|release date||December 29 2009|
|writer||Stewart Williams and Paul Hupfield|
|starring||MyAnna Buring, James Corden, Mathew Horn, Lily Allen|
|trailer 1||Trailer #1|
With a name like Lesbian Vampire Killers the smart lot of you probably think you have this whole film figured out right off the bat. But, an astute friend of mine pointed out the fact that if you knew nothing else but the title of this production, you’d be unsure if the vampire killers or the vampires themselves were the lesbians in question. To that end, I say rather crassly…who cares so long as there are lesbians!
With such a minor caveat needed for the film to be a success it’s such a shame that this horror/comedy hybrid from the men behind the BBC hit show Gavin & Stacey is such a bust.
Trying to out “Shaun of the Dead” Shaun of the Dead, British comics Mat Horn and James Corden portray a pair of clueless best friends—Jimmy and Fletch, who set out for a weekend getaway in the Welsh countryside only to discover the town they’ve happened upon harbors an ancient lesbian vampire clan. But hey, no need to worry, because Jimmy might just be the last descendent of a medieval knight who vowed to vanquish the undead temptress once and for all….or something like that.
Directed by Phil Claydon—who helmed the 2002 UK thriller Alone—LVK looks like a million bucks (or is that pounds). It’s slick and glossy and over the top in terms of story and special effects. The broad sexual connotations that permeate nearly every frame of the film—even extending to the death fluids that emit from the slain vampires—are utterly ridiculous. In fact, the whole production is so unhinged that it makes it hard to argue for its lack of success. Indeed, if ever a film had midnight movie stamped so blatantly across its exposed bosoms, this is that film.
Make no mistake, I’m here to tell you that LBV is a bad film, but in the eye of a beholder blinded by a love for humor that would make Benny Hill blush, this film is a goldmine of bare-breasted beauties, slo-mo kissing scenes (with tongue) and a barrage of intermittently amusing jokes. LBV is like the bastard child of American Werewolf in London and any soft-core Skin-a-max trash fest. It’s what a Mike Raso production would look like if it had a seven-figure budget to go along with the Frederick’s of Hollywood set design.
But is it funny? Sadly the answer is, not so much. Conceptually brilliant, it would absolutely work much better as a sketch. Still, I can promise that with the right frame of mind and several pints of Newcastle tucked away in your gullet, Lesbian Vampire Killers will probably satisfy the randy 13-year old boy trapped inside us all.