Tusk made its way through my friend circle in college like the ghost STD in It Follows. My film friends were obsessed with it. My theater friends lauded its performances. And my dance friends were horrified. The funny thing is, it wasn’t just my friend group. Something about Tusk struck a chord with horror fans across the globe. It became the film to talk about. But…why? What was it about this joke-turned-real film that had people so entertained? Watching Tusk in 2026 was nothing more than 101 minutes of “oh right” and scrunched-faced “huhs”.

Podcasters, Internet Cruelty, and Body Horror in Tusk

Wallace Bryton (Justin Long) is a shock-jock podcaster who, along with his cohost Teddy Craft (Haley Joel Osment), takes the kicks out of the odd side of the internet. But, instead of doing so in good humor, he does so out of malice. After reacting to a video of someone called Kill Bill Kid (Douglas Banks), who cuts his leg off with his own sword, Wallace decides to head up to Canada to interview him. All of this internet infamy ruined Kill Bill Kid’s life, and he turns it around on Wallace by taking his own. Stuck in Canada without an interview, Wallace reads a room-for-rent poster from Howard Howe (Michael Parks). Boasting world-reaching stories to tell, Wallace takes Howard up on his proposal to talk…only it just may be the last thing Wallace ever talks about.

Written and directed by NJ native Kevin Smith, Tusk is a very hard-to-watch film that feels stuck in an era that’s long gone. The passion and energy are there, but something about this film in 2026 feels off. I wish I could say that Wallace’s character was a caricature, but we’ve all seen way too many right-wing chuds with podcasts/careers doing exactly what he does in Tusk: punching down to make himself feel better. So, what are my actual critiques?

Justin Long’s Performance in Tusk

At the time I originally watched Tusk, I was awestruck. At this point, Justin Long made his way into the minds of filmgoers as a sort of boy next door. His performances in Dodgeball, Herbie: Fully Loaded, Waiting…, Accepted, Strange Wilderness, and Movie 43 had audiences viewing him in a comedic light, no matter how hard he tried to form a varied career. It wouldn’t be until Barbarian that larger audiences, and our genre, would truly accept him as a horror icon. One of the few good things I can say about Tusk is that Justin Long gives one hell of a performance (though that doesn’t mean it’s a great performance).

Michael Parks is the standout in Tusk; he makes this film worth its bloated runtime. Parks’ monologues have him chewing up the scenery like a walrus with a fish; blood, guts, and sinew everywhere. He has a natural charisma that few actors have. No matter what you think you know about his character, you’re wrong. Part of this is definitely due to Kevin Smith’s screenplay…but that’s the only real nod I can give to Smith’s writing.

Why Tusk Lacks the Magic of Clerks

Tusk is an overwritten, underdelivered movie in nearly every aspect. It’s hard to blame Kevin Smith for the film’s writing because much of this really circles back to Clerks. He made his name with mumblecore magic. Clerks was an amazing film because of what it was. Unfortunately, that magic doesn’t carry through with Tusk.

Many people are aware that Tusk was spawned from an idea Smith and his SModcast producer, Scott Mosier, had while recording an ad. I think this may have been best left as an idea. The reveal of what Howard plans to do with Wallace fell flat upon my rewatch. Obviously, Howard is going to be a bad man. Obviously, he plans on doing something nefarious. And, upon rewatching, when it finally happened…I didn’t care. Wallace’s suit looks terrible. The surgery scene is plainly shot. And I just didn’t care what happened to Wallace at that point.

Pacing Problems and the Johnny Depp Problem

That’s not even mentioning the film’s hardcore pacing issues. Going back and forth between Wallace and Howard, to Teddy and his (potentially ex) girlfriend Ally (Genesis Rodriguez), and the absolutely terrible Guy LaPointe (Johnny Depp) takes this film from a tight, well-paced horror flick to a weird, boring, unfunny suspense “comedy”. God. Every time Guy LaPointe was on screen, I couldn’t help but cringe at Depp’s seriously try-hard performance full of awfully written, way too tongue-in-cheek monologues.

The more I think about Tusk, the less I like it. What was it that struck a sophomore-in-film-school me to like this film so much? Maybe it was seeing Justin Long step out of the box that so many had made for him. Maybe it was that we hadn’t seen many (if any) podcaster-based horror films yet. Or, maybe my love for Clerks and Dogma overtook the MANY flaws in this hollow pit of a film. But hey, it’s still better than Yoga Hosers.

