Most vampire movies with a dramatic plot are pure rubbish and this flick follows that unfortunate path. I could give two fucks less about some guy's hidden brother-vampire, the bloodsucking clans of Los Angeles seeking him out or the hunters of such fiends. I want the dream-like miasma of unmitigated instinct and pleasure drawn through the pulsing eye of the bloody fang. Throw in some picturesque landscape, remarkable architecture and a few young, naked and lusting faux lesbians and that dream cycle is complete.
The thing is is that a vampire is not supposed to be human and if he/she has such characteristics then let him/her mirror Barnabas Collins, roaring and inflamed with animal tendencies while being otherwise refined. The juxtaposition of both a good and evil nature clashing within one being are what gave Barnabas his intrigue. These gangster-thug types are bogus and have killed the genre. Plus, there is no beauty in it and minus that trait, good and evil are almost indistinguishable in human terms. We are irrevocably drawn to it without our consent just as the vampire is to its thirst. Believing otherwise leaves you susceptible to dreck such as Twilight and this waste of film.