Vampire Killers is a movie that attempts to do for the vampire genre what Shaun of the Dead did for the zombie genre… poke fun at it and please genre fans at the same time. Only they forgot one thing… they forgot to be intelligent. Vampire Killers fails because it’s just so goddamn stupid and obsessed with showing off boobs. Now I’m not one to turn up my nose at boobs, but there has to be a reason. Vampire Killers is covered in boobs simply to manipulate hard-up genre nerds. That’s poor form. Leave those horny little monkeys alone.

Originally title Lesbian Vampire Killers in the U.K., the title has been somewhat truncated to better fit the prudish and P.C. American society. Don’t ask me why. Maybe people didn’t take the film seriously enough… or they thought it was some sort of Skinemax reject. But rest assured, without the word “lesbian” in the title, this low-brow romp will probably miss its target audience completely.

The film is your basic tale of a fat guy and skinny romantic guy going on a bromantic trip… only to find themselves up to their ears in tits and vampires. Somewhere in there is a weak romantic comedy. Somewhere in there is a cheap tale of a vampiric curse. But nowhere in there is there a story. There’s a weak half-hearted effort at creating a story, but it’s drowned out by the most annoying “brash fat guy” humor that I’ve ever seen as fatty talks about tits and girls nonstop, which is confusing because I could swear the fat guy in this film is gay… maybe it’s something lost in the translation of U.K. perv to American perv, but the fat guy just doesn’t work.

As far as directing goes, director Phil Claydon acts as if he’s directing an American Pie movie. The film is clearly geared towards the frat set, piled high with pointless and unsexy shots of slutty vampires, and splattered with enough semen to make Liberace bellow “Stooooooooop!” Of course, this semen is supposed to pass as female vampire blood… but we all know what the director is going for when he splatters the stuff all over the fat guy’s face. Phil Claydon’s film, so filled with brash machismo and misogynistic female body exploitation, lacks the one thing you would expect… nuts. Vampire Killers doesn’t have the balls to be good.

The cast is fairly terrible all around. James Corden… aka the fat guy… is miserable as comic relief. This is the guy that’s supposed to make us laugh and the best he can do is bring up tacit revulsion. Corden has all the charisma of a ball of bacon peppered with rat stool. His counterpart isn’t any better. Mathew Horne… aka the skinny romantic… is about as lifeless as the supposed lesbian vampires he’s supposed to be killing. Horne isn’t so much a character in the film as he is a life-size mannequin for fat guy to riff off of. He does nothing, is nothing, and hopefully will stay nothing. The rest of the cast is comprised of hot chicks, who have no skill as actresses. If you had skill as an actress, would you appear in some mindless frat boy’s vampire wet dream just to show off your tits and say, “Ja?” I didn’t think so… well maybe some of you would, but you shouldn’t! Save it for a good movie.

Vampire Killers is a disastrous movie that was made for all the wrong reasons by people who have all the wrong skills. These people should be shooting low-rent softcore porn, because that’s what the movie comes off as… only less sexy than a crumpled up and stained Playboy centerfold in the bottom of your old man’s sock drawer. Yikes.

Final Synopsis: This movie sucks. If you like boobs, it’ll do, but there’s absolutely no other reason to watch this. Skip it.

Points Lost: -1 for bad “fat guy” humor, -1 for poor writing, -1 for mindless storytelling, -1 for humor that wouldn’t make a bonered out six-year-old giggle, -1 for being boring

Lesson Learned: Boobs can be unenjoyable in the wrong hands.

Burning Question: Honestly, why would you drop the word “lesbian” from the title?

Vampire Killers
5/10

Vampire Killers (2009) - New DVD Movie Reviews5.0101

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