It is those horrific events that speak of that terrifying village. Events begin after a group of vampires were enslaved by women in a rural town because of a disastrous old curse. Now, after a long time, a group of the remaining men are trying to send a sad young man out in one of the vampire vampires where it looks like a new sacrifice.
The misogyny is too insistent to be ironic, despite the relatively small use of nudity and gore. The vampires, when slain, spurt milky white fluid rather than blood, a peculiarly unpleasant, and telling, detail.
Sure, the whole thing sets gay rights and feminism back 40 years, but Lesbian Vampire Killers doesn't mean to offend. It is, in fact, all rather tongue-in-cheek, very much in the tradition of Sean of the Dead or Lair of the White Worm.
The humour is deadbeat British, which jangles fearsomely with the vampire theme. The tone is brashly entertaining, as the filmmakers borrow shamelessly from 50s horror conventions
For others just looking for schlocky kicks, this might have a finger-clicking pace and high-gloss finish, but it's no more than a calling card from director Phil Claydon and the script, written by a pair of comedy-sketch writers, is surprisingly dull.
