review: vampires suck

It’s official, vampires are taking over the world. Not traditional vampires however, no. The bloodsuckers of today have shucked their conventional grave-dirt-chic, unibrow-rocking, cape-furling, dentistry-deprived trappings, and now come neatly repackaged in a glossy form more palatable to the teen appetite. Gone are the days of Nosferatewwww. 2010 is the age of ambiguously pale models drinking Ribena. Oh sorry, did I say models? I meant talented actors. Ahem.

Between True Blood (admittedly superb), The Vampire Diaries (who knows) and Twilight (let’s not), it’s obvious that the undead have well and truly arrived – and as if to cement the vampire’s status as the modern metrosexual monster of choice (and therefore fair game), the 15^th of October saw the release of Vampires Suck, a spoof of Stephanie Meyer’s disturbingly successful vampire saga, from the makers of Scary Movie. And the verdict? Sadly, after all this exposition, it is my anti-climactic duty to report that Vampires Suck sort of… well, sucked. Laughs were few and far between, and the script was heavily reliant on the sort of puerile slapstick gags that tend to elicit groans rather than giggles. 

That said; I don’t hold the writers entirely responsible for this failure. After all, let’s consider the material they had to work with. It would take an infinite number of monkeys on an infinite number of typewriters approximately two minutes to reproduce the entire Twilight saga, and they wouldn’t need the typewriters – just some paper, and perhaps a crossword to pass the time. Twilight is already so crap that there’s very little scope for comedy exploitation there. It can’t possibly lend itself to a pisstake, because its very existence is a pisstake – which means that parodying it is a bit like shooting fish in a barrel. Far too easy, not particularly fun, and a watery mess.

Personally, I’d like to see an original take on the vampire theme. A Dalek/vampire hybrid would definitely strike fear into my heart – and the catchphrase practically writes itself. “EXSANGUINATE. EXSANGUINATE.” 

(Artist's impression)

Further reading: why Twilight is shit, if you still don't believe me

dear pope:

i do not love justin bieber & this week i have been mostly watching...

First, for the preliminaries. I have long been of the opinion that Twitter is stupid, but tonight I took it upon myself to make an account because I’m a rotten traitor. There was just one problem: I couldn’t. The username ‘spauren’ (a combination of ‘spaz’ and ‘Lauren’ bestowed upon me at the age of 14 or thereabouts) that I habitually use has already been taken. By this person. Needless to say, I'm horrified and would just like to clarify that I do not, I repeat do not have an obsession with Justin Bieber. And that's not me. 

Chris Bates, 100% charisma

In other news, thanks to The Apprentice, I now know that it’s possible for a man to survive a traumatic full-body hair gel immersion and go on to do great things. Charismatic contestant Chris Bates this week shined in his sales role, pitching a glorified beach towel to a series of underwhelmed business types. In fairness, it didn’t help that the towel was hilariously named ‘Cüüli’. Yes, spelt like that. No, really. It’s wreaking absolute havoc with my Spell-check. 

Chris somehow managed to drone, stutter and even sap all the humour out of the charmingly whimsical product concept, which was brimming with potential. Oh my god it’s a rolled up towel?! With a cool box in it for my water bottle?! And it comes in that stylish blue neon-nylon combo, with cute little bonus patronising umlauts? Get out of town! And buy me three while you’re there!

Ill-advised though they may have been, this woeful performance paled in comparison to the all-woman team ‘Apollo’, who richly deserve a resounding chorus of ‘bitches be crazy’. Never has so much hair-tossing and shrieking been witnessed since two days ago on America’s Next Top Model. 

On a more positive note, Channel Four's Phone Shop is a refreshing and genuinely hilarious piece of comedy, though one wouldn't expect less with Ricky Gervais as script editor. It blends realism, farce, and some wonderfully tragic characters to deliver a fairly authentic (if exaggerated) glimpse into the retail experience. After watching two epidodes I feel faintly ashamed of my sucker 24-month contract now. Oh well, at least I got too much flow for Pay As You Go. 

Phone Shop, C4

all up in this blog, inaugurating

In the true spirit of boredom and sheer contrariness (is that a word? Oh well, it is now), and in light of Andrew Marr’s delightful comments re: the noble enterprise of blogging reported in today’s Daily Telegraph, I have decided to start a blog. 

…This is it, by the way. Allons-y! 

The article in question relates some of the political presenter’s choicest verbal morsels from his recent appearance at the Cheltenham Literature Festival. According to Marr: "A lot of bloggers seem to be socially inadequate, pimpled, single, slightly seedy, bald, cauliflower-nosed, young men sitting in their mother's basements and ranting."

And to that, I present the robust and hearty rebuttal of: “…yes okay, there probably are quite a few of those”. Of course, it would be wonderful to come out swinging with a stout denial, but I’d rather not begin my blogging career with lies and deception. That said, one has to question his approach - that is, the approach of taking a stereotype and then building a generalisation the size of Canary Wharf on top of it, before painting “SUCK ON THIS, NERDBITCHES” in a really obscene crimson all over it. 

Marr’s assertion that ‘citizen journalism’ will never replace real, ‘proper’ journalism smacks of resentment and fear of change. Heaven forbid these young whippersnappers with their iPods and their PlayStations and their interactive 3G HD R2D2 technology should try to express themselves through new media! Doesn’t anyone remember the good old days when we used to send them up chimneys?!  

At any rate, it is obvious that Marr is wrong. Not all bloggers are socially inadequate, single, slightly seedy, bald, cauliflower-nosed, young men sitting in their mother's basements and ranting. Some of us are socially inadequate young women sitting in our mother’s houses and bitching. 


On that note: a man that so closely resembles Gollum really ought not to cast the first stone. Just saying.