Guillermo del Toro's Blade II massages conspiracy theory and science fiction into the sophisticated, European inflections usually associated with Vampire lore. Sexually-transmitted corruption is replaced here with a physiological mutation that recalibrates anyone bitten by Luke Goss' princely Nomak into a feral sub-strain called Reapers. These oppositional vampires are a scuttling infestation; man-high plague rats agitating for a fix of blood. This undead underclass isn't interested in creeping seduction and they have no use for their genitalia. They don't want to fuck, they just want to feast. Del Toro's adjustments make a strange, entomological sense of a folklore mainstay that typically makes prey out of mankind, whilst coveting our romantic messiness. A predator should be a predator, after all. A lion doesn't, in any recognisable way, empathise with the antelope it devours. Why should a Vampire? Del Toro delights in his new species, their grotesque life cycle laid bare: their barbed, flowering protrusions are given computer-assisted hero shots and backs crack into oozing filtration systems that erupt during their frenzied feeding. There's even an exposition slanted autopsy sequence that roots around the peculiarities of these efficient, insect-like oddities. Blade II gave us all that and still found enough time to allow Wesley Snipes to batter his way through an army of twirling flunkies. Backed by Crystal Method big beats, Snipes hauls up a defeated goon, holding him aloft, before delivering a truly triumphant delayed vertical suplex.
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