Eat Locals (2017)

Eat Locals is the kind of scrappy, cheerfully unhinged genre mash-up that reminds you how much fun vampires can be when they stop brooding and start bickering. Set almost entirely around a countryside farmhouse summit, it plays like a pub joke told with fangs: brisk action, splashes of gore, and a very British talent for undercutting menace with deadpan satire. The real pleasure is watching an enthusiastic cast—Charlie Cox, Tony Curran, Mackenzie Crook, and friends—treat the absurdity with just enough commitment to make it sing, even when the bullets and egos start flying. If you want sleek, gothic romance, look elsewhere, but if you’re on the fence and crave a lively, self-aware horror-comedy that knows exactly what kind of night it’s throwing, this is an easy invitation to accept.

Eat Locals wants to be a cheeky, blood-splattered siege comedy where posh vampire politics collide with bungling human intruders, and you can feel the cast and director leaning into that B-movie fun. The problem is the script rarely lands its jokes or its scares, and the pacing sags in the middle so the “trapped in a farmhouse” setup starts to feel repetitive rather than tense. If you’re expecting sharp horror-comedy like Shaun of the Dead or a genuinely gnarly vampire thriller, this will likely feel toothless and a bit cheap. Still, if you’re in the mood for a low-budget British genre hangout with a few amusing character beats and some serviceable action, it can work as undemanding late-night viewing.