I Bought a Vampire Motorcycle
Alright, settle in, grab a lukewarm beverage of your choice, and let's talk about a film whose title alone is a work of glorious, straight-faced absurdity. Remember browsing the horror or maybe even the comedy section (stores never quite knew where to put these gems, did they?) and stumbling across a worn VHS box screaming I Bought a Vampire Motorcycle (1990)? If you rented it based purely on that magnificent title, congratulations – you participated in a sacred ritual of the video store era: the gamble on glorious B-movie weirdness. And this one? It delivers exactly what it promises, albeit with a thick Brummie accent and a side of dry British wit.
### Midnight Run... For Blood!
The premise is beautifully, almost poetically, simple. A satanic biker summons some dark entity during a ritual, gets promptly dispatched by a rival gang, and his vengeful spirit possesses... you guessed it... his beloved Norton Commando motorcycle. Enter Noddy (Neil Morrissey, who many UK viewers would recognize instantly from the massively popular sitcom Men Behaving Badly), a cheerful despatch rider who buys the seemingly cursed bike for a song. Before you can say "check the oil," the Norton is developing a taste for hemoglobin, sprouting spikes, and generally terrorizing the West Midlands. It's up to Noddy, his skeptical girlfriend Kim (Amanda Noar), and a wonderfully cynical priest named Father Ashley (Anthony Daniels - yes, C-3PO himself!) to stop the two-wheeled terror.
This isn't slick Hollywood horror; it's endearingly rough-around-the-edges British invention, shot largely on location in Birmingham. You can almost smell the damp tarmac and stale pub carpets. Director Dirk Campbell, working from a script co-written by Mycal Miller and John Wolskel, embraces the inherent silliness without winking too hard at the audience. There’s a genuine attempt to blend horror tropes with a very specific type of working-class British humour, and honestly, that's where much of the charm lies.
### Nuts, Bolts, and Practical Gore
Let's talk about that bike. Forget CGI morphing; this was the era of practical magic, often achieved with wires, clever editing, and sheer willpower. Seeing the motorcycle menacingly turn its own handlebars, sprout makeshift fangs, or develop a self-riding capability feels wonderfully tangible. Are the effects seamless? Absolutely not! There are moments where you can almost see the strings (figuratively speaking), but that's part of the fun. Remember how impressive even slightly clunky practical effects seemed on a fuzzy CRT screen late at night? This film is peak that.
The gore, when it comes, is surprisingly enthusiastic for a film that also plays heavily for laughs. Heads are lopped off by flying mirrors, unfortunate victims are impaled, and there's a general splattery glee that feels very much of the late 80s/early 90s video nasty hangover period. It walks that fine line between shocking and comical, often tripping happily into the latter. The scene involving a particularly unfortunate garlic-heavy meal and its effect on the vampiric vehicle is pure low-budget genius. It's this commitment to the absurd, executed with practical, hands-on effects, that makes it such a memorable relic. They even had legendary stunt coordinator Tip Tipping (who worked on massive films like Aliens and Batman) orchestrating some of the vehicular mayhem, adding a layer of professional grit to the low-budget proceedings.
### A Cast Having a Bloody Good Time
Neil Morrissey is perfectly cast as the slightly hapless Noddy, bringing an Everyman quality that grounds the madness. His chemistry with Amanda Noar as Kim feels natural, providing the film's emotional anchor amidst the demonic bike chaos. But stealing every scene he's in is the late, great Michael Elphick as Inspector Cleaver. Elphick, a familiar face from British TV and film (perhaps best known for Boon around that time), leans into the grizzled, perpetually unimpressed detective role with relish. His deadpan reactions to the escalating supernatural events are priceless. And seeing Anthony Daniels out of the gold suit, playing a priest grappling with a possessed motorcycle using unconventional exorcism techniques (involving loud noise and holy water pistols), is a joy for genre fans.
The film wasn't exactly a critical darling upon release, nor did it set the box office ablaze, but it quickly found its audience on VHS. It became a cult favourite, particularly in the UK, precisely because of its unique blend of horror, comedy, and that unmistakable regional flavour. It's the kind of movie people would excitedly recommend to friends with a grin, saying, "You won't believe what I watched last night."
### The Verdict on This Demonic Ride
I Bought a Vampire Motorcycle is pure, unadulterated VHS-era comfort food. It's silly, inventive within its obvious budgetary constraints, and possesses a scrappy charm that’s hard to resist. The humour lands more often than not, the practical effects are a nostalgic delight, and the performances are game. It knows exactly what it is and leans into the absurdity with gusto.
Rating: 7/10
Final Thought: It lacks the polish of Hollywood, but possesses something arguably more valuable: genuine, weirdo personality. A testament to the days when a truly bonkers idea, some practical effects wizardry, and a game cast could create grungy, unforgettable magic on videotape – it’s still worth firing up for a spin.