Welcome to G-Town

Aliens invade Glasgow in Welcome to G-Town. A blood-spurting splatter-comedy written and directed by twins Nathan and Ben McQuaid and made on a micro-budget, the film centres around Bill (Danny McAllen), a media studies graduate struggling to get a job. His search for employment sees him stumble upon an office filled with strange characters clad in kilts and Jimmy hats who talk in a peculiar manner. They are a group of shape-shifting aliens, and when their leader (Mark Dallas) sends one of them to spy on him, Bill and best friends Pete (Stan Ross) and Ronnie (Ruben Ross) find themselves embroiled in the aliens’ plans for world domination.

It’s clear from the outset that the filmmakers want audiences to have as much fun watching their debut as they likely had making it. Opening titles in Toxic Avenger green state the film takes place in a fictitious city called Glasgow. A street cleaner is then reduced to a plastic skeleton via stop-motion gore effects before another hapless civilian is impaled by a traffic cone, which is then worn as a hat throughout the rest of the feature. Events only grow more absurd from here, with the cast fully leaning into the madness. While Dallas gives a delightfully scenery-chewing performance as the main antagonist, it’s Matthew Crawford Russell who brings the most chaotic energy as alien conspiracy theorist Alexander. Channelling the intensity of Trainspotting’s Begbie, Russell radiates a psychotic giddiness whenever he’s onscreen.

For a production that was made for next to nothing, the filmmakers showcase plenty of creative special effects that take inspiration from Peter Jackson’s early genre outings. While the skin-melting body horror on display is as gross as it is funny, the same amount of attention and creativity wasn’t given to the plot. In addition to major subplots feeling undercooked, not all of the gags land as intended.

Although the McQuaids’ directorial debut is rough around the edges in some areas, it has the charm, weirdness, and spirit it needs to become a modern (and distinctly Glaswegian) cult gem.