Few filmmakers have worn their genre on their sleeve quite like John Carpenter. From the synth-heavy paranoia of The Thing to the sci-fi swagger of Escape from New York, Carpenter’s films are often unapologetic slices of pulp that make no pretense about what they are. Vampires (1998), his late-career, hard-edged action-horror film, is no exception. Based loosely on John Steakley’s novel Vampire$, this is a film that mixes Western tropes, brutal action, and gory horror into a testosterone-fueled cocktail that feels both dated and delightfully raw.
While it’s often overlooked in discussions about Carpenter’s best work, Vampires has aged into something of a cult curio—ragged around the edges, uneven in its tone, but undeniably confident in its grimy aesthetic. This is a vampire movie for those who like their bloodsuckers filthy, feral, and vulnerable to wooden stakes—no sparkles or seductive European accents here.
The Setup: A War Beneath the Surface
The film opens with a bang—literally. We’re introduced to Jack Crow (James Woods), the leader of a Vatican-sanctioned vampire-hunting team. Crow and his crew, armed with crossbows, sun-drenched traps, and heavy weaponry, descend upon a “nest” in New Mexico. What follows is a brutal, coordinated slaughter of vampires that sets the tone for the rest of the film: ruthless, fast-paced, and dripping with machismo.
This isn’t the carefully orchestrated elegance of Interview with the Vampire. This is a blue-collar vampire extermination squad—sweaty men in flannel shirts ripping vamps from their dens and dragging them into the sun.
But things go sideways. At a celebratory motel party that night, the ancient vampire master Jan Valek (Thomas Ian Griffith) crashes the festivities, slaughtering the team in a bloodbath that’s pure Carpenter—shotguns, decapitations, burning bodies, and a heavy synth-metal score pounding in the background. Only Crow and his sidekick Montoya (Daniel Baldwin) survive, dragging along Katrina (Sheryl Lee), a bitten prostitute whose psychic connection to Valek becomes central to the plot.
Jack Crow: The Anti-Hero at the Center
James Woods, in one of his most kinetic and unpredictable performances, plays Jack Crow like a man who’s one bad day away from total collapse. He’s unhinged, aggressive, and deeply cynical—a man whose life has been consumed by a war he can’t win.
Woods brings a live-wire energy to the role. He barks, he snarls, he taunts, and yet there’s a glimmer of tragedy beneath it all. He’s the last of a dying breed—like a sheriff in an old Western clinging to a code of honor no one else believes in anymore. That subtext isn’t accidental. Carpenter leans hard into the genre-blending here. Vampires isn’t just a horror film. It’s a Western. Swap out Valek’s black robes for a six-shooter and the desert setting for a ghost town, and you’d have the same story—an aging gunman on a mission of vengeance, stalking a legendary outlaw across the frontier.
Valek: Gothic Horror Reimagined
Thomas Ian Griffith’s Jan Valek is not a subtle villain. He’s tall, pale, and draped in black leather, more Nosferatu meets biker gang than Dracula. But that’s what makes him so effective. He doesn’t whisper threats or seduce innocents—he tears through rooms like a supernatural chainsaw.
Carpenter smartly gives Valek a backstory rooted in Catholic conspiracy. He was once a priest, subjected to a botched exorcism that turned him into the first vampire. Now, he seeks an ancient relic—the Black Cross—that will allow him to walk in daylight and become virtually invincible.
This plot, while secondary to the film’s action, gives Vampires a sense of mythology without bogging it down in exposition. There’s just enough lore to keep the story moving but not so much that it distracts from the central hunt.
The Violence: Brutal, Practical, Satisfying
One of the most refreshing things about Vampires in retrospect is its commitment to practical effects and physical action. Blood sprays from jugulars like geysers. Vampires burst into flame with satisfyingly crunchy sound design. And every fight feels heavy, grounded, and dangerous.
There’s a brutality to the violence here that separates it from the CGI-heavy fare of the late ‘90s and early 2000s. Carpenter’s camera lingers on wounds, on cracked bones and broken bodies. When a vampire dies, it’s not graceful—it’s gruesome.
And yet, it never feels gratuitous. Carpenter has always understood how to blend horror and action without veering into exploitation. There’s a gleeful nastiness to the kills, sure, but they serve the story, and they serve the tone. This is a dirty world, and death here is never clean.
The Score: A Western Heartbeat
Carpenter composed the score himself, this time leaning hard into blues-rock riffs, dusty slide guitars, and pulsing bass lines. It’s a sharp departure from the icy synths of Halloween or The Fog, but it works. The music gives Vampires an identity—a sonic signature that reinforces its hybrid nature.
The score is best described as Ennio Morricone by way of ZZ Top. It’s greasy, moody, and often playful, underscoring the cowboy swagger of Crow and his team. It helps that the cinematography mirrors that dusty vibe, with sun-baked landscapes and amber hues that recall The Wild Bunch more than Bram Stoker’s Dracula.
Montoya and Katrina: Rough Edges
If there’s a weak link in the narrative, it’s the film’s handling of Montoya and Katrina. Daniel Baldwin does what he can with the material, but his character is underwritten and at times bizarrely abusive—his relationship with the infected Katrina feels like a tonal misfire in a movie that already flirts with over-the-top masculinity.
