hee hee butts.In the absense of a linear storyline we spend most of our time at a commune. But -get this- the couple who runs it is totally horny, even though they're old! Grody! Let's zoom in on Mr. and Mrs. Butthumper for long periods of time while they wriggle their tongues up and down each other's marshmallowy necks, because that's exactly what will make me laugh on six separate occasions! 99.9% of the "jokes" in Surf School that don't revolve around the digestive tract have to do with people and things engaging in sex acts, my favorite being a chimpanzee that's totally horny and keeps trying to have sex with that lame-o virgin!!!!! I've always noted that nothing marks a classy comedy film than a chimp in baby clothes. Except of course midgets. I love those little guys.
But the main act of Surf School is Rip, a totally horny old man who gives our boys surfing lessons. Rip is not only a zany alcoholic, but the William Shakespeare of the SPORK CHEESE ACQUIRED IMMUNODEFICIENCY tradition of comedy. When he's not making splattery fart noises or offering creepy shoulder massages to beachgoers, Rip is wowing us with his very long, very frequent mumblelogues. On listening carefully I discovered that Silverman didn't actually bother writing unique speeches for Rip, but just used a sort of Mad Libs from Hell:
"Hey you [adjective] have you ever had a(n) [animal] [verb] your [delicate body part]? [Expletive], then it's going to [adjective] right out your [orifice], [juvenile insult]. Ha! [obnoxious fucking noise that people inexplicably pay Will Ferrel to make.] Ballsack.
heh heh. queermo.
Of course it wouldn't be a surfing movie without asurfing competitionbunch of footage of stunt doubles going forward on surfboards! So we have another entertaining sex-related character to eventually tell us when the good guys win and put us out of our misery: a real live homosexual, "straight" from the aisle of Fagrabia! Gays may be an abomination in the eyes of the LORD, but it sure is rib-ticklin' to see one dancin' around up there, wavin' his wrist around an' lisping an shovin' a whole gosh-durn colony of little critters up his blasphemy of a rectum right there on stage!
Well okay he didn't literally do that, but I wouldn't be surprised if he had. Surf School is horrid enough to strike a nerve with me -no small feat, seeing as I'm the kind of person who can read phrases such as "14 inch dragon cock" and merely laugh like the bitter shell of a harpy I am. It isn't just passively bad, but it A happy ending, just like e/n threads! fucking assaults you with its utter failure in every aspect of its composition, from its tape-delay acting to its [bodily fluid]-spattered screenplay.
The only thing I'll give Surf School is that it certainly doesn't skimp on high quality half-naked people, arguably the only things that kept me going through the movie. I can understand why Joel went to the effort. Seeing as the rest of the movie is about as pleasurable an experience as a botfly infestation, at least he can make $5 off of the one teenage boy in America who hasn't figured out how to type NAKED LADIES into the Firefox address bar.
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
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