BrainDead is Anything But

This summer something sinister quietly sneaked its way into the bedrooms and dens and offices of millions of Americans. No, it wasn't Donald Trump's spewed word-salad, nor was it Hillary Clinton's unabashed grandstanding. It also wasn't the Zika virus, although, perhaps it may have been. No, I'm referring to a short CBS television series that started airing in June and did not receive the attention of which it was exceptionally worthy.

Think about this: 2016 has been a feverish political year, in that you really can't avoid our country's latest Big Election and yet its effects seem to only be negative. In a lot of ways, Election 2016 could go down as one of the deadliest virus outbreaks in human history. Lie to yourself all you want, but the fact of the matter is that neither the Red guy nor the Blue gal is a good choice. At least back in '08 we had to decide between a young, bold, charming man of Color and an old White war veteran who wasn't doing that bad until he picked Oblivious Soccer Mom as his running mate. It was obvious America would soon have her first Black president, and this was - and still is - a huge deal. Eight years later we are on the verge of having our first democratically elected Madame President, and yet... well, nobody's really all that excited about it. Could be 'cause we're all still coming down from the high that came with electing a Black man into the oval office twice; not quite ready for another high just yet - one that would come from seeing the first female president. Or maybe it's because Hillary isn't really all that wonderful and it'd be nice if our first Madame President were someone who didn't have quite so many skeletons in her closet. But hey, it's all speculation at this point. Either way you look at it, the general populace has been treating the election like a farce - and can you blame 'em? We've got Let's-Spend-Billions-On-A-Wall versus Whoops-Where'd-Those-Emails-Go. Not one of these two blithering twits belongs in the oval office. This frustrates the average voter, because we only have two choices to choose between, right? (Well, no, there are third par--) And I mean, that's a real head-scratcher, ain't it? How do we pick between the only two candidates? (I mean, there are others, like Johnson or Stei---) Really just a difficult, frustrating process. Especially with allegedly unbiased television programs and news stations and websites displaying flagrant bias in some pathetic attempt to get us to swing a little further to the right or the left. No thank you. Maybe what America needs right now is something that takes this election - this joke of an election - and turns it into the satire it's already become. Something that attacks and mocks both parties. Something that shows us how imperfect every politician is. Something that does it in an honest, believable manner.

source: http://tenplay.com.au/channel-eleven/braindead

Enter BrainDead, wherein alien bugs from the furthest reaches of space crash onto earth and breach the ear canals of Washington DC politicians in order to eat away at half their brains and take them over entirely. Okay, so maybe that aspect isn't very believable, but believe me, the honesty is all there.

And so is the humor. To summarize BrainDead as a genre is a tad difficult. There's the obvious science fiction to it. There are heads exploding and a lot - I mean a lot - of blood and gore and bits of brain spattered on various office walls, so we can pretty much safely call it somewhat horror. And the humor is more than abundant, but efficiently so - it's brilliant really, and it never stops being so fucking dark. So I guess all in all BrainDead is a horror-comedy sci-fi political satire, but that's a bit of a mouthful. Regardless, that's what we're calling it, and we're all just going to have to live with that.

BrainDead is sheer brilliance. It's one of those shows that, as stated earlier, came into this world quietly and relatively unnoticed, and stayed that way, which is quite a shame all things considered. The pacing of every episode is absolutely flawless, succeeding in making the action scenes feel like action scenes, making the suspense as tense as possible, and never rushing a joke or a scene; even its occasional quick (and well-written) dialogue is relatively easy to keep up with. The show never treats its audience like idiots, the way so many sitcoms do today. Instead, it assumes you're hopefully up for the jabs your party is bound to get and it doesn't really care if you're insulted, because A) it's satire, and B) a lot of what they're saying is the unbiased, documented truth. Current political events are often referenced, typically mocking the opinions and perspectives of both sides of the argument; but some of the arguments made - again, from both sides - are legitimately substantial. So that might get a tad frustrating, but when an actress like Mary Elizabeth Winstead is taking the lead, it's difficult not to offer the show your full attention anyway.

source: http://zap2it.com/2016/06/braindead-mary-elizabeth-winstead-super-weird-summer-tv/

