and that the show's producer would print the film under the strictest of supervision and would then examine it. Following a commercial break we were flashed ahead in time to where the film had been processed, and we saw the subject. It was marvelously clear, and outrageous. A primate expert whom the TV people had co-opted for an opinion said it best: "I think it's a man in a beast's suit." It certainly was someone in a beast's suit. Great folds of the suit swung around like an old army blanket amid the California snows as the thing cavorted before the camera, now running comically towards it, now turning about and gallivanting off through the drifts, flipping its clumsy feet backwards and sideways as one does when running through deep snow in an overcoat. It seemed almost to be chuckling as it went. Whether Marx was the perpetrator or the victim of a hoax in this case will likely remain unanswered. But there was little doubt that what we were watching was a snow job in a blizzard.
So the crippled footprints of 1969 had set in motion a chain of events that went full circle and arrived at nothing, while the prints themselves were, for the time being, virtually forgotten. The events had undoubtedly placed under a cloud the search for the Sasquatch and those few who, like René, remained seriously and honestly devoted to it."
http://www.bigfootencounters.com/articles/bossburg.htm
