Main cast: Thomas Jane (Elliot Jones), Kara Hayward (Flynn), Jack Donnelly (Jack Chambers), Lydia Hearst (Liz Andrews), Malin Akerman (Beverly Rektor), and Abigail Breslin (Jules)
Director: K Asher Levin
Four people in the main credits—Thomas Jane, Lydia Hearst, Malin Akerman, and Abigail Breslin—along with the director are also involved in the production of Slayers. This makes me wonder whether the movie was conceived during a drunken binge, or perhaps some people needed a way to craftily move a few million dollars around without the IRS finding out.
Now, there are vampires in this world, but most people don’t know that. Well, Elliot Jones knows. He is the latest in the line of vampire slayers, following the footsteps of Joan of Arc, Benjamin Franklin, Billy the Kid, and more.
His latest crusade sees him heading towards a mansion belonging to billionaire philanthropist Steven Rektor and his wife Beverly. Steven is number one on his kill list.
Well, he’s not the only guest to arrive. Meet the officially invited guests from the Channel Awesome-esque Streamteam folks: Jack Chambers the idiot jock influencer, Liz the model influencer and Jack’s fiancée, Jules the virtue signaling “lifestyle blogger”, and gamergirl streamer Flynn along with their long-suffering manager-chauffeur-babysitter David.
This one is a movie that tries so hard to be hip, only to come off as an out of touch octogenarian that tries so hard to induce epileptic fits among the audience. The story is pretty bare bones, and these people pad up the screen time with so much visual junk and loud sounds to make up for that severe deficiency.
For example, each time a human or vampire dies, a garish gaming interface pops up on the screen to how how many humans died versus how many vampires. Unnecessary quick cuts of “quirky”, “funny” montages will interrupt scenes at bizarre moments like I’m falling down the black hole of the worst edited TikTok vids and I have no mouth to scream.
At various scenes, the whole thing will freeze for labels to pop up on various characters and objects on screen. Blaring or flickering lights can come and off because epileptic seizures are cool now, I guess. I can go on and on; let’s just say that this movie is like someone with ADHD behind a control panel and they are happily pushing buttons non-stop at random without any rhyme or reason.
Throughout it all, Thomas Jane’s witless and unfunny voice-overs are so soft that I have to turn up the volume to hear what he is saying, only to then have my eardrums almost explode when the movie then blares some freaking loud sound all of a sudden.
The worst thing here is all that these visual and audio clutters do nothing to advance the story, or what little of it. The “story” is just loud noises, rapid quick cuts, and blinding colors flashing in and out like some kind of painful sensory overload. The characters are all obnoxious one-note twats.
In other words, this movie is like the worst example of a TikTok poop, stretched out to 88 minutes of acid poured over open wounds with all the pain nerves exposed.
I’d think that should these people used this thing as a vehicle to launder their money, the least they could do is not to try to decimate all my brain cells in the process. This putried thing is another example of why we, as civilized humans, should seriously rethink why we haven’t razed Hollywood to the ground.
