What the hell did I just see? A walrus rendition of the human centipede? A comedy? A fable? One of the scariest damn things ever!
In all my time watching movies, I cannot say that I have ever seen something quite like this nor have I had the ‘willies’ scared out of me this much. Tusk blends ethnographic comedy, horrifying visuals, economical characterization, and raw poignancy in a story that is simple yet tight and nearly perfect. This is far better than it has any right to be.
What makes Kevin Smith’s Tusk even odder is the story’s origin. During one instalment of his podcast, Smith and his co-host discussed a possible movie idea based on a peculiar news story they had read: a man was offering free rent so long as the tenant would dress up and act like a walrus for two hours a week. Smith asked his audience to tweet #Walrusyes if they wanted to see him make a movie with this premise or #Walrusno if they didn’t.
On the surface, the premise seems to be inspired by the infamous midnight horror flick, The Human Centipede. Where that flick artlessly unveiled its one twisted trick, however, this daring beast has more snarl than just some makeup and practical effects (although these are quite haunting). The build up allows for the natural suggestion of coming horrors in lengthy conversational scenes and brilliant transitional cuts that simultaneously draw the characters and our heebie-jeebies out.
Tusk is primarily exploitation filmmaking but, underneath all the gonzo evil, there is a message about how greed and power can erode a man’s soul and return it to its animalistic roots.
The protagonist, Wallace, is an American podcaster who travels around to interview internet sensations in order to embarrass them and profit from their misfortune. He gets what is coming to him when, in Manitoba, he accepts the offer of a weirdo letter which invites anyone to stay at an old man’s house free of charge, if they promise to listen to his grand stories of his past.
The ad is a ploy to draw in vulnerable travellers so that the creepy old man (Michael Parks) can surgically amputate their limbs and put them in a giant walrus suit. Meanwhile, Wallace’s girlfriend and co-host team up with a Quebecois police investigator to find him and the serial killer.
I’m sure you can imagine some of the haunting images that may never escape my mind’s eye, but even your wildest creations will fall short of the onscreen horrors. I literally shrieked at the sight. My friend had to quiet me down! The images are so haunting because they are carefully teased through close-ups and references to the old man’s profound anger.
Smith ignores squeaking doors and jump scares for a lingering dread that comes from his actors’ incredibly powerful performances and from his remarkable command over the film’s tone. Michael Parks is spectacular at holding our interest in lengthy dialogue scenes. He initially presents himself as a civil man, but because we can read Park’s performance, we see the exaggerated chivalry in his demeanour.
Horror comedies have nearly become synonymous with parodies, but Tusk takes its concept seriously, and the humour naturally arises from the absurdity of the situations or the quirks of the characters. The way this movie makes you laugh and shake in fear simultaneously is genius. #Walrusyes to one of the best movies of the year and one of the greatest midnight horror flicks I’ve ever seen.
