There are a great many reasons why we as audiences love Horror movies.
For my money, however, I’ve always argued that it’s that great bit of stimulation that fuels our interest. Our blood gets pumping over all of the screen tension. We get mentally triggered by what we see up in the lights. I’ve read that our brain and bodies release adrenaline to go along with the heady rush of excitement, and – albeit somewhat darkly – we’re forced to examine dire circumstances by wondering just how we might react in similar situations. I’ve also heard that a seminal Horror experience can release endorphins that affect our mood, make us sense a bit of private euphoria at the expense of these fictional others, perhaps even making us secretly addicted to the thrill of being scared silly. With as many pictures in the Horror library as there is, I’d even suggest that there’s a little something-something in our DNA that makes us crave these encounters.
Still, the danger of exploring addiction is that – in a general sense – it takes more of the delicate substance to produce that singular ‘high’ in perpetuity. What worked yesterday grows a bit stale, so we ingest just a little bit more, turning our intake into things that might be grimmer if not bloodier. This is why storytellers often experiment – especially in the Horror genre – with newer and stranger stimuluses: the usual beheading has been – if you’ll pardon the expression – ‘done to death,’ so they seek out bold strategies to push the limit. The same can’t be said for Drama, Comedy, or even my beloved Science Fiction; but Horror filmmakers are always on the lookout for the most macabre additions they can deliver to a field of endless possibilities.
So perhaps every generation or so, mythmakers go back to the well of inspiration hoping to dredge up something that hasn’t been either seen before or – much more likely – hasn’t been seen in some time. This is how I felt about Inbred (2011), an adequate chiller that takes a page out of such haunts as The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974), Cannibal Holocaust (1980), or Dead Alive (1992) by pouring buckets and buckets of gore into a central story about the descent into a literal nightmare. While the film might differ in ways thematically, it still focuses on ramping up its bizarre imagery with every opportunity, never stopping to even suspect it might be going to excesses. While some who love Horror worship at this trough, I usually want a bit more than oddball characters to steady the rocky road.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
For my money, however, I’ve always argued that it’s that great bit of stimulation that fuels our interest. Our blood gets pumping over all of the screen tension. We get mentally triggered by what we see up in the lights. I’ve read that our brain and bodies release adrenaline to go along with the heady rush of excitement, and – albeit somewhat darkly – we’re forced to examine dire circumstances by wondering just how we might react in similar situations. I’ve also heard that a seminal Horror experience can release endorphins that affect our mood, make us sense a bit of private euphoria at the expense of these fictional others, perhaps even making us secretly addicted to the thrill of being scared silly. With as many pictures in the Horror library as there is, I’d even suggest that there’s a little something-something in our DNA that makes us crave these encounters.
Still, the danger of exploring addiction is that – in a general sense – it takes more of the delicate substance to produce that singular ‘high’ in perpetuity. What worked yesterday grows a bit stale, so we ingest just a little bit more, turning our intake into things that might be grimmer if not bloodier. This is why storytellers often experiment – especially in the Horror genre – with newer and stranger stimuluses: the usual beheading has been – if you’ll pardon the expression – ‘done to death,’ so they seek out bold strategies to push the limit. The same can’t be said for Drama, Comedy, or even my beloved Science Fiction; but Horror filmmakers are always on the lookout for the most macabre additions they can deliver to a field of endless possibilities.
So perhaps every generation or so, mythmakers go back to the well of inspiration hoping to dredge up something that hasn’t been either seen before or – much more likely – hasn’t been seen in some time. This is how I felt about Inbred (2011), an adequate chiller that takes a page out of such haunts as The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974), Cannibal Holocaust (1980), or Dead Alive (1992) by pouring buckets and buckets of gore into a central story about the descent into a literal nightmare. While the film might differ in ways thematically, it still focuses on ramping up its bizarre imagery with every opportunity, never stopping to even suspect it might be going to excesses. While some who love Horror worship at this trough, I usually want a bit more than oddball characters to steady the rocky road.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Four young offenders and their care workers visit the remote Yorkshire village of Mortlake, which prides on keeping itself to itself. A minor incident with locals rapidly escalates into a blood-soaked, deliriously warped nightmare.”
Viewers looking for any measure of complexity are likely going to be widely disappointed with Inbred.
