re:View – Lesbian Vampire Killers (It never happened. It never happened. It never happened.)

So, I knew it would be bad. I walked into the cinema fully prepared to see a bad film. But this one completely blew my wildest expectations. And not in a good way.

Lesbian Vampire Killers works by a simple formula. Take two average/loser-type blokes trying to be comedians (James Corden and Mathew Horne, bless yer hearts), some girls flaunting hot pants and fake Swedish accents (“Jaaa.”), a blonde virgin, a swearing vicar, oh and, of course, a bunch of trash-glam vampires sans personality. Lesbian vampires, even. Hence the title.

From there it all goes pretty much as you’d expect. The fake Swedish hot pants models are turned into fake Swedish lesbian vampire hot pants models (“Jaaa.”). Average/loser-type bloke number one turns out to be the Chosen One. Chosen to kill the soon-to-be-resurrected lesbian vampire queen, that is. Said lesbian vampire queen is resurrected, the process involving, in some way, the blonde virgin (by now, of course, the love object of our loser-turned-hero).

Some graveyard-posing, licking, nibbling and punching later, the lesbian vampire queen meets her untimely end by way of a phallus. (Don’t ask. The implications are too traumatic. My mind has already gone into denial. It didn’t happen. It never happened. La laaa. What never happened?) The heroes go on to become lesbian vampire killers, on a mission to eliminate all evil looming all across the world. (Er… Vampires? Lesbians?) And that’s pretty much it.

Never mind the stereotyping. Or the misogyny. That was to be expected. It’s supposed to be what supposedly makes this film funny. (Hint: doesn’t work.) Oh well, if it were only that. The lesbian vampires, when staked/beheaded/exposed to holy water etc., don’t make their exit as you’d expect – ya know, like explode, fall to ashes, go up in flames or whatever method is the fashion among the undead these days. No. Not the lesbian vampires. They turn to spunk. Well, not officially. But there’s an awful lot of squirting of spunk-alike substance going on. Kinda hard to miss that one, really. And about as traumatic as the phallus-induced demise of the queen.

One little ray of (blood-red moon-)light, however, at the end: Upon the queen’s defeat, the remaining lesbian vampires are “cured” from being vampires. But, believe it or not, they’re still lesbians. Thank goddess.

Verdict: Repeat after me: It never happened. It never happened. It never happened. It… – what?

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