Cinema: Blood Pudding

Terrible-eyed, a father rose up from his coffin one night last week, rushed after his beautiful young daughter and with bloodthirsty screams attempted to sink his fangs into her throat. Poor stiff. Some other vampire, succubus, lamia, boggart, barghest, uturuncu or related fee-faw-fum had already drunk the poor girl dry. The U.S., as summer moviegoers may have observed, is crawling with the bloody things. The horror industry is in the hideous throes of what may be the biggest necromantic revival since Count Dracula was a nipper.

Monsters are out. After almost a decade of gigantic grasshoppers, monstrous mollusks and vicious vegetables, the...

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