Written by the team of Alex Chandon (who also directs) and Paul Shrimpton, the flick is little more than an excuse to experiment with torture porn. Setting a husband/wife team of social workers and their collection of foster children in a rural community to kinda/sorta ‘renew their collective energies,’ the story then has these nonconformists clashing violently with some authentic dissenters: it’s suggested that this tribe of mild yet bloodthirsty mutants are descended from patients locked away in local insane asylums that were eventually forsaken by government and society, so they’ve been reproducing one bad seed after another. To entertain themselves, they abduct anyone remotely normal who ventures into the area, forcing them to die in increasingly theatrical spectacles rendered out in their own ghoulish circus big-top.
Jeff (played by James Doherty) and Kate (Jo Hartley) headline as the foster couple. This small cadre of rambunctious teens (James Burrows, Terry Haywood, Chris Waller, and Nadine Mulkerrin) aren’t really all that violent or aggressive, though there are strong hints at the usual resentment of authority or the usual territorial issues that go with misdirected anger. After banding together to clean-up the weekend retreat home that Jeff has rented for the excursion in the country, they head into town for a night at the local pub; and this is their first exposure to the odd cast of players who comprise the local populace. Unkempt appearances and broken teeth aside, it’s pretty clear that these inhabitants are about as far from normal as one might expect, even though the affable barkeep Jim (Seamus O’Neill) insists all is well.
The next day, the makeshift family heads out to a railway graveyard – an open field packed with abandoned old rail cars whose parts and pieces can be reclaimed by civic-minded volunteers – and this is where ‘the fun’ begins. After a few of the local ruffians try to have their way with Sam (Nadine Mulkerrin), Jeff steps in and is seriously injured when he falls amidst some wreckage and severs an artery in his leg. Quickly, the family haul him by wheelbarrow into town, hoping that someone can call for assistance, only to find Jim ready, willing, and able to lop Jeff’s head off with a meat cleaver in order to ease the man’s suffering.
From here, Inbred descends into a veritable hellscape. It turns out that these locals entertain themselves by torturing tourists to death in a circus-like venue, and this family of six has only just begun to assess a measure of what true pain is. With his mug buried under blackface (for no specific reason I’m aware of), Jim serves as the ringmaster over the bloodiest sideshow thinkable, his audience of misshapen townies clapping with stones to their delight. It doesn’t last all that long, fortunately, as escape and pursuit always come into play in features of this type, with the feisty Kate doing all she can to keep her makeshift family safe and sound for as long as Fate allows.
Plot points aside, Inbred is static otherwise.
“Four young offenders and their care workers visit the remote Yorkshire village of Mortlake, which prides on keeping itself to itself. A minor incident with locals rapidly escalates into a blood-soaked, deliriously warped nightmare.”
Viewers looking for any measure of complexity are likely going to be widely disappointed with Inbred.
Written by the team of Alex Chandon (who also directs) and Paul Shrimpton, the flick is little more than an excuse to experiment with torture porn. Setting a husband/wife team of social workers and their collection of foster children in a rural community to kinda/sorta ‘renew their collective energies,’ the story then has these nonconformists clashing violently with some authentic dissenters: it’s suggested that this tribe of mild yet bloodthirsty mutants are descended from patients locked away in local insane asylums that were eventually forsaken by government and society, so they’ve been reproducing one bad seed after another. To entertain themselves, they abduct anyone remotely normal who ventures into the area, forcing them to die in increasingly theatrical spectacles rendered out in their own ghoulish circus big-top.
Jeff (played by James Doherty) and Kate (Jo Hartley) headline as the foster couple. This small cadre of rambunctious teens (James Burrows, Terry Haywood, Chris Waller, and Nadine Mulkerrin) aren’t really all that violent or aggressive, though there are strong hints at the usual resentment of authority or the usual territorial issues that go with misdirected anger. After banding together to clean-up the weekend retreat home that Jeff has rented for the excursion in the country, they head into town for a night at the local pub; and this is their first exposure to the odd cast of players who comprise the local populace. Unkempt appearances and broken teeth aside, it’s pretty clear that these inhabitants are about as far from normal as one might expect, even though the affable barkeep Jim (Seamus O’Neill) insists all is well.
The next day, the makeshift family heads out to a railway graveyard – an open field packed with abandoned old rail cars whose parts and pieces can be reclaimed by civic-minded volunteers – and this is where ‘the fun’ begins. After a few of the local ruffians try to have their way with Sam (Nadine Mulkerrin), Jeff steps in and is seriously injured when he falls amidst some wreckage and severs an artery in his leg. Quickly, the family haul him by wheelbarrow into town, hoping that someone can call for assistance, only to find Jim ready, willing, and able to lop Jeff’s head off with a meat cleaver in order to ease the man’s suffering.
