Corbin Nash (2018)

Corbin Nash is the kind of midnight-movie mashup that shouldn’t work but often does: a neon-slick neo-noir vampire tale that crashes headlong into bare-knuckle action with the confidence of a B-movie that knows exactly what it wants to be. Ben Jagger stages the mayhem with pulpy style and comic-book swagger, letting Los Angeles glow like a sinful underworld while Dean S. Jagger’s hard-edged lead barrels through it with bruised determination. Malcolm McDowell’s presence adds a welcome jolt of theatrical menace, and the film’s grimy, fantasy-tinged vibe keeps it moving even when the story leans on familiar genre beats. It’s absolutely not for the squeamish—this one is proudly bloody and sexually explicit—but if you’re in the mood for vampires, kickboxing brutality, and guilty-pleasure attitude, it delivers.

Corbin Nash is clearly aiming for a gritty, neon-soaked vampire revenge saga with grindhouse attitude, heavy gore, and a “chosen killer” arc. The problem is the execution: the pacing drags, the action comes in fits and starts, and the film leans on sleaze and shock (including explicit nudity and nasty violence) in a way that can feel more tiresome than thrilling. Performances and production values are uneven, with Malcolm McDowell adding a bit of eccentric flavor but not enough to lift the whole thing. If you’re not specifically in the mood for low-budget, mean-spirited supernatural pulp and can’t tolerate long lulls between bursts of brutality, this one will likely test your patience.