Lesbian Vampire Killers: MSN Review

For any readers who have been living under a rock for a fortnight, LesbianVampire Killers is the big screen debut of Corden and Horne, the amiable stars of Gavin & Stacey. You can’t miss them at the moment: their faces are plastered over every phone box, gabbing away on every chat show and staring out from every newspaper. They’re probably on your telly right now. They’re the future of British comedy, apparently.

This is bad news for British comedy, since the humour in LesbianVampire Killers makes Benny Hill look like Noel Coward. In fairness, Corden and Horne didn’t actually write the script (Stewart Williams and Paul Hupfield, consider yourself named and shamed), but you have to wonder what drew them to the material.

The story goes that two mates, the fat lustful one (Corden) and the skinny lovelorn one (Horne) embark on a Withnail and I style countryside outing  to lift their flagging spirits. They find themselves in an isolated village where, thanks to an ancient curse, the local girls are doomed to become lesbian vampires on their 18th birthdays. Coincidentally, a gaggle of Swedish hotties has just arrived in town, and before you can say “wish fulfilment”, the girls are holed up in a remote cottage with our gurning heroes, partying like it’s 1975.

LesbianVampire Killers clearly wants to be a Hammer Horror parody with a pinch of the Carry On spirit for good measure, but it lacks the requisite lightness of touch. Instead, it’s mostly reminiscent of those terrible 1970s skinflicks featuring Robin Asquith. Confessions of a Vampire Killer. There’s barely a joke here that’s worth the name: director Phil Clayton relies heavily on comedy boing noises to liven up the action, while Corden and Horne just swear a lot.

The vampires themselves explode into sticky white goo when staked, so our heroes spend most of the film covered in milky slime. Mercifully, the script doesn’t bother to go to town with this image, though it’s hard to imagine why, since there’s no evidence of taste and discretion elsewhere. Maybe they just didn’t think of it.

Two things can be said in LVK’s favour. One, Paul McGann’s performance as a steely-eyed, foul mouthed priest raises a few titters. And two, it’s extremely short.

 

Basically, it’s Nuts magazine: The Movie.