Swiping left and right on dating apps is an experience all too familiar to many.
Putting yourself out there to find a partner, at the potential expense of judgment from others, can be a grueling endeavor to begin with, but what if the prospective partners you swipe right on are bloodthirsty vampires using the most common medium for modern dating as a way to lure unsuspected prey?
That’s the starting point for Vampires of the Velvet Lounge, a noir horror comedy that squanders its promising premise with a wayward story overstuffed with too many characters and not enough charisma.
From writer/director Adam Sherman, Vampires of the Velvet Lounge takes place in the Deep South and follows a coven of vampires operating out of a back-alley absinthe bar. Led by Elizabeth Báthory (Mena Suvari), the coven, which includes vampires Joan (India Eisley) and Helena (Sarah Dumont), preys on lonely singles on dating apps to preserve their youth. The pattern of seducing and slaughtering works well until they swipe right on an undercover vampire hunter (Dichen Lachman) and a trio of unstable men (Stephen Dorff, Lochlyn Munro, Tyrese Gibson).
Sherman, whose previous films include Crazy Eyes and This Game’s Called Murder, lands on an interesting premise for a vampire movie that blends lesser-known history and modern dating. While many vampire movies draw on Bram Stoker’s seminal novel Dracula for inspiration, Sherman turns to Countess Elizabeth Báthory, a real-life historical figure brought to life by Mena Suvari in the film.
For those unfamiliar, Báthory was a Hungarian noblewoman, who, after the death of her husband, was rumored to bathe in the blood of virginal young women to preserve her youthful beauty. After being arrested and put on trial, Báthory was confined to a tower and died in 1614. At least, that’s the story history tells.
Sherman continues the tale of Báthory by bringing her into the contemporary South as the seductive proprietor of a seedy bar and secret leader of a vampire coven. While Báthory was fictionalized in the 1971 Hammer movie Countess Dracula, the inclusion of the historical figure, who allegedly influenced Bram Stoker in crafting Dracula, makes the film stand out from the deluge of other vampire movies, and neatly blends history and fiction.
Beyond Báthory, the film continues to impress with a strong set-up for its story. Sherman soaks the film with Sin City-esque flair, down to similarly pulpy narration and a host of seedy, over-the-top characters. Production designer Burns Burns applies Southern Gothic texture and history to bring the atmospheric absinthe lounge, which also serves as the vampires’ layer, to life, while exteriors shot in Georgia give the film a certain brooding sophistication that works well with an exotic vampire movie.
Disappointingly, as the film progresses, it becomes clear that good ideas and an ability to foster a unique atmosphere and tone are not enough to make a compelling and coherent movie. The story is scattered, to say the least, and would have desperately benefitted from a tighter edit. A prime example of this issue is a scene at the bar with Stephen Dorff, Lochlyn Munro, and Tyrese Gibson in which the three men meander and talk aimlessly about the girls they met online. The scene goes nowhere, adds little to the film, and unfortunately is just one of many in a film overpopulated by pointless, repetitive sequences and a plot that fails to progress.
While Sherman assembles an impressive cast, which includes Severance breakout star Dichen Lachman and Blade alum Stephen Dorff, the film couples its disjointed narrative with far too many characters. Only one member - India Eisley’s Joan - of Báthory’s coven stands out as an interesting, fleshed out character. Eisley brings a gleeful, even feral sadism to a volatile and unpredictable character torn between her love for Báthory and her desires for a different lifestyle. Beyond Joan, however, the vampires are interchangeable and don’t leave a lasting impression.
The same can be said for the three ill-fated friends who stumble upon the coven through their dating app escapades. Again, only one member - in this case, Stephen Dorff’s Randall - is even somewhat of a substantive character. Coupled with the overstuffed and largely disinteresting vampire coven, the film would have benefitted from limiting its cast and honing in more closely on one or two vampires and one or two victims.
The heroes of the story, meanwhile, make for weak protagonists. Dichen Lachman plays Kora, an undercover vampire hunter who Báthory becomes enamored by. Lachman is a strong actress (and is no stranger to being in a vampire project after her role in Being Human) but feels uncomfortable and unnatural as this story’s female equivalent of Van Helsing. She also shares some pretty cringe-worthy banter with Alita: Battle Angel’s Rosa Salazar, which speaks to the film’s broader issues with uninspired humor.
Vampires of the Velvet Lounge may toy with some novel ideas, in particular its inclusion of an under-explored historical figure and integration of the hell that is modern dating, but can’t seem to overcome its desperate need for a more streamlined story and host of characters. You’ll probably experience a ‘better’ and scarier horror movie navigating dating apps than you will watching this poorly executed fusion of vampires and modern dating.