Jordan Waller expertly weaves dark comedy with current social fears, stuffing xenophobia and nationalism into an industrial-sized meat grinder. Two Heads Creek is now available to rent, stream or buy.
Good horror comedies are rare, with many struggling to balance the interface between gore, humour, and cutting social commentary or satire. Thankfully, Two Heads Creek is one of those rare good ones as its gloriously dark script, energetic delivery, and sublime performances take a scalpel to Britain’s growing nationalism, BREXIT and right-wing politics. Joyously embracing the humour of The League of Gentlemen, Shaun of the Dead and the horror of The Hills Have Eyes, Jordan Waller’s Two Heads Creek is bathed in a bonkers amount of blood and brilliantly realised social satire.
After the death of their British/Polish mother, who ran a butcher’s shop in the heartland of BREXIT Britain, Norman (Jordan Waller) and his thespian sister Annabelle (Kathryn Wilder) are attempting to look to their future. Norman has stepped back into the butcher’s shop, with some decidedly ropey sausage making, while Annabelle urges them to sell the shop and get out of town so that she can build on her lacklustre acting career. But as Norman attends the wake of his mother amidst a disaster zone of meaty morsels and strange-looking canapés, a phone call catches him off guard —a reverse charge call from Australia, where the caller hangs up immediately after asking for his mother.
Initially, Norman thinks no more of the mysterious call as he cleans the dog shit from the butcher’s shop window, lovingly thrown by the racist BREXIT-loving locals who make his life hell. But that phone call is about to lead Norman and Annabelle to uncover a deep family secret: they were adopted, and their birth mother lives in the small town of ‘Two Heads Creek’, Australia. But as they journey out to Oz, neither Norman nor Annabelle knows the horror that awaits them!
Every aspect of the crazy, ingenious, wild ride that ensues is beautifully crafted, from the soundtrack to the mayhem of the small dusty town and its odd inhabitants. Director Jesse O’Brien keeps the proceedings fast-paced as the blood begins to fly. But the devilishly sharp screenplay elevates Two Heads Creek above and beyond the standard comedy horror. Here, Jordan Waller expertly weaves dark comedy with current social fears, stuffing xenophobia and nationalism into an industrial-sized meat grinder. I recently met Jordan to discuss horror, dodgy sausages, growing nationalism, and blood-splattered comedy.
Q: I loved Two Heads Creek, but I have to admit I also have a somewhat twisted sense of humour! How would you describe your sense of humour, and what comedies have and continue to inspire you?
I, too, have a dark, sadistic, peri-psychopathic sense of humour. But we can forgive ourselves that, for jokes need victims. And as long as you’re punching up rather than down – something of which I was very conscious in the making of this film – I think humour has a brilliant capacity to do something more than merely entertain. Julia Davis is a real hero of mine in this respect – she has a Midas touch when it comes to dark humour, as her jokes are sadistic yet properly targeted. She’s not overtly political because she’s cleverer than me – her gift is the ability to make you fall in love with bad people. I admire that.
Q: How long did it take for Two Heads Creek to progress from page to screen? Were there any challenges along the way?
It took years! I think I started writing the thing the day of the Brexit referendum result, and if you imagine what a prolonged and tedious process that’s been, you get a sense of what it takes to get a little film off the ground. It was initially set in Norfolk – the capital of British inbreeding – but a circuitous path of money, chance encounters and enthusiastic locals saw it made years later in a tiny outback village in the middle of Queensland. Fortunately, Australians are just as racist and inbred as we are.
Q: The movie has a lot to say about xenophobia and nationalism; its cannibalism is symbolic of how humans eat each other through fear and hate. Lacing these big social themes into a comedy/horror must have been challenging.
It would have been a lot easier to write had you been there with me because I couldn’t have expressed the themes more intelligibly myself! In truth, it wasn’t a great challenge because it wasn’t enormously subtle – I wanted something big, idiotic and on the nose because that best reflects the bigots I was targeting.
Q: What was the first horror movie you ever saw?
It was Silence of the Lambs – and I must have been about eleven years old. My mothers were not aware that I was watching it; otherwise, they’d have been deeply concerned – with good reason, as it’s doubtless contributed to my dissipation. I don’t know what it was about the film, but it completely captivated me – the shock, the psychology, the twists and turns… Mixed with lesbian icons Anthony Hopkins and Jodi Foster, it was love at first viewing for me.
Q: Throughout the film, women hold positions of strength, subverting the classic scream queen. How important was it for you to celebrate strong and resilient female characters?
It doesn’t make sense to me to write boring, weak and reactive women because, ultimately, women make the world go round – men just take all the credit and bleat on about their heroic, onanistic journeys of self-discovery. Hence, Norman, and why I wanted to suspend him as a pathetic central character between the three powerhouses of Annabelle, Apple and Mary. They’re actually doing everything while Norman is pottering around and learning meaningless facts about his origin story – a totally fatuous endeavour, but one that obsesses men like me. But he’s still the lead – much to his sister’s chagrin – because that’s how the world works. And I wanted to play him.
Q: I don’t think we are spoiling anything by saying this film is drenched in blood. What was it like being surrounded by all that gore on set?
Surreal. I remember eating my lunch next to a severed penis one day, and though it didn’t quell my appetite entirely, it certainly made me think about ethically sourced pork.
Q: It seems like the cast and crew had an absolute blast working on Two Heads Creek. What memories from filming will stick with you?
I adored everyone who worked on this film – except for my costar, Kathryn Wilder, who was verbally abusive to me in fifteen-minute intervals and is also a pyromaniac. I don’t think I’ll forget the heat in the meat shed, the yonic prosthetic glued to my leg, the belly laughs afforded by the famous bald actor Gary Sweet, and a drink called ‘Bundy’.
Q: If you could pick one activity from the following, which would you choose? A) A weekend crash course in butchery, B) A vegan cooking course or C) A budget beer-tasting course.
Alas, I’ve done all three during lockdown. I’ve been living with and cooking for my mother, who self-identifies as a vegan. Her neighbour is a sheep farmer who taught me how to slaughter babies. And I’m an alcoholic. So I’d probably celebrate the end of this miserable time with D) A couple of grams of smack.
Q: Finally, which would you prefer: a hot bowl of a strange-looking stew, a dodgy-looking sausage, or a raw onion?
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t consumed dodgy sausage in the past.
Director: Jesse O’Brien
Cast: Jordan Waller, Kerry Armstrong, Gary Sweet, Kathryn Wilder, Don Bridges, Stephen Hunter, Helen Dallimore, David Adlam, Kevin Harrington
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