Not content with being one of the most foul-mouthed movies of even these modern times, this is an amazingly miscalculated spoof horror/black comedy, with a wildly miscast Nicolas Cage (looking like British TV host Jonathan Ross) as a young executive who compulsively bites bar-girls and goes completely round the bend when one of them bites him in the neck. The fire of madness in his diminished marbles is further fuelled by the appearance of a bat in his flat. Before you can say Nosferatu, Cage is lurching around the New York streets eating insects and pigeons, biting people in the neck, and inviting passers-by to kill him with a stake through the heart. Viewers will find it hard to tell when the film is trying to be funny and the repulsive and violent nature of Cage's affliction will, in any case, make laughter hard to summon. Cage is grotesque: come to think of it, Jonathan Ross could probably have done it better.

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