Dread Vs Daybreakers

Hey you guys, where’s the joy?

At any time during the writing or preparing or shooting or editing did you rub your hands in idiotic glee? Did you ever giggle like a 5-year-old hiding a dog shit in their parents’ bed? Or grin like a girl whose bought her boyfriend those first condoms he’s been too scared to buy?

Did you ever get that feeling you get when you hear a belting joke and you can’t wait to tell someone? Or have some great gossip and are bursting to blab it?

Because surely that’s what making a horror film should be all about; impatient to shock or disgust or make laugh or upset or amaze or titillate or dumbfound an audience. Is that not why you do it?

Because it doesn’t fucking look like it.

There are a couple of moments in Dread. The birth mark girl. The axe wielding start. The split stripper. But, fuck me, it’s po-faced. Not a smile nor a gag, nobody is enjoying themselves and the ending ends before the end should end just so you can act all big and clever. Fuck your solemn, somber back-patting pish. I want to have fun.

That counts for you too Daybreakers? Fuck-a-me-a. A humourless monotone world where vampires completely outnumber humans is a fucking terrible idea. F.U.C.K.I.N.G. T.E.R.R.I.B.L.E. Dracula aside, vampires only excite 15-year-old girls. Oh, and 45-year-old women who have never been fingered. All that forbidden, alluring, mysterious, dangerous, eternal love, they lap that shit up. So what the fuck are you doing having a world where vampires are boring? Are you mental? You’ve got vampire police for fuck’s sake. Are you sure that’s what the punters want? Have you thought this through? When the vampire police ask Ethan Hawke about his car crash do they then have to go back to the station to file a vampire report? Vampire paperwork. Vampire red tape.

That would be shit. A vampire shit. A blood shit. A black pudding.

How unromantic is vampire insurance salesmen queuing for vampire coffee served by vampire baristas? Bloody coffee? They drink coffee with blood in it? Perhaps with a nice blood muffin? Blood bread, blood butter and maybe a small string bag of mini bloody Babybels. And don’t 15 year old girls, already serve coffee in the real world? I’m sure their dark passionate desire to become as one with the Nosferatu tarnishes somewhat at the prospect of continuing to make skinny lattes into eternity.

And what about the war? You know, the war that must have raged between vampire and human as they progress toward equal population sizes. Wouldn’t that have eventually turned all cities to rubble, instead of all those gleaming spires and city blocks? Or were they rebuilt by vampire labourers, guided by vampire foremen, aided by vampire JCB drivers and vampire crane operators?

Fuck off. You’ve clearly not thought about your film as much as I have. You don’t care about it as much as I do.

But hey, at least we all hate it.

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