Vampire fans can have few objections to the concept of the After Dark Club, where the strippers are all bloodsuckers and feast on lonely, degenerate patrons whom no one will miss. (Or especially to the casting of Grace Jones as a nonverbal vampire dating back to ancient Egypt.) They will want to debate longer over such innovations as the vampires turning into werewolves (almost) at the point of attack or a newly converted vampire retaining warm feelings toward his friends in life. But in any case the movie expends too much effort, with too little results, trying to be a collegiate After Hours. With Chris Makepeace; directed by Richard Wenk. (1986) — Duncan Shepherd
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