Bloodsucking Bastards

Some cult flicks take decades to germinate in the hearts and minds of schlock enthusiasts, while others announce themselves right away. Director Brian James O’Connell’s Bloodsucking Bastards could easily fall under the latter category, provided it finds the right audience to embrace it. That shouldn’t be too difficult: It stars Fran Kranz, a Joss Whedon alum best known for either his supporting stint on the defunct Dollhouse, his turn as Claudio in Whedon’s backyard party version of Much Ado About Nothing, or his role as the nominal hero of The Cabin in the Woods, which Whedon co-wrote with helmsman Drew Goddard. Any production that siphons off the Whedonverse is guaranteed to have a niche following.
Ignoring casting, though, Bloodsucking Bastards almost feels designed to appeal to the Whedonite crowd. Its sense of humor blends self-awareness and self-deprecation in equal measure, it’s in love with monsters and mythology, and it folds a handful of genres into one messy, stilted blueprint. A workplace-vampire-romantic-horror-comedy? Sure—though in 2015, all vampire satires come in second behind Jemaine Clement’s and Taika Waititi’s What We Do in the Shadows, a genius-level send-up of hemo-gobbler tropes and clichés that meldss parody with a surprising, and surprisingly affecting, surplus of heart. With Bloodsucking Bastards, O’Connell takes a somewhat more focused route: Drop the emotion and the sweetness, aim squarely for quips and copious amounts of carnage.
His narrower scope pays off, but it takes a lot of sloppy legwork to get to the good stuff. Bloodsucking Bastards takes place in a contemporary village of the damned, a stuffy, windowless call center where Evan (Kranz) labors mightily day in and day out for the promise of a promotion while his coworkers goof off. To make matters awkward, he’s at odds with Amanda (Emma Fitzpatrick), his slighted ex-girlfriend, who also happens to be the office HR jockey. And just when he thinks he’s getting boosted to managerial levels, in swoops old college archrival Max (Pedro Pascal) to steal the job right out of the palm of Evan’s hand. Max gets buddy-buddy with Evans’ peers right away; he’s unspeakably douchey in that jockish, suave, gregarious way that draws people to him in spite of themselves. He’s also a goddamn vampire.