Isaacs Picture Conclusions

SHITFEST 2014: WINTER ~ TUSK (2014)

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BY:

HTTHV

TUSK1

Tusk (unreleased)

While thinking of a movie to review for Shitfest: Winter I was hit by a stroke of fantastic luck: I was invited to a sneak preview of the latest horrible Kevin Smith film! If there’s better material for a Shitfest movie than the movies Kevin Smith literally shits out onto a reel of film then wipes his cratered ass with that stupid orange and blue hockey jersey he wears then wears it the rest of the week because why not he couldn’t smell any worse, then I don’t know about it.

If you don’t already know the story of Tusk, Smith got the idea for it from a hoax news story about a lonely man (Mr. Howe) who spent months at sea with only a walrus to keep him company and was now looking for a roommate who could live in his mansion free of charge if they dressed up as a walrus once a day (Tusk). The story itself is just dumb, so let’s make a feature-length movie out of it! Smith takes that tale a step further and makes it a ripoff of The Human Centipede, with Mr. Howe sewing his new roommate into a walrus costume. I was expecting nothing but the worst movie ever made when I saw this sneak preview, and my expectations were met like a putting my dong on the train tracks and the 4:15 comes by right on time. Filming on this movie took less than three weeks, and the quality of that shines through like the light through a stained -glass window made out of corpse teeth. I don’t want to spoil anything, and I signed a nondisclosure agreement on an old cheeseburger wrapper, so I won’t go into details and give away key developments. Suffice it to say, avoid this movie at all costs when it comes out, and maybe we’ll be able to stop Kevin Smith’s irrational ego once and for all. But for the morbidly curious, the following are some of the more memorable scenes in the movie. Hopefully it doesn’t give too much away. You may notice a few familiarities:

Tusk Kevin Smith

MR. HOWE: “Tusk, what do you think of those movies, Stars War? Buncha nonsense, if ya ask me, what with all the robots and Wookwoks and forces. No one forces me to do anything, Tusk. But I liked how Greedo shot first. It really showed how Han was cowardly, running from Jabba like that. Now the first three movies were bad, but I think they really got good with those prequels, Tusk. That was some quality filmmaking.”

A SINGLE TEAR ROLLS DOWN TUSK’S CHEEK, AND DOWN HIS TUSK

MR. HOWE (WATCHING DIE HARD 2): “You know who I like, Tusk? Film critics. They’re never afraid to speak their minds, and will really give a bad movie what-for. And that Bruce Willis is a delight!”

A SINGLE TEAR ROLLS DOWN TUSK’S CHEEK, AND DOWN HIS TUSK

Tusk Michael Parks

MR. HOWE: “I just don’t like hockey, Tusk. Too cold, both physically and emotionally. I will no longer allow you to wear that oversized, orange and blue hockey jersey, Tusk.”

A SINGLE TEAR ROLLS DOWN TUSK’S CHEEK, AND DOWN HIS TUSK

MR. HOWE DECIDES TO TAKE A VACATION WITH TUSK. UNFORTUNATELY, BECAUSE HE IS NOW A WALRUS, TUSK IS TOO LARGE TO FIT IN THE AIRPLANE SEATS, AND HAS BEEN ASKED TO DISEMBARK.

MR. HOWE: “This is the god damn airline’s fault, not yours, Tusk!”

