Flying Lotus, Freddie Gibbs, YG and RJ Cyler in “Night Patrol”. Credit: RLJE Films/Shudder
A Political Vampire Film That Refuses to Lurk in the Shadows
As 2026 foreshadows further political unrest, desperate times call for more aggressive art. Vampires have long been used as metaphors for creeping, seductive danger, something that reaches for you quietly in the dark. Writer-director Ryan Prows rejects that tradition entirely. After his striking short “Terror” in V/H/S/94, Prows returns to the subgenre with Night Patrol, a film that reimagines vampires not as hidden predators, but as an ultra-violent, militarized force that operates openly, aggressively, and with institutional protection.
This is not a film interested in subtle allegory. Night Patrol is blunt, confrontational, and intentionally uncomfortable, positioning its horror squarely within the realities of power, policing, and racialized violence.
RJ Cyler as Wazi in “Night Patrol”. Credit: RLJE Films/Shudder
Bloodlines, Brotherhood, and the Myth of Protection
The film centers on Wazi, played by RJ Cyler, a young Crip navigating survival while his brother Xavier, portrayed by Jermaine Fowler, exists on the opposite side of the system as a rookie LAPD officer with an unsettling devotion to hierarchy. Their fractured relationship becomes the spark for a broader community reckoning as a specialized LAPD gang unit known as “Night Patrol” escalates its presence across Blood and Crip territories.
What the public suspects but cannot prove is the film’s most damning revelation: Night Patrol is itself a gang. A vampire syndicate that feeds on Black communities while using the language of “Black on Black violence” as legal camouflage. It’s a bold conceit that reframes systemic brutality as something literal, parasitic, and state-sanctioned.
Community, Culture, and Casting With Intent
Prows populates Night Patrol with homegrown Los Angeles talent, an ethical and deliberate choice given the subject matter. Freddie Gibbs, YG, and Grammy winner Flying Lotus embody members of the Bloods, while Wazi and his mother, played by Nicki Micheaux, represent the Crips. The casting grounds the film in lived cultural texture rather than caricature.
The film resists flattening gang culture into a single narrative. While violence is present and unavoidable, Night Patrol acknowledges the reality that gangs can also provide protection, structure, and community service when institutional systems fail. That nuance is most evident when Blood and Crip leaders agree to work together against a greater threat, uniting to defend their neighborhoods from a predator far more dangerous than turf wars.
The film also takes direct aim at the rhetoric of “not all cops” through Justin Long’s Officer Hawkins, a performance that weaponizes charm and moral ambiguity. The critique is sharp, timely, and uncomfortable, and it refuses to offer easy absolution.
RJ Cyler as Wazi in “Night Patrol”. Credit: RLJE Films/Shudder
When Ambition Becomes Overloaded
Prows shares writing credit with Tim Cairo, Jake Gibson, and Shaye Ogbonna, and while the dialogue remains consistent, the final act buckles under the weight of its expanding mythology. The introduction of Zulu customs and additional lore pushes the film into a bottom-heavy conclusion that feels overextended for such a direct concept.
This narrative overload is the film’s most significant weakness. The last stretch becomes dense in ways that will test viewer patience, ultimately determining whether Night Patrol feels daring or frustrating depending on individual tolerance for mythological sprawl.
Justin Long as Hawkins in “Night Patrol”. Credit: RLJE Films/Shudder
Performances, Sound, and Visual Precision
Strong performances help anchor the film when its narrative threatens to drift. Nicki Micheaux delivers a deeply grounding turn, while Fowler, Gibbs, and Long provide standout moments that keep the story tethered to emotional reality.
The score is another major strength, capturing an authentic West Coast energy that shifts effortlessly between restrained menace and explosive chaos. Visually, the film excels. Rich color grading, expressive use of shadow and silhouette, and inventive camera techniques elevate the production value. Prows employs perspective shifts that mimic vampire vision, surveillance drones, and intimate character framing, all while allowing space for brief but necessary moments of dark humor.
Violence as the Point, Not the Accent
Perhaps the most controversial aspect of Night Patrol is its unapologetic use of graphic violence. This is not horror built on creeping dread. Violence is the film’s primary language, and it will be too much for viewers who prefer implication over explicit brutality.
It’s also important to note that some Black viewers may find the vivid depiction of Black pain particularly triggering. The film does not shy away from this discomfort, nor does it soften its imagery. For that reason, comparisons to last year’s Sinners feel misguided and reductive. Night Patrol operates in a far more confrontational and politically charged register.
Final Bites
Night Patrol ultimately feels like two films sharing the same body, with neither fully realized. Depending on taste, viewers may connect strongly with either its grounded social commentary or its heightened genre spectacle, but rarely both at once.
If explosions, ultra-violence, and comic-book-styled righteousness appeal to you, this film may be worth your time. Just approach with caution, awareness of potential triggers, and tempered expectations regarding narrative cohesion. What Night Patrol lacks in structural balance, it compensates for with ambition, urgency, and a refusal to play safe.
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