Devour begins during the atrocities of the Civil War when we witness a weathered yet rugged soldier, Jerry, sharing his insatiable bloodthirst through his immortality amongst the surviving troops. Although this plays no foreshadowing memory in the next segment of the film, it was a solid start. Full of hope.  

Decades later, Jerry ends up in New Salem, managing a sexy-clad female vampire heavy metal band (The Virginia Bitches) who tour around the United States to perform and feast at their hearts’ delight. Making sure NOT to obliterate their entire fanbase in several meals, Jerry decides to hire a roadie to help align the girls and keep everyone in check. Young Dylan (a fresh and upbeat performance by J. Gaven Wilde) is enamored by the girls and quickly adapts to life on the road. What isn’t anticipated is the ultimate vampiric nightmare: a broken-down van in a desolated town full of…well…I’m still wrapping my head around this part.  

Once the group rolls into a cannibalistic town after rescuing a distraught female whose tongue was brutally cut off, all heads turn. And more or less…explode. The pandemonium of characters, beasts and gore skyrockets into a new realm of endless goop, set up for a special effects department’s dream. Still being led by sharp-tongued Jerry (an underhyped Gus Langley who claims this role with perfection), they are nabbed by the most bizarre team of police officers who are clearly part of another species with their unsuited presence and vibrating screeches that drive the fanger-gang into ear-splitting pain.  

Now this is where it gets really dicey.  

The girls are separated, with lead singer Kate being detained by torturous devices before entering a gladiator spinoff against a Minotaur; a dilapidated hospital staffed with white-eyed workers serves as not much more than a change of scenery; the “saved” girl turns out to be carrying an unborn sacrificial offering; and the others meet and befriend a fellow captive who sniffs out food like a rabid, famished animal…such as, I don’t know…a werewolf?

Oh! I almost forgot about Cain!
Who is Cain, you ask?
Why he’s the resident Warlock. Duh!  

I mean, what is a vampire movie without a Warlock, right?  

Every Warlock needs its hunter, which is where Rip (a dry-humored John Wells) comes in. Not to save the day, but to just slay the sorcerer. Wells’ role is limited and underwhelming for most of the film, which wasn’t helpful to my need for a little onscreen eye-candy, but that’s perfectly fine. I was busy trying to piece together the Abbot and Costello puzzle of “who’s on first” in this jumbled up tale of a mis-pitched vampire movie.

So, you got all that?
Good, because I definitely do not.  

Devour is highly energetic, wild and confusing as fuck. Is it fun? Somewhat. Does it make any sense? No. The saving grace of this modern-day horror flick isn’t The Virginia Bitches but more so awarded to the male ensemble for spotlighting the well-timed comedy within this hodge podge of freaks and misfits who clearly had no place to go. I am still bewildered by the overall premise of this mixed bag of nonsense, waiting to be struck down by the proverbial kitchen sink. Maybe I’m not supposed to understand it? Or maybe I’m just rapidly aging, but my hopefulness quickly went down the drain while my brain became scrambled during this long 111-minute convoluted story of absurdity.