From here, Inbred descends into a veritable hellscape. It turns out that these locals entertain themselves by torturing tourists to death in a circus-like venue, and this family of six has only just begun to assess a measure of what true pain is. With his mug buried under blackface (for no specific reason I’m aware of), Jim serves as the ringmaster over the bloodiest sideshow thinkable, his audience of misshapen townies clapping with stones to their delight. It doesn’t last all that long, fortunately, as escape and pursuit always come into play in features of this type, with the feisty Kate doing all she can to keep her makeshift family safe and sound for as long as Fate allows.
Plot points aside, Inbred is static otherwise.
Frankly, it’s the kind of premise where one typically knows what’s in store – when you know, you know – and it never varies from the path that’s been trod before. Subsequent kills serve only to ramp up the bloodiness, and the family – ever shrinking in numbers – still tries to make their last stands though with increasingly foolish methodology. When it comes to victims, Horror has never been known for showcasing the best and the brightest – yes, Inbred keeps up the tradition of fugitives making stupid ideas and paying the consequences for their ignorance. As such, the film revels in dispatching them one by one in foreseeable style. The audience is meant to delight in their respective demises almost as much as the inbred – that’s what it’s all about, after all – and the flick even manages to completely blow the whole ‘Final Girl’ theory into bloody bits and pieces in the last reel.
As a one-off experience, Inbred is good enough to entertain, but I don’t think it has much reusability. Back in the days of the home video explosion, it likely would’ve been one of those popular rentals that found life owed mostly to positive word-of-mouth from fans who crave this strong measure of depravity. I’m not sure that phenomenon exists any longer, and yet I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that it garnered a respectable cult following. As I said in my preamble, it feels similar enough to features that have gone on and outlived its initial screening runs; but the lack of any true originality might hold it back from securing anything greater than the sum of its body parts.
Inbred (2011) was produced by New Flesh Films and Split Second Films. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Warner Archive. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the provided sights-and-sounds were exceptional most of the time: given that the story winds up flirting with torture sequences and quick kills in spots, there are some small effects sequences that are a bit obvious. Such is life … and death, I’m told. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, I couldn’t get the disc I was provided to even access a main menu, so I’m believing that there isn’t a one on here. While something extra would’ve been nice, I’m also not that sure I would’ve spent a great deal of time with it.
Recommended, but …
With as good a vicarious and visceral experience that Inbred (2011) occasionally turns out to be, the film still can’t effectively shake the fact that all involved – the cast and crew – maximized their efforts around creating a cult film for a niche audience. Everything in here feels as if it was intentionally crafted to exploit whatever ‘gratuitous for gratuitous’ sake’ development to exceed everyone’s expectations. As a result, it does limp into predictability in its last reel – especially when characters just start making dumber and dumber and dumber decisions in their bids to defend themselves – and never quite recovers. There’s no doubt a certain crowd will embrace its sheer lunacy but that’s assuming they ever find it. The Horror marketplace isn’t exactly slim pickings, you know.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Inbred (2011) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
As a one-off experience, Inbred is good enough to entertain, but I don’t think it has much reusability. Back in the days of the home video explosion, it likely would’ve been one of those popular rentals that found life owed mostly to positive word-of-mouth from fans who crave this strong measure of depravity. I’m not sure that phenomenon exists any longer, and yet I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that it garnered a respectable cult following. As I said in my preamble, it feels similar enough to features that have gone on and outlived its initial screening runs; but the lack of any true originality might hold it back from securing anything greater than the sum of its body parts.
Inbred (2011) was produced by New Flesh Films and Split Second Films. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Warner Archive. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the provided sights-and-sounds were exceptional most of the time: given that the story winds up flirting with torture sequences and quick kills in spots, there are some small effects sequences that are a bit obvious. Such is life … and death, I’m told. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, I couldn’t get the disc I was provided to even access a main menu, so I’m believing that there isn’t a one on here. While something extra would’ve been nice, I’m also not that sure I would’ve spent a great deal of time with it.
Recommended, but …
With as good a vicarious and visceral experience that Inbred (2011) occasionally turns out to be, the film still can’t effectively shake the fact that all involved – the cast and crew – maximized their efforts around creating a cult film for a niche audience. Everything in here feels as if it was intentionally crafted to exploit whatever ‘gratuitous for gratuitous’ sake’ development to exceed everyone’s expectations. As a result, it does limp into predictability in its last reel – especially when characters just start making dumber and dumber and dumber decisions in their bids to defend themselves – and never quite recovers. There’s no doubt a certain crowd will embrace its sheer lunacy but that’s assuming they ever find it. The Horror marketplace isn’t exactly slim pickings, you know.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Inbred (2011) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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