At one point, arguably one of the funniest in the film, Chief Lazara (Brad Potts) lays out Russell’s hunch about Chip being the man behind countless crimes by way of cramming them into his colon. It is here that the measured pace and the straight tone of the comedy perfectly capture how and why this movie works; this is Seven with a sphincter. Look at any murder mystery, and instead of the suspect killing, switch that out with “shoved them up his butt,” and you have Butt Boy. It is the marriage of a junior-high concept with the crisp polish of a detective story. A pairing done to such an extreme that it works.
“…the marriage of a junior-high concept with the crisp polish of a detective story…”
The movie is not without faults, though. Let’s throw out the whole “Oh, that’s so unrealistic” argument now because that isn’t the point. One of the few problems Butt Boy has is its habit of lingering on moments in the final reel. With Russell trapped and seemingly helpless, his scenes tend to drag, giving us a minute to pull out of the absurdity. I am fully aware that I am nitpicking a movie about a guy’s posterior, but this is my job.
All things considered, Butt Boy is good fun, sans the clean part. This is what it would look like if a 7th grader had the skill to make a competently crafted thriller. This is an inside joke that is so well executed that you can’t help but buy into the joke to see how everything comes out. As broad as a poop joke and as crafty as a Fincher movie, Butt Boy is a keester cake that flushes on the first try, leaving only the scent of pine.
"…this is Seven with a sphincter."
