Jumping into this film blindly, I wasn’t sure of anything pass the title: INBRED.
A 2011 British horror-comedy, INBRED is about a group of troubled kids and care workers traveling to Yorkshire for some community service in the village of Mortlake, only to have their weekend cut short by some crazy, filth-covered, drool-soaked degenerates.
The day after busting some mean clean teamwork at the rundown country home they are staying in, Kate (Jo Hartley) and Jeff (James Doherty) lead their little brat-pack to the local train yard for some of that scrap for cash. While there, a few of the locals invade, grabbing hold of some of the teens and trying to sexually assault one with a carrot. Believe me when I type – that sentence doesn’t clearly define what you think it may mean.
Kate knocks the back of the head of carrot crotch boy with a shovel and Jeff comes in to save the day. Unfortunately, Jeff manages to trip and gets a big booboo, which causes the group to go into hysterics. Throwing him in a wheelbarrow, they run back into town hoping to get help from Jim (Seamus O’Neill) at the tavern they had visited earlier in the film.
Help is far from what they receive.
Followed by a wonderfully done beheading (that had me squealing in delight), we are visually fed one of the more intriguing, offbeat torture acts I’ve seen in some time. It’s an interesting mix of horse stomping and pump exploding carnival acts, combined with chainsaws, knives, guns, bear traps and landmines, topped with a deliciously pink cotton candy ending.
Ok. I lied about the cotton candy ending. However, if you are someone such as myself, and love peculiar gore and a finale only a serial killer would hope to achieve, then this is the film for you. A lot of the special effects are not fantastic in my opinion, but forgiving after the first head is gone. I spent the rest of the film performing the One Woman Wave whenever someone died. If it weren’t so late, I would probably have come up with a chant to go with it.
I will definitely be watching INBRED again.
Quite possibly as the television sits on mute with the tune from Benny Hill’s infamous chase scenes looping from my phone.
Wearing 3D-glasses. Banging rocks.
Directed by: Alex Chandon
Written by: Paul Shrimpton