There are certain 'givens' in this world, pairings that just seem cosmically interconnected and inevitable. It is difficult, if not next to impossible, to imagine peanut butter without jelly. Take your pick of pectin rich condiment, but that nummy nut spread would be nothing without that little smear of fresh fruit compote connected to it. Death and taxes are always tossed into the same situational bowl, signs of some standard of assurance that only corporations and the incredibly wealthy seem capable of avoiding. For every rum there is a Coke, for every crack there is a whore. Existence is just incredibly funny that way. Things get harmonized in ways that make slight or indecipherable sense (cigarettes, whiskey and wild, wild women excluded) and yet we gladly accept the peculiar permutation without a single statement of dissent.
Perhaps one of the most misguided of all the classical combo platters is the melding of the extraterrestrial with the bumpkin. According to modern mythology, whenever an intelligent life form, capable of crossing the universe at next to light speed, wants to communicate with the only planet in this galaxy that (supposedly) contains intelligent life, someone named Billy Bob is numero uno on their interstellar call sheet. Instead of looking up Stephen Hawking or Paris Hilton, they are running down the local rural routes of Fleabag, Arkansas, desperate to commune with people betrothed to their own kinfolk. Maybe it's some manner of celestial sociology project, a way to surreptitiously study how the richest nation in on the third planet from the sun can house so many genetically damaged duncecaps. And apparently, whenever ET shows up, it's perverted party time down on the dirt farm. Between the anal probing and the impregnating, it's like a Simon Wolf shoot by Michael Stefano.
The Zeeka family knows all too well the evils of entertaining extraterrestrials. When their little patch of craven is overrun by mutant Martians with massive members, they need the help of the US government and their special alien butt kicking squad to squelch the unwanted invasion. But they all better be careful, cause these Moonmen are as overheated as freshly laid Alabama blacktop and aren't about to give up until their strange interstellar nookie needs are met. It will take everything Uncle Sam and Pappy Duke Zeeka have to ward off these wicked star jockeys. Or else, they will all succumb...as well as other naughty things...to the Inbred Redneck Alien Abduction.
While Sally and her stupid stud muffin boyfriend screw in the backseat of a car, a flying saucer spies on their afternoon delighting. Before he knows it, our pants-down paramour loses his automotive ladylove. She is taken up to the suspect spaceship to be "experimented" on. Over at the Zeeka farm, Pappy Duke Zeeka and his clan of clueless half-wits, including Suzy-Bob Larry-Bob, Cooter, Rufus and Jenny May see the star cruiser and, as all good throwbacks are want to do, they start shooting at it. The angered aliens respond by stealing Pappy Duke's favorite "jug", which turns out to be a propane tank with an oxygen inhaler attached to it. Now more pissed off than possibly literate, the Zeekas vow vengeance for stealing such a prized family heirloom.
Meanwhile, in Washington, secret government agency director Major Butts is preparing Special Agent Seth Cooper and his partner, Ikan Kikyeras - that's pronounced I...Can...Kick...Your...Ass – for a visit to cowpie country. Seems the Feds want proof that aliens exist, and this backwater imbroglio may be the perfect chance to witness, as well as wax, some extraterrestrial hinder. But what everyone fails to recognize is that these interplanetary playboys aren't really interested in a fight. They are mostly motivated by getting a little countrified poon, and will do anything to achieve their carnal cosmic mission.
Get ready to get your guilt on – you are about to laugh yourself silly over one of the most mindlessly stupid, majestically funny goofball pleasure ever to stain a DVD. The brain-addled child of writer/director Patrick Voss and co-writer Adam Hackbarth, Inbred Redneck Alien Abduction is a hilarious hillbilly hoedown, with just enough X-Files foolishness to warrant the sci-fi title. Playing like a parable to the dangers of wading in the same familial gene pool, while it simultaneously rags on every space invader cliché in the canon, this is one sad excuse for a film that will instantly pierce your entertainment ennui to deliver nonstop cornpone craziness. Featuring effects so 'special' they probably ride the small school bus to the set every day, and enough blackened teeth to make the guests on Jerry Springer feel like dental gods, this homage to the hokey never once fails to find a way to make you cream your jeans in unbridled giddiness.