While Braindead is very character-driven and Winstead, though obviously great, is our main protagonist, it's mostly the characters around her - all of whom are either Democrats, Republicans, or politically-ambiguous colleagues of the bombshell lead - who steal the show. It doesn't matter with which political party you side, you're sure to love all of these outrageous characters as, while the bugs affect them in a manner that radicalizes the host's personal opinions, most of these people are hysterical caricatures of what the extremist Left and extremist Right look like. And you can't help but laugh. Honestly, if you can't chuckle at your own party's admitted flaws, you should consider taking down that "NO FUN ALLOWED" sign from your front porch and maybe smiling a little more often. Even though this might sound contradictory, if we can't make fun of ourselves nobody will ever be able to take us seriously. Levity breaks all boundaries, so long as all parties are willing not only to partake in the joke-making but the joke-taking as well. Take a look at Celebrity Roasts. Hell, maybe we should have Political Roasts. Except those would probably end in a nuclear civil war, so, on second thought...

source: http://www.vulture.com/tv/braindead/

Tony Shalhoub and Jan Maxwell play our kinda-sorta antagonists - the first significant victims of the alien invasion. They are, respectively, a Republican and a Democratic senator, and they nail their roles accordingly. Shalhoub is heartless, cold, war-mongering, and a raging alcoholic. Ella Pollack (Maxwell), meanwhile, is mostly levelheaded until the bugs take over her brain - at which point she becomes a rambling, easily-offended, irritable buffoon. For Red Wheatus (Shalhoub), the brain bugs escalate his inherently Conservative bigotry and prejudices, while significantly lowering his alcoholism (due solely to the fact that space bugs aren't fans of booze). All in all, though, the bugs have one plan - and that's to spread. Their hosts may have their political differences - now dangerously increased due to the bugs' very presence - but their goal remains the same, and so while they still do well playing enemies in public, their private lives are much more intimate... which, yes, implies weird space bug sex.

Laurel Healy (Winstead) is a young woman whose family has been involved in Liberal politics for as long as she can remember. But Laurel isn't so much into the family business, as she aspires to be a documentary filmmaker - and is tired of never finishing anything she sets out to do. Her brother Luke (Danny Pino), however, took up the family bizz and became a Democratic senator in DC, working under Ella. Needing money to fund her newest documentary venture, Laurel turns to her father who agrees to pay for half the funding so long as she spends half a year helping out her brother in DC. This, of course, is how she comes about being our protagonist - eventually finding out about the "bug problem" in DC. With the help of Rochelle (Nikki M. James) and Gustav (Johnny Ray Gill), Laurel uncovers the mystery behind recent head explosions seemingly involved with the appearance of these weird ant-like creatures. Once she notices an alarming number of people behaving strangely and listening to "You Might Think" by The Cars on repeat, all day, over and over, her initial investigation raises more questions and very little answers. And for the record, you probably won't be able to listen to "You Might Think" ever again without thinking of this quirky show.

source: https://twitter.com/braindeadcbs/status/765016924140900352

One of the best parts about BrainDead, besides its absurd 1980s horror-esque general plot, is the fact that everybody - every character, and there are so many - is portrayed as being flawed in more than one way. They are aggressively human, even those with bugs on the brain. Luke Healy, for example, is a Democratic senator who more than frequently cheats on his pregnant wife, going against nearly every principle for which he claims to stand. Then there's Gareth (Aaron Tveit), a Conservative staffer for Red Wheatus with whom Laurel gets romantically involved. Having been raised in a strict Conservative household, Gareth handles Laurel's sexual past the way a puerile infant might. The point is, nobody's really good. And that's a reality of life. The Conservatives, the Liberals - they're all portrayed exactly how they portray themselves in the reality of this extremely political year: hypocritical, petty, and self-absorbed. But it's not all depressing! A lot of these characters are human in the realistically positive sort of way as well: Laurel and Gareth manage to hit it off despite their vastly different political values. Because love beats the shit out of petty politics.

Yes, aside from having brains, BrainDead's got heart. There are plenty of emotional scenes, those of which I won't spoil as I've already probably given away too much. I promise you, though, this brief little blurb on BrainDead has spoiled nothing major, and I've made sure to edit out all the far-too-spoilery bits so that you may enjoy the show to its fullest extent.

And enjoy it you will. If you're the kind of person who can put your politics at the table for a couple hours and just laugh at both the angles of American politics, you will most definitely like what BrainDead has to offer. It is a completely original, brilliantly-written, bizarrely funny romp that actually takes time to make some good points and bring up a few lessons we could probably benefit from learning. However, I've yet to hear any word of the show on social media. Considering the show is genuinely good, I can only think that either A) it had poor marketing or B) people simply can't handle seeing their own political party mocked in a completely unbiased agenda-less satire. And, jeez man, I sure as hell hope it's not the latter.