A SINGLE TEAR ROLLS DOWN TUSK’S CHEEK, AND DOWN HIS TUSK

Tusk Justin Long

MR. HOWE AND TUSK ARE CAUGHT IN AN ACCIDENTAL LAB FIRE AND HAVE ONLY MOMENTS TO ESCAPE BEFORE THE HOUSE EXPLODES

MR. HOWE: “You’re right, Tusk, we need to go. You’ve always been right about everything, Tusk. You know, I’ve never said this to you directly, Tusk, but over these past weeks you’ve fulfilled me emotionally, Tusk. I love you, Tusk. And not, not in a friendly way, although I think we’re great friends, Tusk. And not in a misplaced affection, puppy-dog way, Tusk, although I’m sure that’s what you’ll call it. I love you, Tusk. Very, very simple, very truly. You are the epitome of everything I have ever looked for in another human being, Tusk. And I know that you think of me as just a friend, and crossing that line is the furthest thing from an option you would ever consider, Tusk. But I had to say it, Tusk. I just, I can’t take this anymore. I can’t stand next to you without wanting to hold you, Tusk. I can’t look into your eyes without feeling that longing you only read about in trashy romance novels, Tusk. I can’t talk to you without wanting to express my love for everything you are, Tusk. And I know this will probably queer our friendship – no pun intended, Tusk – but I had to say it, ’cause I’ve never felt this way before, and I don’t care, Tusk. I like who I am because of it. And if bringing this to light means we can’t hang out anymore, then that hurts me, Tusk. But God, I just, I couldn’t allow another day to go by without just getting it out there, regardless of the outcome, which by the look on your face is to be the inevitable shoot-down, Tusk. And, you know, I’ll accept that. But I know, I know that some part of you is hesitating for a moment, and if there’s a moment of hesitation, then that means you feel something too, Tusk. And all I ask, please, is that you just – you just not dismiss that, and try to dwell in it for just ten seconds, Tusk. Tusk, there isn’t another soul on this fucking planet who has ever made me half the person I am when I’m with you, and I would risk this friendship for the chance to take it to the next plateau. Because it is there between you and me, Tusk. You can’t deny that. Even if, you know, even if we never talk again after tonight, please know that I am forever changed because of who you are and what you’ve meant to me, which – while I do appreciate it – I’d never need a painting of birds bought at a diner to remind me of, Tusk. You know, I didn’t just heed what I was taught, men and walruses should be together, it’s the natural way, that kind of thing, Tusk. I’m not with you because of what family, society, life tried to instill in me from day one. The way the world is, how seldom it is that you meet that one person who just *gets* you – it’s so rare, Tusk. My parents didn’t really have it. There were no examples set for me in the world of male-walrus relationships. And to cut oneself off from finding that person, to immediately halve your options by eliminating the possibility of finding that one person within your own species, that just seemed stupid to me, Tusk. So I didn’t. But then you came along. You, the one least likely. I mean, you were a walrus, Tusk. And while I was falling for you I put a ceiling on that, because you *were* a walrus. Until I remembered why I opened the door to non-walruses in the first place: to not limit the likelihood of finding that one person who’d complement me so completely, Tusk. So here we are. I was thorough when I looked for you, Tusk. And I feel justified lying in your arms, ’cause I got here on my own terms, and I have no question there was some place I didn’t look, Tusk. And for me that makes all the difference, Tusk. That poem, ‘The Walrus and the Carpenter,’ that’s an indictment of organized religion, Tusk. The walrus, with his girth and his good nature, he obviously represents either Buddha, or, or with his tusks, the Hindu elephant god, Lord Ganesha. That takes care of your Eastern religions, Tusk. Now the carpenter, which is an obvious reference to Jesus Christ, who was raised a carpenter’s son, he represents the Western religions. Now in the poem, what do they do? What do they do? They, they dupe all these oysters into following them and then proceed to shuck and devour the helpless creatures en masse, Tusk. I don’t know what that says to you, but to me it says that following these faiths based on mythological figures ensures the destruction of one’s inner being, Tusk. Organized religion destroys who we are by inhibiting our actions, by inhibiting our decisions out of, out of fear of some, some intangible parent figure who, who shakes a finger at us from thousands of years ago and says, and says, ‘Do it… do it and I’ll fuckin’ spank you.’ And, because of you, Tusk, I realize Greedo did not shoot first.”

TUSK SMILES. A SINGLE TEAR ROLLS DOWN TUSK’S CHEEK, AND DOWN HIS TUSK. A TEAR OF HAPPINESS. THEN, THE HOUSE BLOWS UP AND THEY DIE.

THE END

Tusk 1

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Not a weekend reader?? Be sure to check out a handful of beautiful, shittastic posts we were able to poop out over the weekend! You won’t be disappointed! There’s violence and intrigue and mutants and pilgrims and Disney fucking princesses!!

45 comments

  1. For the beautiful, emotional man-walrus dialogue alone, I may have to see this one.

    …Kidding. Very, very funny, Brian. I’m sorry you had to sit through this, but at least it inspired a fantastic Shitfest entry. And Eric–NOT MUCH, YOU???

    Like

  2. Tom

    Jesus titty Christ. this sounds like the worst thing ever. hahaha.

    Also, not to steal Brian’s thunder here or anything, but the banner image you have up there Eric is probably the best thing ever.

    Like

  3. This sounds worse than that stupid, lame, boring-ass comic-book show they kept trying to ram down our throat during last year’s season of The Walking Dead, (and I like comics!) The house should have blown up at the very begining of Tusk to spare us all from having to sit through this! For the 1st time in 50 years they allowed open hunting season on Walrus in Alaska, and I think it’s because of this movie!

    Like

  4. Pingback: Today’s Headlines presented by R.O.T.O.R.! 4-14-2014 | Hard Ticket to Home Video

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