In the interest of getting “hard” copies of my work under one roof, I plan to spend the next few weeks posting the entire archive of my film journalism here on ScullyVision. With due respect to the many publications I’ve written for, the internet remains quite temporary, and I’d hate to see any of my work disappear for digital reasons. As such, this gargantuan project must begin! I don’t want to do it. I hate doing it. But it needs to be done. Please note that my opinions, like everyone’s, have changed a LOT since I started, so many of these reviews will only represent a snapshot in time. Objectivity has absolutely no place in film criticism, at least not how I do it.
Originally posted on Cinema76.
Butt Boy is a weird ass movie. It’s also a weird “ass movie” because it’s very much about an ass, and as far as movies about asses go, it’s weird. Honestly, when I describe the plot to you, you won’t believe me, but I assure you that what I’m about to say is precisely what the movie is about. I should note that I’m already giggling.
Written by Tyler Cornack and Ryan Koch, Butt Boy tells the sad story of Chip Gutchell (Cornack), a plain, schlubby man with a plain, schlubby life. He’s got a young child that acts as the glue for his loveless marriage, he works in IT for what seems to be a roofing company, and if not for his gift for being generally detached from everything, he might just go insane. During a routine doctor visit, Chip is asked to bend over for his perfunctory prostate exam. Only this time around, when the comically enthused doctor inserts his fingers into Chip’s butthole, it awakens an unquenchable desire. In this vulnerable moment, Chip discovers that he just loves having things inserted into his butthole. But what starts as a harmless exploration of a newly-formed fetish turns into something more sinister as Chip moves from small items like the TV remote to increasingly large and more important items such as the family dog, or a random baby he sees at the park. Yeah, you read that correctly.
When a game of hide and seek during “take your child to work day” gives Chip an opportunity to insert a coworker’s child into his butthole, it places Detective Russel Fox (Tyler Rice) on his tail (butt). At the same time, through unrelated circumstances, Fox and Chip are paired up for sponsorship at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. No, Chip isn’t an alcoholic, but there’s not really a support group for dudes who insert impossibly large things into their butthole. As the film progresses, we learn that these two men may share a deeper, darker bond than either could have expected.
At this point you’re surely asking, “But where do these items really go when Chip shoves them into his butthole?” Well, it’s rather simple. They go into Chip’s butthole. No further explanation is needed or provided. Items go in, and they henceforth no longer exist. Chip has an endless colon capacity, and if you can’t suspend disbelief at this point, well, you’ve picked the wrong movie.
Butt Boy transcends the crass nature of its material by playing everything impeccably straight. If not for the whole “kidnapping a child with his butthole” aspect of the narrative, it plays as a pretty straightforward cat and mouse cop thriller. As an added bonus, Butt Boy engages in some pretty pertinent rumination on the nature of addiction, sexuality, and the intersection of the two. It also features an insanely high concept third act that I commend the writers for dreaming up and the filmmakers for executing on such a meager budget.
Yes, Butt Boy is a low-budget film, but it’s never cheap looking. This is a result of some very clever and strong direction. As previously mentioned, this is played like a straight thriller, which means it takes its visual cues straight from the source. By leaning on visual tropes (and some hilariously subversive twists on your typical police dialogue) it lulls the viewer into a state of familiarity while also blindsiding them with some truly beyond the pale plot beats. I’ll just put it this way: By the time Chip is in a tug of war with a moving vehicle by way of the biological vacuuming capabilities of his butthole, it doesn’t feel like much of an escalation at all.
In a macro sense, the script is pretty tight. All of the clever setups have a satisfying payoff, and the plot machinations through which our central characters are connected are not even remotely contrived. Cornack and Koch very clearly understand story structure, smartly using character to fuel the plot and not the other way around. It’s just that the plot they’ve chosen is one in which a man finds himself in a battle of wits with law enforcement because he gets sexual gratification from inserting impossibly large objects into his butthole. Yes, I am making it a point to say “butthole” as much as possible, because there are very few opportunities to do so as a critic, and I’m not interested in letting my chance pass me by.
Watching Butt Boy, all I could think was that both John Waters and Brian De Palma would be proud.
Butt Boy is available to rent on Amazon Prime.