Audition is one of the most notorious 1990s horror movies that I had yet to catch up with. While it might be shameful that it took me this long, my delay allowed me an opportunity. I can approach it with an advantage that English speakers lacked during the years it was building up cult status. Namely, I have read the 1997 Murakami Ryū novel it is based on, which wasn’t published in English until 2009.

For those not in the know, the slow-burn Japanese horror film follows lonely widower Aoyama Shigeharu (Ishibashi Ryô). Seven years after his wife’s death, he decides he should find a replacement. With the encouragement of a friend in the media industry, he holds an audition for a faux film. Among those vying to play a character modeled after Aoyama’s ideal wife is Yamazaki Asami (Shiina Eihi). Aoyama is instantly smitten with Asami, to the point of ignoring the many red flags and inconsistencies in her backstory. Long story short: This does not go well for him.

How Does Audition Compare to the Book?

First things first: Audition is better than the book. The texts share a similar structure, but director Miike Takashi imbues the cold and dry novel with more spirit. His visual and editorial sensibility is entirely beyond reproach and frequently downright gorgeous. Every element of the movie’s construction serves the story’s slow, inexorable slide into madness.

There is a certain off-kilter vibe throughout, partially thanks to a prime selection of unusual camera angles. Nevertheless, there is always a sense that things are getting worse and worse. The color scheme and cutting rhythm especially keep incrementally escalating until Audition hits its explosive finale. It’s an extraordinarily patient film, engrossing you with its plot and characters while slowly lowering you into boiling water. By the time things get extreme, it’s too late: you’re already locked in.

Some Narrative Elements in Audition Can Be Frustrating

While Audition is a gorgeous, impeccably mounted work, the one way it fails the novel is by lacking its straightforwardness. The book is hardly a great work of feminist literature, but the movie doesn’t evoke its themes quite as clearly.

Its ideas about how men and women treat one another are sometimes delivered with bracing clarity. I’m particularly partial to the way that the movie depicts the gaze. Almost never does Audition present a close-up image of what Aoyama and Asami are looking at. Instead, the camera focuses almost entirely on whoever is doing the looking, for a downright uncomfortable amount of time. This is an exhilarating visual way to explore the power dynamics between the two characters.

However, the movie muddles the story a little too much to present a coherent angle on what’s going on. It is possible (even probable) that I am being hopelessly Western by raising this issue. However, there’s a roughly 15-minute dream sequence that precedes Audition’s violent finale, and I found it to be film-breakingly flawed. The sequence, which is presented as Aoyama’s drugged-out hallucination, delivers too much load-bearing narrative content for its own good. It answers many mysteries about Asami’s backstory in a manner that’s too roundabout and unclear. Has Aoyama somehow psychically tapped into Asami’s point of view? Is his dreaming mind making this all up?

I can see why this lack of distinction can serve as a metaphor. Men objectify women, they see what they want to see, and so on. However, the finale lacks heft because our understanding of Asami lies almost entirely in the realm of imagination and possibility. Why not place a little more of that backstory into Aoyama’s real-life investigations of her past? This would allow her to remain mysterious while offering some helpful glimpses into her potential motives.

Instead, the whole thing ultimately feels kind of hollow and pointless to me. Plus, the dream sequence telegraphs a few great moments from the following 20 minutes, robbing them of their shock value. Also, it murders the pacing. This long stretch of tonal noodling comes precisely when you think the movie’s about to shoot into the stratosphere. I found it to be a real bummer, all around.

Is Audition Worth Watching?

Despite finding Audition’s legendary finale to be underwhelming, I’m still entirely glad that I finally watched it. It’s an almost entirely engrossing experience, presented with great skill by one of Japan’s most shockingly prolific filmmakers. Nearly every shot turns up something fresh and unexpected. And, to be fair, the finale is still pretty great. It should have been better served by the preceding scene, but it is still painfully brutal all these years later.

Plus, Shiina Eihi’s performance is perfectly calibrated. The movie straight-up doesn’t work without her. She knows that slow and steady’s the way to win this race, never going big when she can avoid it. With perfectly calibrated understatement, she seizes your attention every time she’s onscreen. She slowly and methodically draws the tension as tight as a razor-sharp wire saw.

All in all, it’s still pretty damn solid. I wouldn’t want one big quibble to get in the way of other Audition virgins checking it out. Consider this a big recommend.