Why Yeti: A Love Story: Life on the Streets 2017 is Still the Weirdest Thing on Your Watchlist

Why Yeti: A Love Story: Life on the Streets 2017 is Still the Weirdest Thing on Your Watchlist

If you’ve spent any significant time digging through the bargain bins of digital streaming or the dark corners of indie horror festivals, you’ve likely stumbled upon something that defies logic. I’m talking about Yeti: A Love Story: Life on the Streets 2017. It’s a title that sounds like a fever dream. Honestly, it kind of is.

Directed by Adam de la Cour and Jim Hickey, this sequel to the original 2006 cult hit Yeti: A Love Story doesn't just double down on the absurdity; it leaps off a cliff into a ravine of pure, unadulterated "What did I just watch?" It's a musical. It's a horror movie. It's a social satire. Mostly, it’s a puppet-filled odyssey through a grime-covered version of London that feels less like a city and more like a stage for the surreal.

The Absolute Chaos of Yeti: A Love Story: Life on the Streets 2017

People usually expect a specific thing when they hear the word "Yeti." They think of the Himalayas. They think of a hulking, terrifying beast. They think of The Abominable Snowman.

This movie gives you none of that.

Instead, we find our protagonist, the Yeti, living a life of utter desperation on the streets of London. He’s not a monster in the traditional sense; he’s a victim of circumstance, a hairy outcast trying to find a spark of humanity in a world that mostly wants to exploit or ignore him. The plot follows the Yeti as he navigates a landscape populated by corrupt officials, bizarre cultists, and a general public that is surprisingly unfazed by a six-foot-tall cryptid wandering around in a coat.

The 2017 release date is actually quite interesting. It arrived during a specific moment in indie filmmaking where the "so bad it's good" aesthetic was being replaced by "intentionally weird and technically proficient." Unlike many low-budget horror comedies that rely on bad acting to get a laugh, the team behind this project clearly knew exactly what they were doing. The songs are catchy in a way that feels dangerous. The puppetry is visceral. It’s gross, sure, but it’s high-effort gross.

Why the Cult Following Actually Makes Sense

You might wonder who this movie is for. Honestly, it’s for the people who think The Rocky Horror Picture Show is a bit too mainstream. Yeti: A Love Story: Life on the Streets 2017 thrives on its status as an outsider piece of media.

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The film leans heavily into its musical theater roots. It’s not just a movie with songs; it’s a full-blown rock opera of the absurd. The lyrics tackle everything from the mundanity of homelessness to the complexities of inter-species romance. It’s weirdly ambitious. While a lot of modern "B-movies" try too hard to be the next Sharknado, this one feels like it has a soul, even if that soul is slightly dampened by the smell of wet fur and London rain.

The production was a labor of love that spanned years. You can see the grime on the puppets. You can feel the cold in the outdoor shots. This isn't CGI-slop. It’s physical. It’s tactile. In an era where everything is smoothed over by digital filters, there’s something genuinely refreshing about seeing a puppet that looks like it was stitched together in a basement by someone who had clearly seen too much.

The London Backdrop

London plays a character here. Not the "Big Ben and red buses" London, but the London of back alleys, damp brick, and flickering streetlights. By setting the story in this environment, the directors created a contrast that highlights the Yeti’s isolation. He’s a creature of nature stuck in a concrete cage.

It’s social commentary, kinda. If you squint.

There’s a scene where the Yeti interacts with the local populace that serves as a biting indictment of urban apathy. Nobody cares that there’s a Yeti. They have bills to pay. They have commutes. The Yeti is just another person—or thing—on the street to be stepped over. That’s the real horror of the film, tucked neatly behind the songs about body parts and the occasional explosion of gore.

The Technical Reality of Low-Budget Brilliance

Let’s talk about the craftsmanship. Most people dismiss movies like this as "trash," but that's a mistake. From a technical standpoint, managing a musical with puppet leads on a shoestring budget is a nightmare.

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  • Puppetry Dynamics: The Yeti puppet isn't just a suit; it has a range of expressions that allow for actual "acting."
  • Audio Engineering: The soundtrack had to be mixed for both clarity and the chaotic energy of the scenes, which is harder than it looks when you're filming in uncontrolled environments.
  • The Script: It’s snappy. It doesn't overstay its welcome, despite the sprawling title.

The film relies on a "DIY" aesthetic that was popularized by Troma Entertainment, but it has a distinctly British cynicism. It’s darker than its American counterparts. There’s a lingering sense of gloom that makes the comedic beats land harder because they feel like a temporary reprieve from a generally miserable existence.

Finding the Movie Today

Finding a copy of Yeti: A Love Story: Life on the Streets 2017 can be a bit of a scavenger hunt. It made its rounds on the festival circuit—winning the "Best Film" award at the 2017 TromaDance Film Festival—and eventually landed on various VOD platforms and limited physical releases.

If you’re looking for it, you’ll likely find it on platforms that specialize in cult or extreme cinema. It’s not the kind of thing that shows up in the "Trending" section of Netflix. And that’s probably for the best. It’s a movie that needs to be discovered, like a weird artifact in an antique shop.

It’s also worth noting the cast. You have appearances by cult icons like Lloyd Kaufman, the co-founder of Troma. His presence acts as a seal of approval for fans of the genre. If Kaufman is involved, you know you’re in for something that challenges the boundaries of good taste.

The Musical Element

The songs are the real standout. Unlike many "horror musicals" that use the music as a gimmick, the songs here actually drive the narrative. They provide the internal monologue for a character who doesn't speak in the traditional sense. It’s a clever workaround for the "silent protagonist" trope.

One particular track, which I won't spoil the lyrics of, basically sums up the entire ethos of the film: it’s about the search for belonging in a world that finds you repulsive. It’s heart-wrenching. It’s also hilarious. That tonal whiplash is exactly why the film has survived in the cultural consciousness of the underground scene for years.

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How to Approach This Movie

If you’re going to watch it, go in with an open mind. Don’t expect a polished Hollywood production. Expect something that feels like it was made by people who love movies more than they love money.

  1. Watch the original first: It helps set the tone, though it's not strictly necessary.
  2. Invite friends: This is a social experience. You need someone to look at and say, "Did that really just happen?"
  3. Check your expectations: It’s gross. It’s loud. It’s proud of its flaws.

The legacy of Yeti: A Love Story: Life on the Streets 2017 isn't about box office numbers. It’s about the fact that something this weird exists at all. It’s a testament to the power of independent filmmaking and the enduring appeal of the "outsider."

In a world of sanitized sequels and corporate-mandated franchises, we need more movies that are willing to be messy. We need more movies about singing yetis on the streets of London.

Actionable Next Steps

If you’re a fan of cult cinema or just curious about this specific era of indie film, here is how you can actually engage with this piece of history:

  • Search Digital Libraries: Check platforms like Tubi or Screambox, which often host Troma-adjacent titles and cult classics from the late 2010s.
  • Look for the Soundtrack: The music stands on its own. Searching for Adam de la Cour’s compositions will give you a deeper appreciation for the technical skill involved.
  • Explore TromaDance Archives: Investigating the winners of the TromaDance festivals around 2017 will lead you to other "sister" films that share this same DNA of chaotic, creative energy.
  • Support Physical Media: If you can find a Blu-ray or DVD, grab it. These kinds of niche films often disappear from streaming services due to licensing shifts, and physical copies are the only way to ensure the history isn't lost.

Whether you love it or find it absolutely baffling, there’s no denying that this film is a singular achievement in the world of independent horror-musicals. It’s a weird, hairy slice of 2017 that refuses to be forgotten.