In the Eighteenth Century, Rayne is the half-human half-vampire Dhampir and the lead attraction in a carnival's freak-show in Romania. When she escapes, she meets a fortuneteller that tells that her mother was raped by the king of the vampires Kagan and she decides to destroy her father. In her journey for revenge, she meets Vladimir and Sebastian, the leaders of the fortress of vampire hunters Brimstone, and she joins their society. She seeks for powerful talismans to defeat Kagan, while the skilled warriors Vladimir and Sebastian train her to face the forces of Kagan and her human side falls in love with Sebastian.Written by
Claudio Carvalho, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
Just kidding...just kidding!! Why, after wasting nearly 2 hours of my life watching this trash, should I waste another hour or so dissing this movie, when everything about it has already been killed stone dead by previous reviewers? Because, dear friends, I am so excited I just had to share with you my delight at finding the "worst cameo of all time", so magnificent in its awfulness that it could (with sheer effort of will) only be equalled, but never beaten.
It was Sunday. Raining. What the hell, "Bloodrayne" sounded good. Hmmm, Masden, Kingsley, Zane...can't be so bad.
After around 20 minutes or so of this "crowning turd" of a movie my "intellectual defence mechanism" automatically kicked-in and took my mind away to my next vacation, what to have for dinner, and the contents of my Partner's trousers. Sailing away on a sea of serenity(did I actually fall asleep?)I thought myself immune and totally protected from the train wreck of a movie unfolding on the other side of my eyelids. But then....wait! What's this? Snippets of dialogue totally unconnected with the Tequilla Sunrise I was drinking began to pervade my mind. Slowly at first, but growing in intensity. Warily, fearful that I may inadvertently catch another glimpse of Ben Kingsley's excruciating acting/staring, I opened one eye. Was I seeing/hearing things? I pulled myself up in the chair and opened the other eye (after assuring myself that Kingsley was nowhere to be seen). There, in front of me...what can never be described by a thousand monkeys on a thousand typewriters for a thousand years. The root canal work of movie making, the Xanadu of awfulness....Meatloaf trying to character-act.
I checked out the other movie-goers...hmmm, not many left....and they were all, very much like myself, staring wide eyed and open mouthed at witnessing the birth of a legend. Seriously, it was like watching the first moon landing all over again. This is one piece of crap for man...a whole turd for mankind.
I am sorry that I go on a little, but I cannot find words to describe the cameo piece by Meatloaf, in fact probably such words do not exist - they must be invented - "discrapungent" - try that one. I can only try to capture the magnificent awfulness by describing the effect that it had on myself and, I suspect, the other viewers.
If you haven't seen it (and I beg you all to do so) cut along to any cinema brave enough to show it and set your alarm clock for around 50 minutes. If you have trouble sleeping at the beginning, don't worry, Ben Kingsley will stare you into blessed catatonia....trust me.
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