As a child Jack Brooks witnessed the brutal murder of his family. Now a young man he struggles with a pestering girlfriend, therapy sessions that resolve nothing, and night classes that ... See full summary »
A slacker awakes to find himself weak and wrapped in a webbing; after realizing that the world has been taken over by giant alien insects, he wakes a ragtag group of strangers and together they fight for survival.
A group of men head to a remote village to help one of their friends get over his divorce; when they get there, though, they discover that all the women have been infected with a virus that makes them man-hating cannibals.
A weak con man panics when he learns he's going to prison for fraud. He hires a mysterious martial arts guru who helps transform him into a martial arts expert who can fight off inmates who want to hurt or love him.
Centuries ago, Baron Wolfgang MacLaren vanquished the Vampire Queen Carmilla in the remote Cragwich; however, before decapitating the evil vampire, she curses the locals and descendants of the baron, swearing that every woman would turn into a lesbian vampire on the eighteenth birthday. On the present days, the clumsy and naive cuckold Jimmy is dumped again by his girlfriend Judy and misses her. His best friend Fletch is fired in his job of clown after hitting an annoying boy. The two friends are broken and decide to camp in the countryside to forget their problems, and Jimmy throws a dart in a map in a pub to decide where they should go. They head to Cragwich and when they arrive in the bar Baron's Rest, they see four hot girls leaving the place in a Kombi. The innkeeper offers the old Mircalla cottage in the woods for them, the same place the girls will lodge. Meanwhile, Lotte, Heide, Anke and Trudi have trouble with their van and Jimmy and Fletch reach them in the forest and they ... Written by
Claudio Carvalho, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
Britain's worst vampire movie, a puerile mess through and through
Of all the lame movies made by the British film industry in the past decade, LESBIAN VAMPIRE KILLERS stands as the worst of the lot. It's a godawful wannabe comedy-horror hybrid, even worse than that film Neil Morrissey made called I BOUGHT A VAMPIRE MOTORCYCLE. Some fans of James Corden and Mathew Horne if there are any may get a few more chuckles out of it than I did, but I think even those with the most forgiving of temperaments are going to find this hard going.
The "plot", if you can call it that, appears to have been written on the back of a beermat with as little insight as possible: two good-for-nothing blokes go on holiday to Norfolk (not that you'll recognise it) and fall foul of an ancient curse involving lesbian vampires. In fact, the plot was written around the title, but if you're hoping for a cheesy, blood-soaked B-movie in the vein of FROM DUSK TILL DAWN or TALES FROM THE CRYPT: DEMON KNIGHT, then you're going to be disappointed.
There's barely any nudity and the decision was made to have the vampire blood white instead of red, so any would-be splatter scenes are completely awful. Add in a bunch of models with hopeless acting and the kind of embarrassing computer effects that lace modern episodes of DOCTOR WHO, and you have a film which relies on the script to work. And work it could have, if the script had allowed for genuine laughs and warmth.
It doesn't. This is 'comedy' of the lowest common denominator, obsessed with dick and boob gags and without an ounce of wit anywhere to be seen. I tend to avoid modern comedy for a reason, and the supremely unfunny James Corden is precisely that reason. What makes it all the worse is that this guy thinks he's genuinely witty and amusing, when in fact most viewers will want to bash his head in with a shovel the second he appears on screen. Given the amount of screen time devoted to this guy, watching LESBIAN VAMPIRE KILLERS is a cinematic equivalent of hell on Earth.
There isn't much else to report. Horne is less irritating, but that's purely because he's playing the straight man to Corden's so-called 'gags'. The actresses are terrible in the extreme, and what Paul McGann is doing in this mess is anyone's guess it's even worse than Queen of the Damned. It's also worse than Beyond the Rave, worse than the terrible Fred Olen Ray vampire skinflicks, worse than anything else that springs to mind. For a genuine lesbian vampire film, you could do worse than Hammer's THE VAMPIRE LOVERS to banish this travesty from your memory.
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