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Jackass Forever

It’s Sunday afternoon, 72 hours after an omega-level ice storm knocked out the power to roughly half of Memphis, when I realize I need to see a movie to review for this week’s Flyer. After two nights spent in a heatless house, the wife and I have decamped to the climate-controlled refuge of a friend’s home office/guest bedroom. Outside, chainsaws roar through downed trees, and MLGW crews struggle to reconnect the power grid. “Maybe you’ll get power back today,” says our host, trying to be encouraging.

Oh, you sweet summer child. I was here for Ice Storm ’94 and Hurricane Elvis. I know that, when Mother Nature gets really pissed off, it can take weeks to get back to normal. And just what “normal” do we want to get back to? An uncontrolled spread of a mutant virus? The death toll reached 900,000 while we were preoccupied with arctic survival. A fascist movement called the Republican party that has already tried to violently overthrow American democracy and has now graduated to the book-burning phase? An attorney general who refuses to prosecute the traitorous Donald Trump while “very serious people” cluck-cluck about decorum? A rapidly deteriorating planetary climate that we apparently can’t do anything about because a Maserati-driving Senator from West fucking Virginia is afraid his coal stocks will take a hit?

Understandably upset by the prankster, a bull throws Johnny Knoxville.

Malco Powerhouse is open, so which movie should I see to escape this little sneak preview of my future as a climate change refugee? Should it be Roland Emmerich’s latest epic, Moonfall, where I presume a ragtag team tries to prevent the moon from crashing into the Earth, in defiance of all laws of physics and principles of good cinema? Do I want to slog through disaster porn in the midst of an actual disaster?

No, I choose Jackass Forever.

It’s been 20 years since Jackass, that unholy mutation of skater culture that marked the final debasement of MTV, spawned its first feature film. Johnny Knoxville, who, like many East Tennesseans, punches way above his weight in the “destroying Western culture” category, now has five feature films to add to the hundreds of hours of “reality” television he has produced.

How bad could it be? I’m living through William Gibson’s jackpot apocalypse. What could the Jackass crew show me that I haven’t seen?

The answer is: their dicks. Johnsons. Penises. Pricks. The full buffalo. Jackass Forever breaks new ground in the field of high-speed photography of the human testicle. In the opening sequence, director Jeff Tremaine channels Ishirō Honda and attacks a miniature city with a kaiju dingus. When gonads are pummeled with tiny boxing gloves, he brings you every detail at 1,000 frames per second. A guy named Danger gets a nut shot from MMA fighter Francis Ngannou, who holds the record for the hardest punch ever recorded. Two goombas smush their manhood in transparent acrylic schlong presses and use them as ping pong paddles.

Fortunately, Jackass Forever is more than just elaborate genital torture schemes. They also shock each other with tasers, concuss their friends with thrown soccer balls, and terrorize innocent civilians with scatalogical pranks. The team enlists MythBusters’ Tory Belleci to bring science to bear on their 14-year quest to light a fart underwater. Gallons of pig semen are put to nonreproductive use. Tyler, The Creator wears a tuxedo to get his testicles tased. Snakes bite, tarantulas crawl, and a vulture bites a dwarf’s bulging package. I tapped out when Steve-O’s ding dong was attacked by a swarm of bees.

And here we are, back to recreational penile trauma. Was there a meeting at Paramount where someone said, “Even if it tanks at the box office, we’ll still make a fortune from the ball torture fetish community”? I’m probably not the first person to say this, but Jackass is the most repressed homoerotic franchise in film history. Seriously, y’all, just fuck and get it over with already!

I sit in the Powerhouse and let the joystick slapstick wash over me like a shock wave of shit from an exploding porta potty, just happy to be in a room with working heat. “We’re not NASA scientists,” says comedian and Jackass fanboy Eric André. “This isn’t Mensa. We get down and dirty.”

Jackass Forever is currently the No. 1 film in America.

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Weekend Roundup 25: Tyler, The Creator, Loretta Lynn, Widespread Panic

Tyler, The Creator plays Minglewood Hall on Friday, July 17th.

The 25th edition of my Weekend Roundup packs a punch with big name artists playing Memphis all weekend long. From Tyler, The Creator to Ronnie Milsap, there is a little something for everyone this weekend. If you’re planning on going to any of this weekend’s outdoor shows, remember to stay hydrated!  

Friday, July 17th
Impala, DJ Eric Hermeyer, 6 p.m at Handy Park, free.

Tyler, The Creator, Taco, 8 p.m. at Minglewood Hall, $25-$28.

Weekend Roundup 25: Tyler, The Creator, Loretta Lynn, Widespread Panic (7)

Motel Mirrors, 7:30 p.m. at the Levitt Shell, free.

Loretta Lynn, 8 p.m. at the Gold Strike Casino, prices vary.

Weekend Roundup 25: Tyler, The Creator, Loretta Lynn, Widespread Panic (2)

The Zebbler Encanti Experience, 9 p.m. at the Hi-Tone, price undisclosed.

Super Witch, Lookout Mountain Daredevils, 9:30 p.m. at Murphy’s, $5.

Weekend Roundup 25: Tyler, The Creator, Loretta Lynn, Widespread Panic (3)

Saturday, July 18th
St. Paul and the Broken Bones, 7:30 p.m. at the Levitt Shell, free.

Widespread Panic, 7:30 p.m. at Snowden Grove Amphitheater, prices vary.

Weekend Roundup 25: Tyler, The Creator, Loretta Lynn, Widespread Panic (4)

Ronnie Milsap, 8 p.m. at Horseshoe Tunica, prices vary.

Weekend Roundup 25: Tyler, The Creator, Loretta Lynn, Widespread Panic (5)

Zigadoo Moneyclips, Highway HiFi, 10 p.m. at the Hi-Tone, $5.

Sunday, July 19th
The Settlers, 4 p.m. at Lafayette’s Music Room.

Victor Wainright, 7:30 p.m. at the Levitt Shell, free.

Weekend Roundup 25: Tyler, The Creator, Loretta Lynn, Widespread Panic (6)