Sheryl Lee, on the other hand, does a lot with very little. As Katrina, she’s the emotional center of the film—slowly being taken over by the vampire curse while also providing the team with their only link to Valek. Her transformation is handled well visually, with great makeup and body language, but her character never fully escapes the “damsel in distress” mold.
Still, these flaws are typical of many action-horror films of the era, and they don’t sink the ship. They just remind us that Carpenter, even when on solid footing, was occasionally prone to thin characterization.
Carpenter’s Direction: Confident and Underrated
It’s worth noting that Vampires was not a studio darling. Carpenter was working with a smaller budget and less support than he’d had on earlier projects. And yet, the direction is sharp, the pacing tight, and the atmosphere thick with dread.
He builds suspense in long, wordless sequences—like the motel massacre or the siege of a ghost town—and knows how to punctuate silence with bursts of shocking violence. The geography of the action is always clear, and the use of practical stunts gives the film a tactile sense of danger.
This isn’t Carpenter at his peak (The Thing, Halloween, They Live), but it’s still a strong showing from a director who knows exactly what kind of story he’s telling and how to keep it moving.
Critical Reception and Reappraisal
Upon release, Vampires received mixed reviews. Critics didn’t know what to make of its genre-blending, its aggressive tone, or its pulpy sensibilities. But time has been kind to the film. In the wake of more sanitized vampire media, Vampiresstands out as refreshingly grimy and unpretentious.
It’s also worth noting that it did well internationally, especially in countries that appreciated its Western roots and anti-hero narrative. In a post-Buffy, post-Twilight world, Vampires feels almost rebellious in its approach to the genre.
Legacy and Final Thoughts
Vampires may never sit on the same pedestal as The Thing or Halloween, but it deserves more respect than it often gets. It’s a lean, mean, blood-soaked ride that honors its pulp roots and gives James Woods one of his most memorable roles. It’s a vampire movie with dirt under its nails, and that’s exactly what Carpenter intended.
Had the film featured a more refined script and slightly more nuance in its character dynamics, it might have achieved more mainstream success. But part of its charm lies in its roughness. Vampires isn’t trying to reinvent the wheel. It just wants to run you over with it.
Final Score: 7.5/10
Verdict: A pulpy, blood-drenched action-horror-Western hybrid that finds Carpenter back in the saddle. Imperfect but undeniably fun, Vampires is an underrated gem for fans who like their horror fast, loud, and a little bit dirty.
🔗 Further Viewing: John Carpenter Essentials
💀 Halloween (1978)
The classic that started it all.
👉 Explore the horror of Halloween
🧊 The Thing (1982)
A masterclass in tension, paranoia, and practical effects. Carpenter’s sci-fi horror masterpiece remains unmatched in atmosphere and execution.
👉 Read our breakdown of The Thing
👓 They Live (1988)
Before The Matrix, there was this sunglasses-wielding, capitalist-smashing cult classic. Roddy Piper sees the truth — and it isn’t pretty.
👉 Check out our full feature on They Live
🚛 Big Trouble in Little China (1986)
Jack Burton drives straight into supernatural chaos in this kung-fu western fantasy. It’s wild, weird, and all in the reflexes.
👉 Revisit Big Trouble in Little China
🚀 Escape from New York (1981)
Snake Plissken sneers, fights, and grumbles his way through dystopian Manhattan in one of the coolest genre mashups of the ’80s.
👉 Our full review of Escape from New York
💔 Starman (1984)
Proof that Carpenter could do more than horror. A heartfelt road movie with a cosmic twist and an unforgettable synth score.
👉 Dive into Starman with us
🚬 Christine (1983)
High school. First love. Murderous muscle cars. Carpenter’s adaptation of King’s novel mixes chrome and carnage.
👉 Read our full take on Christine
💀 Prince of Darkness (1987)
A sinister blend of science, religion, and apocalypse — and one of Carpenter’s most underrated creepers.
👉 Explore the depths of Prince of Darkness
🧛 John Carpenter’s Vampires (1998)
Western grit meets bloodsucking evil. It’s dusty, gory, and one of his last real flashes of style.
👉 Ride into Vampires with us
🌫️ The Fog (1980)
Ghosts, guilt, and a killer radio DJ. Carpenter’s seaside nightmare is all about mood and mist.
👉 Step into The Fog
🎥 Elvis (1979)
Kurt Russell channels the King in this surprisingly emotional biopic. Carpenter’s first team-up with his future muse.
👉 Read our look at Elvis
📡 Someone’s Watching Me! (1978)
A proto-feminist thriller from the master of suspense. Not quite Hitchcock, but there’s charm and early promise.
👉 Our full thoughts on Someone’s Watching Me!
🚀 Dark Side Picks & Misfires
📺 Memoirs of an Invisible Man (1992) – Cheesy and disjointed
🔥 Ghosts of Mars (2001) – Needed Kurt Russell to save the day
🩸 Cigarette Burns (2005) – Meta-horror gone murky
🚨 Pro-Life (2006) – Heavy-handed and unbalanced
🧠 In the Mouth of Madness (1994) – Brilliant in theory, muddled in practice
👻 The Ward (2010) – Stylish but hollow
☎️ Phone Stalker (2023) – When even Carpenter can’t scare us
