Tusk (2014)

Tusk is the kind of audacious, midnight-movie dare that feels like someone took a campfire story, a gross-out gag, and a genuine nightmare and braided them into one strangely watchable ride. Kevin Smith commits hard to the absurd premise, letting the humor curdle into dread in a way that’s both funny and unsettling, and the result is unpredictably alive from scene to scene. Michael Parks is the secret weapon—mesmerizing, theatrical, and just grounded enough to make the madness feel dangerous—while Justin Long sells the escalating panic with the timing of a comedian trapped in a horror film. It’s not for the squeamish or anyone who wants “safe” genre thrills, but if you’re in the mood for something imaginative, grotesque, and boldly weird, this one earns its cult reputation.

Tusk is Kevin Smith trying to mash up gross-out body horror with a pitch-black comedy about internet-era arrogance getting punished, and you can feel the ambition to be a cult oddity. The problem is the movie leans so hard on one outrageous idea that it starts to feel stretched thin, with pacing that drifts and shock scenes that can come off more “look what we can do” than genuinely scary or funny. If you’re squeamish, hate prolonged humiliation, or need a tight story with a clear payoff, this will likely feel self-indulgent and kind of pointless. The redeeming bit is Michael Parks’ committed, eerie performance and the sheer audacity of the premise—if you’re into midnight-movie weirdness and can stomach heavy gore, you might admire it more than you enjoy it.