Lesbian Vampire Killers (2009)
Reviewed by Evil Andy
Starring Paul McGann, James Corden, Mathew Horne, MyAnna Buring
Directed by Phil Claydon
Let’s get this out of the way straight off. Lesbian Vampire Killers is not actually a lesbian vampire movie. It lampoons the sub-genre, only weakly referencing any of the films that came before it. The movie has only the most calculating commercial aspirations, and they blow their boob-shot budget in the first five minutes. There’ll be lots of high-rent eye candy on display after that, but it’s far, far, far from exploitative and has nothing to do with the spirit of lesbian vampire films of yesteryear. Ingrid Pitt fans had better stay away from this one, or director Phil Claydon’s gonna be the one with a stake through his heart.
Lesbian Vampire Killers tells an oddly convoluted story of curses and prophecies that provide an adequate enough excuse to get Simon Pegg and Nick Cross … oh, I’m sorry, Jimmy (Matthew Horne), and Fletch (James Corden) together in a creepy cabin, with a gaggle of heavily plasticized bimbos. The cabin happens to be on the outskirts of a village that has been infested by female vampires, and it’s Jimmy’s destiny to find the ancient s sword of Dialdo (drop the a please – yes this is the level of intelligence we’re talking about folks), and slay the resurrected vampire queen Carmilla.
Lesbian Vampire Killers is nearly devoid of any of the in-joke references that make a movie like Shaun of the Dead so much fun for horror fans. Making matters worse is the fact that the film can’t decide if it wants to be a splattery gross out movie, or “Dude, Where’s my Dicksword?”
In fact, it’s the buddy comedy elements of the film that end up working the best. It’s got to be tough to be cast as the crass and chubby comedy relief character, but James Corden’s Fletch has some legitimately funny moments, and manages to, if not bring something new to the cliche, at least keeps it interesting. The same can’t be said of Matthew Horne, who comes across as a Cemetery Man era Rupert Everett in terms looks and latent heroism, but ends up more as a My Best Friends Wedding era Rupert Everett in terms of the size of the pole up his arse.
Ultimately, Lesbian Vampire Killers will find an audience. It’s a competently made film, with superb visuals, some juicy vampire slayings, a handful of tits, and a hard rocking soundtrack with titles like “Run you Bellends”, and “Whores of Fucking Hades, Prepare for Fucking Death”. It may not be smart, but under the right circumstances, it sure can be fun.
2 1/2 out of 5
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