Unlike most homemade comedies, which can't seem to find their way to wit with a guidebook and a couple of improv classes, Inbred Redneck Alien Abduction is funny bone ballistic from beginning to end. Sure, it stoops so low as to feature a man with his head stuck in a cow's ass, a hick getting his bowel bonked by a mechanical fisting device, and a big breasted biddy shrieking about how she wants her well-hung alien paramour to plow her "again and again", but this straight-up spoof has a lot more to offer than just the scatological. By their very nature, retarded sons of the soil are humorous as Hell. As they move their unwashed effigy through piles of pig slop, lamenting the South's Civil War loss, and wondering when Hee Haw is coming back on the air, these Mason-Dixon mongoloids turn everything they touch into a symphony of the sidesplitting. Voss and his cast really capture this feces-encrusted fun flawlessly. Sure, the Zeekas are about as cartoonish as country folk can get, but they're so genuine in the slackjawing that you just want to give these yee-ha yahoos a big snuggly huggly.
Indeed, it's the characterization that initially sells you on Inbred Redneck Alien Abduction. Pappy Duke Zeeka looks like Les Claypool's chromosomally damaged cousin, a rip-snorting rebel yeller in a crocked cowboy hat who believes in the holiest of powers – the fork. That's right, Pappy Duke (played brilliantly by Don Pearson) lives and dies by the utilitarian utensil, and relishes any opportunity to pass along its fine tine tenets on the wee ones (who usually walk away bored). Equally engaging in a sick, preverted way, is Larry-Bob Zeeka (director Voss looking as dirty as TWO Frenchmen). He surely loves his animals...all night long, and tends to give off an aura of being the secret savant of the Zeeka clan. With big bug eyes constantly popping out of his head, and a tendency to strip naked at the drop of a jump cut, this chittlin' chucklehead would give headcheese a run for its Mensa might.
In addition we have the forbidden lovechild of Pink Flamingos Momma Edie and her poached paramour, the Egg Man. Suzy-Bob, as played by Tanya Brandy Hatter, is so horribly hamfisted, so horny hayloft hilarious, that you wonder why the whole film didn't feature her floppy ta-tas bouncing in the breeze throughout its entire running time. Along with a crazy carnal catchphrase – "AGAIN! I wanna do it AGAIN! – pouring from her piehole and squealing like a sunburnt sow in heat, she almost steals the film away from the rest of the zany Zeeka-zens. In the spoof of Mulder and Scully era government investigators, Chad Bockholdt (as Cooper) and Mischa Bolet (as Ikan) look naturally natty in their black and white city slicker suits. Ms. Bolet even drops the blazer and tie routine to channel a little Carrie-Anne Moss circa Trinity in her later wardrobe reveals. Add in a bunch of ancillary dipsticks who give new meaning to the word filthy, and you've got a company that's ripe...and ready to bring their anarchic "A" game to this bottom feeding B-movie madness.
But it's Voss's direction, in combination with the 'anything for a snicker' script that really cements Inbred Redneck Alien Abduction's specialness. Borrowing heavily from the genres they are lampooning, and adding in their own special sense of stupidity to modify it's moronic tendencies, this is not some manner of message film. Inbred Redneck Alien Abduction has nothing clever or satirical to say about residents of the Red States. It doesn't address the dirt-poor poverty or supposed lax sexual practices of these roadkill lovin' losers, nor is it in the business of making excuses for their sister and brother lovin' logistics. Nope, Voss and Hackbarth are trading on those tendencies, and our overfamiliarity with them, to amplify its archetype amusement. And while the shots are definitely cheap, and more than a little tacky at times, the Zeekas live in a fictional bubble so specific that only the most misguided malcontent would venture to compare them to actual living breathing humans. Indeed, all of Inbred Redneck Alien Abduction plays like a Jeff Foxworthy routine taken to its natural, numbskulled end...except of course that, in this case, the jokes are actually funny.
One would be remiss with concluding this in-depth discussion without mentioning the awe-inspiring F/X work that went into realizing Voss's vaunted vision here. Using a puppet parameter for its production value and a man in suit situation for its acting, the one-eyed E.T.s cruising for country chicks at the center of the story have a Terry Gilliam-esque feel to their cycloptic design. Reminiscent of the space spuds that picked up Brian during the movie of his Life, these oversized plastic puds have tongues with a mind of their own and wieners that scrape the floor when unsheathed. Kind of like the horny heroes of Harry Novak's Wham Bam Thank You Spaceman, these comical cartoons give Inbred Redneck Alien Abduction an aura of insanity that accents everything around it. Add in the green screen greatness of the starships (which look like pie pans laced with foaming insulation) and the animated laser fire and you've got a schlock sensation of monumental proportions. Just like the acting and the comedy, the realization of the sci-fi facets of this film is a jokey joy to behold.
