Seattle’s Scarecrow Video (one of the world’s finest rental emporiums) has a section for what they call “pseudotronic” films, and I can’t think of a better term to lay on the movies that haunt these shelves. Basically, anything that’s intentionally campy, self-consciously cheap or overtly influenced by the Troma Team might get tagged with this back-handed compliment, a raised eyebrow for films that bend over backwards to earn cult status. I won’t presume to guess how the Scarecrow staff will catalog “Bloodsucking Redneck Vampires,” but it wouldn’t be out of place among titles like “Cannibal Rollerbabes” and “Cheerleader Ninjas,” and it might even help this simple-minded, but good-natured horror spoof to find its audience.
An easily exasperated vampiress plans to enslave the small rural community of Backwash by turning its hillbilly citizens into an army of the undead. Spreading the disease of vampirism is easy, but the punchline is that most of the local yokels are too stupid to stay alive, prone instead to accidentally offing themselves by wandering around in the daylight or frequenting tanning salons. Meanwhile, the Poissier (pronounced “Pisser” and appropriate too) family wins a consultation with an interior decorator, an effete Frenchman with a terribly fake accent who does his best to cope with the crude, backwoods ways of his redneck hosts. When the night of the big Tripe Festival arrives, the whole town turns out and a blood-soaked battle between the vampires and humanity begins.
There’s nothing easier than poking fun at rednecks, and “Bloodsucking Redneck Vampires” takes a number of low blows at our bucolic brethren. The effectiveness of the humor will depend on just how one-dimensional you like your stereotypes, and with no-holds-barred runs at bean gobbling, beer drinking and the bodily functions that result, the gross-out factor is high. The scene in which the interior decorator strains himself to participate in a flatulence contest is one of the most disturbing sights of recent memory, rendering all of the film’s fake gore effects benign by comparison. Freak fans will enjoy the performances of pint-sized Bill Bradford as a hillbilly dwarf who sputters and rasps his way through the film in high style, and Sha Bosley is unforgettable as the morbidly obese strip-poker enthusiast One-Eyed Lurlene. The rest of the cast isn’t quite ready for prime time, but they chew up the clichés on hand with great gusto and everyone is obviously having a blast.
Since bloodsucking is a given where vampires are concerned (“Blade” notwithstanding), the title is unnecessarily redundant, but it spells out everything you need to know about the film in one fell swoop. There are no surprises in “Bloodsucking Redneck Vampires,” but it’s an effective low-brow pre-fab cult flick with acceptable production values and an infectious sense of fun.