There’s a golden rule in filmmaking: if your movie combines vampires and outer space, it should, at the very least, be insane enough to distract us from how bad it is. Unfortunately, Bloodsuckers (a.k.a. Vampire Wars: Battle for the Universe) breaks that rule by giving us all the space vampires we never asked for and none of the entertainment we deserved. It’s like Star Trek went on a bender with Blade and gave birth to an unloved Syfy Channel original.
The year is 2210. Humanity has spread across the galaxy, but somehow still hasn’t figured out how to stop wearing discount leather trench coats. Along the way, they’ve met a variety of alien species, all of which conveniently happen to be vampires. Leatherfaces, Vorhees, worm vampires—you name it, the universe apparently runs on bloodsuckers and bad makeup effects. To keep space safe, there are “V-San” crews: Vampire Sanitation teams. Yes, you read that right. In the future, vampires aren’t hunted—they’re sanitized, like spilled coffee on a conference room carpet.
The Crew of the S.S. Stereotype
Our heroes are the V-San crew of the ship Heironymous, which sounds less like a star cruiser and more like a high school math teacher. We’ve got Captain Churchill (Joe Lando), who loves vampire hunting so much he probably lists it under “hobbies” on LinkedIn. There’s Damian (Dominic Zamprogna), the reluctant first officer with a tragic backstory. Rosa and Roman, the human crew members, exist solely to argue and make bad jokes. And then there’s Quintana (Natassia Malthe), a half-vampire telepath whose job is to be hot, broody, and perpetually mistrusted.
This ensemble has the chemistry of wet cardboard left out in the rain. Every line delivery feels like someone reading Ikea instructions translated from Swedish into Klingon and back into English. The crew spends half the runtime bickering like an underpaid improv troupe and the other half shooting rubber-faced extras in dimly lit corridors.
Leatherfaces, Worms, and Cheap Latex
The “aliens” are basically Halloween leftovers. The Leatherfaces look like someone microwaved a pack of jerky and stapled it to an actor’s forehead. The Vorhees are… actually, who cares? They’re just generic monster-of-the-week fodder that vanish after a few minutes. Then there’s the pièce de résistance: Vermis nosferati, a species of worm vampires that live inside a host and crawl out to feed. They look like sock puppets left too close to a radiator.
Nothing says “terrifying” like space worms with the menace of gummy candy. When they crawl out of a vampire’s mouth, the intended effect is horror. The actual effect is unintentional laughter and a strong craving for Twizzlers.
Fiona the Space Traitor (Or, How to Pad a Runtime)
Enter Fiona (A.J. Cook), a lone survivor who seems suspiciously good at avoiding vampire attacks. Spoiler alert: she’s working with the enemy. The plot hinges on Fiona sabotaging human defenses so vampires can waltz in and snack on colonists like an intergalactic buffet. She claims she’s fighting against “Earth imperialism,” which is big talk considering she spends most of her screen time looking mildly inconvenienced, like someone whose Starbucks order got lost.
Her betrayal should be shocking, but by the time it’s revealed, the audience is too numb to care. It’s like finding out your least favorite coworker stole office supplies—technically bad, but not exactly riveting.
Space Politics and Other Things No One Wanted
The script desperately wants to say something about colonialism, manifest destiny, and prejudice. Instead, it ends up sounding like a high school debate team ran out of Red Bull. Characters keep shouting things like “Earth imperialism is a plague!” while waving laser pistols. The irony? The only thing spreading like a plague here is boredom.
Captain Churchill: From Hero to Discount Dracula
Halfway through, Churchill gets captured, turned into a vampire, and then waxes poetic about how vampires want to learn from humans—compassion, cooperation, blah blah blah. It’s hard to take him seriously when his big transformation into the undead looks like he’s just applied eyeliner at Hot Topic. His climactic duel with Damian is meant to be tragic and emotional. Instead, it’s like watching two cosplayers fight over the last Red Bull at Comic-Con.
Muco the Villain: Michael Ironside Deserved Better
Michael Ironside shows up as Muco, the vampire leader, and it’s the film’s cruelest joke. Here’s a seasoned actor who once terrified audiences in Scanners reduced to delivering lines through prosthetics that look like papier-mâché dipped in barbecue sauce. He spends most of his screen time scowling, shooting underlings, and making you wonder if he regrets not just staying home and gardening instead.
Action Scenes: Where Editing Goes to Die
Every battle looks like it was choreographed by people who’ve never actually seen a fight, much less filmed one. The camera jerks, the lighting flickers, and suddenly someone is dead. Or maybe they’re not. Hard to tell when the editing has the continuity of a toddler’s finger painting.
Laser guns sound like dollar-store ray-gun toys. Sword fights look like they were filmed in a broom closet. And when things explode, it’s less “epic space battle” and more “a firecracker in a trash can.”
Dialogue Worthy of Mystery Science Theater
The dialogue is so bad it deserves to be carved into the Mount Rushmore of Awful Writing. Gems include:
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“We sanitize vampires so humans can colonize!”
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“You can’t trust her—she’s half-blood!”
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“This isn’t about revenge, it’s about survival!”
It’s like every rejected line from a dozen sci-fi shows got Frankensteined together into one script. Drinking game suggestion: take a shot every time someone mentions “protocols.” You won’t survive the first half-hour.
The Ending: A Shrug in Space
The climax has Damian stabbing Churchill with glass, killing Muco, and rallying the crew. Then they all limp back to headquarters for a new ship. That’s it. No galaxy-shaking revelations, no thrilling showdown, no emotional catharsis—just a halfhearted “welp, that’s over” shrug. Even the vampires seem relieved the movie ended.
The Real Horror: The Reception
Bloodsuckers had a mixed reception, which is critic-speak for “some people were too polite to call it trash.” In reality, this is the cinematic equivalent of reheated pizza: greasy, limp, and edible only if you’re drunk enough. It tries to be Alienswith vampires, but lands closer to Power Rangers with anemia.
Final Verdict
Bloodsuckers is proof that not every idea deserves to leave the writer’s room. Vampires in space could have been campy fun, but this film sanitizes every ounce of joy from its premise. What’s left is a dull, cheap mess that even die-hard fans of bad sci-fi will struggle to sit through.
If you absolutely must watch it, do yourself a favor: invite friends, supply alcohol, and treat it like a drinking game. Because the only way to survive this interstellar disaster is to laugh at it.
