Inbred Rednecks
Rating -

Comedy (US); 1999; Not Rated; 135 Minutes

Cast Includes
Brent Ponder
Steve Lewis
Tiffany Leigh Linebaugh
Jesse Hooper
Shannon "Redman" Franklin
Joshua P. Warren
Billy Seals
Lloyd Federico

Produced, directed and screenwritten by Joshua P. Warren

Review Uploaded

Written by DAVID KEYES

There is a shameless urge in some of us to leave behind our morals, and plunge into a world bound by physical and mental perversion. That urge may very well be the ultimate test in filmmaking since, during every new generation, there comes a film so sick and maniacal that, despite poor taste, creates both uproars and shocks below the theater screen. A list of them--from "Peeping Tom," to "Pink Flamingos," to "Caligula," to "I Spit On Your Grave"--may very well suggest that two or three arrive every nine or ten years. But since a brief setback brought on by the sickening and utterly worthless productions in the early 80s ("Caligula" and "I Spit On Your Grave"), such cinematic tastelessness has seemed to transfer itself strictly to direct video releases. Apparently, moral incompetence has warn out its welcome in theaters.

Being sick does not always mean a movie is bad, though. Sure, "Caligula" is one of the worst films ever made, but "Pink Flamingos," a film that established John Waters as a Hollywood director, was grotesque but, if I may be blunt, funny as hell. The idea of warped morality intrigues us, and we often enjoy seeing it on the movie screen, not to be entertained, but to see how far one is willing to go to shock people.

One fellow critic claims "Inbred Rednecks" is in the tradition of Russ Meyer's "Mud Honey" and John Waters' "Pink Flamingos," but what is the point in referring to any movie here? This is a project in a realm of its own, clogged with impotent dialogue, sophomoric twists, horrible writing, pointless characters, and dead comedy routines. If any shred of the material had been remotely funny, this could be excusable entertainment. Sadly, it is nothing but callow, empty, idiotic and pointless. It tries to cash in on the popularity of poor taste, and fails miserably.

The movie tells the story of an obsession with cock fights. Four friends, whose names are Billy Bob, Joe Bob, Clovis and Bubba (typical redneck cliché) think that they have a great shot at winning the state title, which has long since belonged to one dubbed as "the Demon." Why does the sport of cockfighting interest them so? Simple: they're money-hungry. When the rednecks reveal their own "Bigass Rooster" to the champion, Demon, the camera gets so close that his entire body is shadowed, and we can only see its outline (which looks like one belonging to a rubber chicken). The other rooster, famous for laying challengers to death, then does something that defies logic and believability--it commits suicide. Maybe this was the rooster's personal decision after learning that he was participating in a movie about unfunny rednecks.

The four rejoice at a bar, stare at women, fantasize, and engage in fights with people who pass in (most notably the owner of the champion rooster and his two thugs). Suddenly Bigass Rooster is stolen. This sets up the entire clan of rednecks to seek out their lost winner. Along the way, we meet other idiots of the deep south, including one who is so paranoid about frogs that he shoots at the first sound of them. Meanwhile, characters are reciting dialogue straight out of the movie hand guide to inept conversations (the picture even spends 10 minutes on a conversation in which one redneck asks another if he would give oral sex to a man for certain dollar amounts). Conversation isn't always a big deal in movies as visually repulsive as these, but here, even simple one-liners lack plausibility (one character, upon seeing Bigass Rooster, actually shouts "is that a rooster or a penguin?").

This is a wasted effort, without merit, decency, humor, and desire to amuse; but it is an effort nonetheless (which may explain why I grudgingly warrant a half star instead of zero). Upon the response of his cult hit "Pink Flamingos," in which a character ingested actual dog excrement, John Waters glowingly admitted that "seeing someone throw up at one of my movies is like getting a standing ovation." Joshua P. Warren, the director of this low-budget B-movie, may have had the same thing in mind upon putting this thing in production. Unfortunately, the source material seems to be confused in delivering a response--people are supposed to throw up at the sight of on-screen tastelessness, not by reading the lame script.

© 1999, David Keyes, Please e-mail the author here if the above review contains any spelling or grammar mistakes.
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