Can we please put a stake through the heart of the thoughtful, sensitive vampire?
You know, the kind that just needs the love of a nice girl to keep his deathly cold body warm through night? The poetry-reading kind. The sparkly kind.
This is why I am grateful for the whacked-out, Friday-night-at-the-summertime-drive-in vibe of this weekend’s Fright Night remake, which takes the vampire out of the gothic, mist-shrouded castle and plunks him into the middle of suburban life — but unlike Twilight or The Vampire Diaries, or (most recently, unfortunately) True Blood — Colin Farrell’s bloodsucker isn’t here to be a prom date.
For too long, we’ve had to deal with the cuddly kind. I’m making the case for the bad guys … READ FULL STORY