A crucial part of what made Shaun of the Dead so successful and, more importantly, so likeable was the fact that it never took its romance plot lightly and it never took its horror lightly. It made us care about its characters and it made us scared of the predicament they were in. Not an easy trick by any means and not one that stable-mate, Lesbian Vampire Killers manages to pull off unfortunately.

Though obviously going for the so over-the-top-you-have-to-laugh level, Lesbian Vampire Killers is remarkably timid. It never comes really close to being a real horror film, the vampires are more like cartoon villains than real monsters hissing and waving their claws in the air waiting for the victim to get in a good wisecrack rather than attacking. Director, Phil Claydon, makes the odd choice to have the vampires bleed white gunge when they are axed in the head or showered in holy water or whatever our heroic slayers of the title decide to do to the unfortunate vampire ladies of the title which further reduces the horror aspects of the film. This plays more in the old Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein style of filmmaking where the focus is firmly on our comedic heroes and their reactions to the situations. This might have been okay if only it was funny.

Sadly, and despite the game efforts of everybody involved, this film just never hits the mark when it comes to either comedy or horror. James Corden, playing the ebullient and ever hopeful Fletch gets every single funny line and is left alone to carry the film’s comedy while the rest of the cast either ham it up (McGann), look lost (Horne) or struggle with horrifically underwritten characters (every female character). That is not to say that the cast are terrible, they are actually pretty good but just need more to work with. Matthew Horne in particular badly needs more to do in the film and is reduced to almost wordlessly carrying the plot forward - an unsurprisingly slight affair about an ancient vampire queen and Horne being the last in a bloodline of vampire slayers. James Corden in contrast does way too much, shreiking, giggling, ogling, dancing, drinking and swearing, a lot. To be fair, he is a funny man (though his recent sketch show puts forward a very convincing argument to the contrary) and his constant put-upon normal bloke routine does work very well in this context. He makes the most out of every expletive-ridden exclamation at the sheer implausibility of it all and even wrings humour out of the ridiculously puerile concept of a cock-sword.

That is pretty funny actually.

It seems a shame to be so negative about a film that tries so hard. Despite the recent over-exposure of its two stars it does have a great deal of charm going for it. The script never fully embraces its gung-ho balls out title and lets loose but it does provide a few chuckles here and there and at least has its heart in the right place. The sets are tiny and consist of little more than a tiny forest and a cabin but are lit and dressed in an effective way which makes the very most of them. The direction is obviously heavily influenced by Edgar Wright but is nonetheless blessed with a sort of heavy handed enthusiasm that it is hard not to get carried along with. The bottom line is that despite all the positives, the mix is just wrong. It is not so much the execution but the concept that does not work. Lesbian Vampire Killers is cheesy, derivative and crass and that’s the way it should be, it is just a shame that it isn’t shocking, gross, scary or titillating either. It is not an outright disaster however and under the right circumstances could provide a good bit of post-pub mindless fun.  

6/10

Review By Matt Compton