In a post-apocalyptic world littered with UFOs and mutant insects, a rather dull man stumbles across a sultry femme fatale who happens to be missing a tooth that occasionally smoulders and, upon being busted open, encases a bug -- kind of like how Mexican jumping beans are inchworm traps. In this world also exists a corporation with the ability to clone people and inject the bodies with memories of the original. "Red Cockroaches" is a surreal drama told in the vein of "Eraserhead;" like a vivid, whiskey-fueled dream, there are clues to meaning (such as: How precious are our experiences if memory can be distilled in the petri dish?) but these clues never quite rise to the level of sense. In fact, just as "Being John Malkovich" obsesses over the idea of lesbian sex via a man-sized puppet, "Red Cockroaches" is too much concerned with a fantasy of incestuous love. Director Miguel Coyula definitely has a knack for spinning yarns without a budget and capturing odd angles on film, and he's a whiz in the editing room -- but when it comes to the writing, he's a bit like a geezer trying to chew through a steak with his gums. When later viewed resting on its plate, grown cold and tough, there are only vague imprints as evidence that energy was spent converting beef into bites -- or images and dialogue into plot.