Overall, my point is this: while the social media presence of BrainDead was scarce, I'm hoping it'll go the way of every Mike Judge movie - a few years down the line, much like Office Space and Idiocracy, people will rediscover BrainDead (or at least its possible later season(s)) and the show will suddenly become the cult classic it absolutely deserves to be.

The Perfect Host: Uncovering (and Defending) a Hidden Gem

     Every so often a movie comes and goes like a quiet, brief afternoon drizzle: most people aren't even aware of it, and those who are were mildly annoyed by its presence, which may have ruined their 2:00 walk in the park. In 2011 The Perfect Host had a limited theatrical run, and those who managed to take notice of it responded to the film in the same manner as somebody who found himself without an umbrella when rain suddenly fell during his 2:00 walk in the park. Critics didn't necessarily pan the flick, but they didn't rave about it, either. "Mixed to negative reviews" is the term we're looking for.
     Some of us like the rain, though, especially when it arrives in the form of a lovely afternoon drizzle. We welcome its presence with open arms, smiling up at the sky as tiny droplets of cool water drip drip drip upon our warm cheeks. I, for one, welcomed The Perfect Host, and am genuinely baffled as to why critics didn't like this terrific little romp.
     David Hyde Pierce plays Warwick, our perfect host - a man of somewhat wealthy status who's seemingly planning a dinner party for some friends when a stranger, John, stumbles into his abode. John, claiming to know Warwick, is actually an on-the-run fugitive who's just robbed a bank and needs a place to lay low. But that's not a problem for Warwick, because as fate would have it, the night's host is himself harboring a dark secret: he is a delusional, schizophrenic lunatic who's drugged John's wine way before he even learned of John's criminal background, proving that karma is, in fact, a bitch.
     John wakes up tied to a chair at the dinner table, which has been set with a number of platters despite the absence of guests - except that, at least in the twisted mind of Warwick, the kitchen is full of friends all gathered to enjoy the lovely evening. John, of course, is Warwick's guest of honor, and he'll have to endure a night of torment at the hands of his deranged host.

Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures

     The Perfect Host is as divine as Warwick's Los Angeles home and as twisted as his mind. While not strictly a horror film, it employs tons of thriller tropes with, naturally, a healthy helping of absurdist humor. You'll be strangely enamored with David Hyde Pierce's Warwick, who offers us charm, laughs, and terror all at once. The full three-course meal, if you will. He's like a more outgoing shade of Norman Bates; captivating and horrifying. John, meanwhile, is a character we initially despise but learn to cheer for, which can get a little difficult because the sadistic schadenfreude in all of us - that part of us that cheers on Jason Voorhees while pining for the individual beheadings of the obnoxious teenagers - really wants to root for Warwick. That's one of many things I like about The Perfect Host: the fact that both of the main characters are terrible but for totally different respective reasons, we can't really pick sides. We know it's probably not going to happen, but we'd like to see both of them triumph over the other. This cognitive dissonance aspect proves to be less frustrating than cognitive dissonance tends to be, because the movie is far too busy being endlessly entertaining for us to dwell on such trivialities. We're laughing at Warwick's ridiculous antics as he dances with people who aren't actually there and we're at the very least blowing air out of our nostrils at John's quick-witted passive aggressive responses to Warwick's weird behavior. Simultaneously, if you let it, the surreal milieu of the entire eerie evening enraptures you and never lets go.
     But no movie is without its flaws. To an extent, I can understand why some critics might not have loved The Perfect Host. For one, the movie doesn't really seem to know its own genre and fumbles between horror, drama, thriller, absurdist comedy, crime, and then some. Granted one could easily view this as a positive facet, as multi-genre films aren't uncommon, but it's not difficult to see how that might not have clicked with some viewers. Added to that, the subplot involving John's girlfriend is admittedly hamfisted and could've been fleshed out a tad more, or at least organized a bit better. After all, I described the situation as a "subplot" when in fact it's technically the core plot of the whole thing. The fact that it played out like a subplot definitely hindered its importance. Finally, there are two "twists" toward the end of The Perfect Host, and one of them is... well, it's very confusing. I use this phrase a lot, but the Fridge Logic is strong with this one. Obviously revealing the twist would be a massive spoiler, so if you've seen the flick and you're unsure what I'm referring to, it's the slit throat. You know what I'm talking about. Maybe I missed something, but it seemed to raise a lot of unanswered questions.
     Regardless of its imperfections, The Perfect Host did not deserve its poor critical response nor its lack of attention. The movie is flooded with originality, great performances, and one of the most satisfyingly grin-worthy endings I've ever seen. When a movie is as entertaining as this one is from start to finish, I fail to see how anybody couldn't at the very least enjoy it a smidgen. I wholeheartedly encourage you to find this hidden gem if you can, and hopefully you'll cherish it as much as I did.

