Based on the novel by Matt Haig, The Radleys is a vampire horror-comedy that can’t quite get its tone right, so more often than not, it ends up in a lukewarm middle ground. The British production stars Damian Lewis and Kelly Macdonald as Peter and Helen Radley, vampiric parents in recovery whose suburban normalcy can only cover their hidden natures (and their children’s growing vampirism) for so long.
When their teenage daughter Clara (Beau Bragason) discovers her true self — in an uncomfortable scene of sexual violence turned upside down — the duo call on Peter’s twin brother Will (also played by Lewis) for help, given his “activism.” Vampire case. Characters commonly refer to vampirism as a “family disease,” referring to inherited cravings that alter their behavior and introducing the metaphor of drug abuse into the process. Meanwhile, the couple’s gay son Rowan (Harry Baxendale) quietly lusts after his handsome neighbor Evan (Guy Lycurgo), leading to another double-take about vampires living in the closet being akin to closet gay people. However, these vague thematic allusions are about the only truly brief aspects of the film.
From its opening scenes, The Radleys is presented with an unobtrusive visual clarity that never builds, and often comes across as a lack of energy. The camera and editing rarely keep up with Keefus Ciancia’s truly evocative and stimulating music, creating an immediate disconnect between image and sound that can be difficult to overcome, and this is exacerbated by the dialogue. For example, Rowan’s voiceover and remarks made by the neighbors refer to Clara as exceptionally pale, but there is little difference between her and the other white characters in the film.
These distorted moments are practically endless. Evan’s father Jared (Sean Parks) has paranoid suspicions that the Radley family might be vampires, but his reasons are unclear as the family does their best to keep their identity a secret. The film’s mixed use of vampire lore creates a great deal of confusion, as it draws on some existing tropes (mind control, invitations to enter, an aversion to garlic) while haphazardly discarding others (lack of reflection, burning in sunlight). , but it never sets its parameters meaningfully, despite taking for granted its audience’s familiarity with modern vampire media. The above ideas are set up right before they’re paid off, resulting in fleeting reference comedy and only temporary drama.
The actors all put in a tremendous effort, but the script doesn’t do their talents justice. Lewis’s double duty as an uptight doctor and his freer twin are imbued with enough contrast in the work. Of the entire cast, MacDonald seems to be the only one who truly exploits the subtext of addiction, delivering a chaotic, captivating performance that feels like it could go off the rails at any moment. However, her immense self-control has no release valve at any time, causing her personality to become stagnant.
Watching “The Radleys” brings disappointment after disappointment. It’s never scary, rarely depicts a wider world beyond its central family, and its only laughs come from shots of Lois’s over-the-top reaction to Peter being bloodied. However, given the silent nature of the film, it’s hard to know if this was intentional or not. For a film steeped in the hallmarks of a familiar genre, it lacks any spark of mischief or intrigue and, more often than not, steers clear of almost all the subplots it manages to establish. What vampirism means to any of his characters seems to change on a whim, whether adults slowly losing control or teenagers in the throes of personal discovery. The potential the film has is quickly squandered.