Now there will be those who view this unhinged hillbilly holocaust and scoff at its lack of logic or subtlety. Others will be offended that, once again, the residents of our Southern states are portrayed as butt-picking, nut sniffing stooges who've spent too much time inhaling animal manure to successfully read and write. A few may take issue with the speculative fiction facets of the story, stating that aliens would never invade our planet for the chance at chumming with our haughty honeys. But these fuddy-duddy dynamics aside, Inbred Redneck Alien Abduction is just big dumb fun, and lots and lots of it. If the thought of seeing a clodhopper sprayed with bovine diarrhea makes you laugh out loud, if you long to see a couple of crackers battling to the death over propane snorting privileges, if the notion of a banjo playing doofus engaging a starship in a some Close Encounters' jammin' Deliverance style, makes your shorthairs sizzle with sublimity, then this is the amazing movie for you. Call it campy, cheap, crude, sophomoric, senseless, stagnant, ridiculous, resplendent or even reprehensible, but Inbred Redneck Alien Abduction is guaranteed to tickle you innards as successfully as Mountain Dew and a Moonpie. Now that's good eatin'!
As well as being clever comic minds, Voss and crew have created a crackerjack CINEMATIC experience that looks great, thank to Sub Rosa's transfer. The 1.33:1 full screen image is alive with color, visual vibrance and a lack of the typical digital defects. There is limited grain, no real compression problems, and a nice amount of contrast to accentuate all the details. While the low budget, homemade values of the production occasionally show through, this is still a sensational DVD picture.
If there is one avenue where the tech specs utterly fail the production, it's in the stifling sonic circumstances here. The aural portion of this DVD is a mess, a chaotic bit of cacophony that finds the punk rock scoring constantly drowning out the dialogue. The remote control will be working overtime as you try to balance the noise from the narrative, and while the bands are perfectly rock and rollable, the humor is occasionally hampered by the bombast. Jokes can't work when they can't be heard. Still, there is lots to like about other aspects of the mix. We get a nice bit of sci-fi foley foolishness to accompany the alien antics, and the discernable discourse is always up front and crystal clear. While the Dolby Digital Stereo could have been more consistent, the overall decibel dynamic is acceptable.
As part of the decent DVD packaging from Sub Rosa, Inbred Redneck Alien Abduction has a nice variety of bonus features to truly flesh out this barnyard foolishness. Included are some hilarious outtakes, a photo gallery and a collection of trailers for other films offered by the company. In addition we have the inclusion of two wonderful content compliments – a full length audio commentary by Voss, Hackbarth and producer Donna Donahue, as well as a set of deleted scenes that are just as funny as the material in the film. In the bonus footage, we see a Zeeka trip to the country fair, where the clan is pressured into attending the Pecker-High Midgets with Knives sideshow. There is also a musical montage when Larry-Bob discovers Ikan's inner beauty, and an explanation of who – or what – Bigfoot really is. Along with some additional government to agent discussion, this is wonderfully warped stuff.
The alternative narrative track is equally engaging. Our threesome provide all the secrets to how certain shots and sets were created, as well as describing the budget as "so small, whatever you imagine it was, it was lower". From how cold it was during the shoot to the day Voss stripped down for his infamous interstellar ass rape scene, you get a wealth of backstage information wrapped up in a genial, joke-filled conversation. While it may lag at times and skirt over certain issues (like Suzy-Bob's love of dildos), this is an excellent addition to the Inbred Redneck Alien Abduction disc.
Sometimes you just got to give into the ludicrous. You have to toss tact aside, leave etiquette in the alleyway, and wallow in a good bit of unbridled half-wittedness for a while. Inbred Redneck Alien Abduction is just what the ditzy doctor ordered. It combines idiots, bad monster machinations, a fixation with the fecal, the legend of the skunk ape, an appreciation of forks, and a near flawless feeling of enjoyment to create a happiness so faulty that no amount of penance will ever ease your aesthetic. In the modern mindset where everything has to be ironic and self-referential, where humor is hounded by notions of context, subject and observation, it's good to feel the unforced comedy of the crude for once. Skewering the same stereotypes it relishes in, as it systematically lowers your IQ level, this is one terrific turduken of a film. While those barefoot bushwhackers in the Appalachians might find there character disparaged by all the minimal mental gymnastics going on, frankly, there is nothing more enjoyable than seeing gap-toothed yokels spitting chewing tobacco on each other. Let's face it - mountain men and the moronic go hand in hand. It's all part of nature's normalcy, like franks and beans, Dolce and Gabbana...and Inbred Redneck Alien Abduction and unfettered fabulousness.
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