Independence Day: Resurgence, or "A Movie So Bad It Took Me Over a Month to Adequately Review It and Even Then I Still Couldn't Adequately Review It"

     There are times, I must admit, when I say harsh things without thinking about the effect they might have. I tend to shoot before aiming, and more often than not I will miss and accidentally cut off the opponent's head when I barely even intended a wound. I tend to do this a lot when reviewing movies, especially.
     Recently I posted to Facebook a very concise review of Independence Day: Resurgence, which consisted entirely of the following: "No." The other day it occurred to me: that's not fair. The movie deserves something more in-depth. Sure, I didn't enjoy it, and sure, the first Independence Day was supremely superior, but as somebody who likes to write, I should have had more to say. I should have offered Independence Day: Resurgence more thoughts than a simple "no."
     Bearing this in mind, I opted to put together a list of pros and cons regarding the flick - a more basic type of review, but one that's also longer than a single word. Except, for this particular pro/con list, instead of "pro" it'll be "kinda," because there really are no pros when it comes to Independence Day: Resurgence, and instead of "con" it'll be "fuck no," because the word "con" is an extreme understatement. Here goes.


Kinda:

• Jeff Goldblum
• Jeff Goldbum's dad
• Data from Star Trek: The Next Generation
• DeObia Oparei and her name
• the big mama alien at the end
• the special effects 

Fuck No:

• the opening scene shows us the aliens literally watching footage from the movie Independence Day, implying that they exist both in a universe where Independence Day was just a movie and in the Independence Day in-movie universe, and no matter how you try to shake it, none of that makes any sense
• the Washington Monument has the names of all the victims of the War of 1996 engraved into it, because even with all the technological advancements humanity has utilized from the aliens, we apparently couldn't afford to build a separate memorial
• the obnoxious best friend of Thor's little brother is the worst character I have ever seen in a movie and he should have died ten minutes in
• Ann Veal not returning as President Pullman's daughter
• the surviving aliens are imprisoned, but they're still wearing the weaponized bio-mech suits that made them so dangerous to begin with. That's like locking up Ted Kaczynski with a book of matches and fifty-seven sticks of dynamite
• President Pullman's ridiculous disheveled look and weird high-pitched voice
• the lack of Will Smith
• the lack of a Randy Quaid force-ghost
• a whole slew of deus ex machina
• awkward pacing and editing
• the development of Vivica A. Fox's character is as empty and pointless as her death
• too many "motivational" speeches that never come close to holding a candle to Pullman's in the first Independence Day 
• a laundry list of impossible-to-keep-up-with side characters that are so shoehorned and unnecessary that I lack the capacity to give a single fuck about any of them
• Judd Hirsch inexplicably (though thankfully) surviving an onslaught of mile-high waves full of buildings and heavy debris on his little fuckin' tugboat 
• every vehicle manages to travel millions of miles in just a few minutes 
• fucking people in Africa wield alien technology but live in goddamn huts
• the goddamn alien mothership fucking somehow has its own gravity
• everything else
• oh, sweet merciful Christ
• don't do this to me
• take the wheel, Jesus
• take the fucking wheel
• oh God, why? 
• why have you forsaken me, God?
• what did we do to deserve this?
• are you even listening anymore?
• are you even there?
• were you ever there?

A Return and a Throwback

As I type this the digital clock at the right corner of the menu bar on the bottom of my laptop screen reads 12:53 a.m. (though I'm sure this won't be finished/published until well into the evening) which means that today is 18 July of the year 2016. That means that this blog hasn't been updated in well over a year. Well, why not, then? Did I lose my fingers? Was there a terrible accident? Have I run out of things to say? Respectively: no, kind of, and absolutely not. Over the past year-and-some-change I have had much to say about many of the many goings-on. For those of you just joining us in the middle of 2016, the past seven months have been quite eventful. There have been multiple mass shootings, killings, deaths, a slew of spilled blood, and two American presidential candidates who are both likely to disappoint an entire country, at the very least. But let's not get into that. What matters is I am back, here, right now, to talk about movies and stuff. I'm sure I'll go into yet another hibernation at some point in the near future, but for the time being, let's talk about Stranger Things.

