But! Excited I was not. I don't know, there's something about modern lesbian vampire movies that makes them so...modern. It's just me being the cranky old woman who frightens the neighborhood children to the point where they dare each other to run up to her door and knock, but I tend to like my lesbian vampires vintage style: all Hammered out, if you will. I mean Hammer of the production company variety, not the MC variety...but I'm sure you knew that. Anyway, what I mean is, I like the gothic and the flounce and the castles and yes, the blood. As "scandalous" as lesbian vampires are, you see, they're erotic- and I think that's what's missing from the modern incarnations. The modern incarnations I've seen, anyway. But then, I'm old and cranky.
WHAT AM I TALKING ABOUT? I don't even know anymore. Something about Life Blood...hmm.
It's New Year's Eve, 1968. Total lesbians Rhea and Brooke (Anya Lahiri and Sophie Monk) leave a party after Brooke kind of sort of stabs a guy in the neck 87 times. See, he was probably going to rape this girl (Scout Taylor-Compton) and when Brooke walked in, he got all mouthy. She had no choice!
As they drive off into the Joshua Tree-dotted desert, Brooke continues her death rampage by accidentally running over a possum. Rhea demands she pull over because she totally can't take anymore killing- not tonight! Not on New Year's! Brooke complies and after they get out of the car, a CGI black hole appears in the night sky. The CGI black hole turns into a CGI dust storm. Out of the dust storm walks a woman wearing naught but a sheer negligée.
This woman, apparently, is God.
God makes out with Rhea and informs her that she created the Great Flood way back when because she was so angry at mankind's evil ways...well, it wasn't enough! Mankind is still evil, so God has chose this pure and innocent lesbian to be reborn as a vampire who will then rid the world of evil and even though Brooke is neither pure nor innocent (what, with the murder and all) she can become a vampire too and I can't believe I'm typing all this and that it's actually the premise of the film and why the eff would God create VAMPIRES to do her dirty work when it's such an inefficient method gdufduf;asodfiycoiyhhhhhhhhhhhh
So, Rhea and Brooke somehow end up buried out in the desert. They're birthed out of the dirt 40 years later, wearing naught but negligées and lip gloss.
Then, I swear to Charles Nelson Reilly, they hole up in a gas station called "Murder World" (seems a likely business name) for 75 minutes. Brooke loves killing and bites a few people, Rhea insists that they use their powers for the good that God intended, they fight, and I wonder why I'm wasting my time on a movie that doesn't fucking GO ANYWHERE. Not even a bit part by Charles effin' Napier was enough to save Life Blood from the horrible, horrible, kill it with fire pile.
It just...none of it made sense. Maybe...maybe...MAYBE there's an interesting kernel of plot or premise in there somewhere, the whole "God's Avengers" angle or the "God's Avenger gone bad" angle. I'll be generous enough to say that, but for fuck's sake if that kernel was, in fact, present, then it was completely wasted. There are countless scenes that are completely unnecessary...so many that the entire affair ends up feeling unnecessary. The movie is a (CGI) total black hole, sucking in your time and energy...and unfortunately, no negligée-wearing God-broad is going to emerge from that black hole when it's over to make out with you. You'll be left shaking your head at the most anti-climactic climax in the history of forever and ever and if you're me, you'll be wondering why you didn't just watch Vampyres again instead of this crappy crap.
Is there anything in the world more disappointing than a bad lesbian vampire movie? They should make your life full of joy and light, like the laughter of a baby. By the time Brooke snarls "I am Murder World!" you'll think you'll never know what it is to feel joy or light or laughter again. Stay away! You'd be better off burying yourself in the desert for 40 years, even if a lip glosstastic reemergence isn't guaranteed.