The Blood Beast Terror

Peter Cushing called it the worst film he ever made, and he was being generous. A Victorian entomologist's daughter is, through a plot best not examined, a giant were-moth who drains men of blood, and the monster works only in the wide shots where you cannot see it.

It is bottom-tier British gothic, stiff and cheap, and its reputation rests almost entirely on Cushing's dismissal of it. There is a certain fascination in watching consummate professionals soldier through obvious nonsense.

For gothic completists and Cushing obsessives only.