As punishment for a graffiti-related arrest, community college slacker Raphael is sent to live with his drug-dealing cousin. And an overzealous cop demands Raphael provide intel on his cuz, believed to be stashing and selling plutonium warheads. 

Meanwhile, around Fresno, Texas, the FBI investigates a string of disembodied hands turning up. That these federal agents — and everyone else in Rats! — mispronounce the mitts as “haunds” with no explanation should clue you in to the movie’s peculiar wavelength. 

And if it doesn’t, sit tight for a toilet POV shot you won’t soon forget. That’ll do it. 

The debut feature for co-directors/co-writers Carl Fry and Maxwell Nalevansky, Rats! immediately distinguishes itself as a sharp celebration of bad taste. A slightly less transgressive The Greasy Strangler by way of Greener Grass, it’s very, very funny and really, really not for everyone. Its Barbie-bright colors belie the darkness of its gags, many of which hit the blunt force surreality of a PTSD episode.  

For his first movie, newcomer Luke Wilcox lucks into the lead role of Raphael, but he’s essentially the straight man in an unknown cast of curves and zigzags. The most askew among them is the aforementioned cop, played with go-for-broke gusto by Danielle Evon Ploeger (2022’s Country Gold). Darius Autry (The Asylum’s Jungle Run) greatly amuses as the cousin, while Jacob Wysocki (Unfriended) is responsible for at least a dozen laughs in the first five minutes alone as an ineffective shoplifter.

But speaking of theft, this show gets stolen by burlesque artist Ariel Ash and Brian Villalobos (Scare Package) as, respectively, a sex bomb and henpecked husband who cosplay as a TV news team, hoping to nab on-the-scene exclusives regarding the suburban absurdity unfolding around them. And brother, does Rats! ever scurry up more than plenty. —Rod Lott

Opens in theaters Friday, Feb. 28, and on digital Tuesday, March 11.