This yoof-courting take on Zola's Thérèse Raquin bigs up the humping and wisecracks, and represents heroine Elizabeth Olsen's entrapment with images of corsetry and barred windows that rarely venture beyond the obvious. Sporadically, its cheek works – Shirley Henderson and Matt Lucas offer droll support – yet it's imprisoned by its own glibness, grabbing for sensation over emotion, and looking silly whenever it misses: Olsen's performance is one long, breathy gasp, while mad aunt Jessica Lange succumbs to conniptions over cowpats. The poison slips down easily enough, but it's diet cola when set against 2009's Korean vampire movie Thirst, still this book's most potent screen translation.