This weekend Netflix released yet another first season of yet another promising new series, Stranger Things - a total throwback to 1980s science-fiction/horror/creature feature films. Imagine if Stephen King wrote E.T. and mashed it up with The Goonies and a little bit of X-Files (among other ingredients, such as Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Twin Peaks, Poltergeist, Monster Squad, Super 8, Firestarter, and more) with Steven Spielberg at the helm, J.J. Abrams producing, and John Carpenter doing the score, and you've got one healthy helping of Stranger Things. And yet even with all of the nods and references and blatant inspirations, Stranger Things still manages to be a compellingly original masterpiece.

That word may be thrown around far too often, but make no mistake about it: Stranger Things is, in fact, a masterpiece. Granted all of this is subjective. Many folks out there who dislike '80s nostalgia and just don't enjoy horror and science fiction are likely to ignore this series. And that's fine. Let 'em miss out. If it ain't for you, it ain't for you. But for those of us who this is clearly meant for, well, you're going to love it. That is a guarantee.

In a small town in Indiana, 1983, someone or something has kidnapped young Will Byers. The whole town comes together in search for the missing child, but nobody seems to be quite as affected as his best friends - a tight-knit group of D&D-playing, Tolkien-reading 12-year-old boys who come into contact with a mysterious little girl who just might hold the key to finding their lost pal. Equally disheartened are Will's mother and older brother, played by the talented Winona Ryder and Charlie Heaton respectively. As their search continues, something is very amiss, and a handful of the town's denizens find themselves caught in the midst of something inexplicable; shrouded in mysteries, parallel dimensions, government conspiracies, and not nearly enough Eggo waffles. Paranoia runs rampant while the hideous truth unfolds - in the form of a foul and deadly beast known to the children as "The Demogorgon" - and our youthful protagonists are soon caught up in a Stephen King-worthy series of supernatural events.

Child actors tend to be hit or miss in general. Either they really nail the performance or they create something cringeworthy that just feels like a horrible pre-teen actor doing a poor job acting like a normal pre-teen human being. The young actors in Stranger Things - all of whom are relatively new to the game - each bring with them, individually, something unique and refreshing and utterly fantastic. Their acting chops are superb. In the case of Millie Bobby Brown, who plays the basically-mute and endlessly fascinating Eleven, the acting isn't just great: it's on par with most seasoned adult actors. Many have compared Brown's role in Stranger Things to that of Natalie Portman in 1994's Leon: The Professional, and this is a fair comparison. Millie Brown takes center stage throughout, and if there's any justice in the world she'll be a household name in a few years. But while Brown certainly steals the show, her youthful peers shine for all eight episodes as well. They capture with awe-inspiring ease the look, behavior, and mentality of 1980-something 12-year-old kids just like the ones we know by name in aforementioned flicks like The Goonies, E.T., and Monster Squad. Their performances are so believable, in fact, that it's at times legitimately difficult to remember that these are kids from the early 21st century in lieu of the early 1980s. While the kids themselves do a wonderful job, the adult performers - including Winona Ryder, David Harbour, Natalia Dyer, and Charlie Heaton - bring much to the table, too. The chemistry among everybody involved is seamless, endearing, and, most importantly, convincing. Were it not for the fact that this is a television series and not a movie, I'd say most of the actors in Stranger Things would be worthy of, at the very least, a nod from the Academy.

But is Stranger Things really a TV show, in the commonly-accepted sense of the term? It can be argued that this first season is more of a ~7-hour movie, as it plays out in a binge-worthy manner and so many of its viewers have chosen to treat it as such. This format - the Netflix-binged single-sitting TV-show-season - seems to really be picking up these past few years, and films released on the silver screen lately tend to exceed the common length of 90-minutes, often clocking in at two-and-a-half hours with no break or intermission. Could this be the dawn of a new era of epic-length motion pictures? For cinephiles who leave the theatre feeling dissatisfied and underwhelmed, such a new fad in film wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. Anymore it feels as if a 90-minute runtime just doesn't cut it - we need more. We want more. And, considering we're perfectly okay with sitting through roughly seven hours of quality "television," it would seem as though we're perfectly content with having more.

