This B-movie may have more holes than a pound of Swiss cheese, yet somehow still manages to be entertaining, thanks largely to a nicely off-centre performance by Krige. And, hey, a range of spectacular and gory deaths do no harm either, including perhaps the first cinematic killing by corn-cob. Krige and her "son" Charles (Krause) - though the relationship is creepily incestual - play perhaps the last two titular creatures, who live on energy sucked from human victims. This diet, understandably, means their lifestyle is nomadic, and the film joins them as they arrive in a new town. Hunky Charles sets his sights on the lovely Tanya, though not in the way she's hoping, but the Sleepwalkers' aversion to felines soon brings trouble down on their heads.
The film sacrifices most logic in the quest for a good scare - for example, the monsters' true form can be seen in a mirror, but bizarrely, their clothes don't show up in it either. And it is a bit of a plot stretch to have a local sheriff's deputy driving round with a convenient cat in the patrol car. However, it moves at such a quick pace that these are of little consequence, plus I'm inclined to forgive such flaws when it's uncompromisingly twisted. Not to mention Krige is entirely convincing as a creature from...well, where exactly is never made clear, but it isn't really important. Think of this as a campfire tale with celebrity cameos (Stephen King, who wrote the book and screenplay, plus Clive Barker, Tobe Hooper and John Landis), and you'll have a fun time.