And more we shall receive, as Netflix continues to dish out top-of-the-line original TV series that we love to shamelessly binge. A second season of the extraordinary Stranger Things is most likely to break through the Upside Down and find its way into our reality and, at the risk of being cliche, our hearts. Judging by the rave reviews this brand new '80s homage of terror and curiosity has been receiving, we'll be welcoming season two with open arms.

All eight episodes of Stranger Things are available on Netflix.

Tusk: What Horror Needs

Kevin Smith has found yet another niche, and this time it’s B-horror-comedy flicks.

The slacker master of the 1990s has never been one to censor himself, whether his array of Jersey-born characters are stink-palming Michael Rooker, discussing the disadvantages of going ass-to-mouth, or sucking 37 dicks (not necessarily in a row). But if you were to have told me during the blossoming years of the aughties that the same man responsible for Chasing Amy would turn the kid from Waiting… into a twisted, man-made walrus… actually, I probably would’ve believed it.

Kevin Smith is a force to be reckoned with. It doesn’t matter whether you dig his flicks or not, because he is always going to be here with something outrageous, be that a good or a bad thing. While 1990s Smith brought us raunchy slacker comedies and the early ’00s saw K-Smizzle going total meta, with the you-love-it-or-you-hate-it Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, 2014 shows us a darker, more disturbing side of the Clerks kid. And “you love it or you hate it” can be used to describe basically all of Kevin Smith’s films to date. He is an acquired taste, like a rich New Jersey craft beer. Any beer aficionado will know that craft beers either fly or they crash — there is rarely an in-between. That’s Smith for ya.

The horror film genre has been in desperate need of resuscitation for quite some time now, and most directors have chosen to bring horror back to life by incorporating a bit of humor and a lot of gore, and you know what? It’s working. Horror is breathing with a steady heartbeat once again. The past decade has seen movies like Slither, Shaun of the Dead, Drag Me to Hell, Trick r Treat, and The Cabin in the Woods, all of which were divine horror flicks with the perfect amount of humor mixed in (and the ideal dose of gore and blood and flesh and all of those disgusting things us horror fans so vehemently crave). Tusk shows us all of that and a little bit more.

Tusk has heart. Tusk has a soul. Tusk has wacky fucking insane characters, genuinely smart and witty dialogue, pure K-Smizzle-brand dick and fart jokes that are actually hilarious, and wonderful acting by a wonderful cast. Add this to the obvious horror elements and we are given an awesome nod to classic B-horror, with a script that doesn’t read nearly as awful as your average B-horror flick. And unlike most 1980s B-horror movies, Tusk gets pretty fucking emotional. It gets sad, man. It gets brutal. It’s a carnival of emotions. And it just might be an instant classic.

I know I’m throwing around all the typical buzz terms, like “instant classic” and “acquired taste” and the like, but so what? Modern horror needs more buzz. And all of these pathetic attempts at reviving horror via another exorcism/possession flick and Paranormal Activity 12 and a fucking Conjuring spinoff are half-assed at best and fatally embarrassing at worst. So many writers and directors are attempting to convince the general public to take horror seriously, but that’s not the point of horror. We’re fine with being ignored by the Academy. Or, at least, we should be. Instead of prancing about trying to make a horror film the old white dudes who control the Oscars will maybe offer a bored glance, horror directors need to go balls-out I-don’t-give-a-fuck, raunchy, dirty, gruesome, vomit-inducing, horrible, incredible, disturbingly awesome all while managing to thrill us, the horror fanatics, the people who love this shit, who eat this shit with our grimy hands and beg for seconds. We will pay to see your movie. We will talk about it for years. Entertain us and we will empty our wallets into your bare hands, eagerly purchasing the four-disc blu-ray collector’s edition and the entire line of action figures.

And that’s exactly what Kevin Smith has managed to do. He has given us an eerily sadistic film that sates our need for gore perfectly without going overboard, makes us laugh hysterically and cringe horrifically, and might even bring a tear to our eyes. Tusk is another small step for horror, for good horror and for bad horror, because, you see, that’s the thing about horror — sometimes it’s so goddamned bad that it’s good. And not “bad” in the way that the last twenty-something exorcism movies have been, but bad in a beautifully nostalgic way that takes us back to a time when horror was just pure fucking grotesque fun.

Like I said before… Tusk is that and a whole lot more. It’s a unique and exquisite film and a fabulous addition to the long list of horror cult classics. Thank you, Kevin Smith. Please give us more.