DOOMSDAY

Directed by Neil Marshall

Starring: Rhona Mitra, Bob Hoskins, some other people

The first people to feel the negative effects of living in a post-Apocalyptic world are always those who appreciate a nice cardigan.

For some reason, it seems that whether the world ends with an atomic bang or a snuffly, pandemic-induced whimper, the second thing to go out of the window - after the desiccated corpses of your former nearest and dearest - is an interest in nice clothing.

It’s true. Have you, in the last 30 years, seen a single post-Holocaust movie in which anyone wore anything even vaguely normal? It’s like John Paul Galliano has designed the end of days. The moment you hear that Avian Flu has metamorphosised into a global population thinner, nip up to the bedroom and cut the arse out of all your leather trousers. Go on. You’ll thank me if you survive the cull.

So, Doomsday ticks all the correct boxes for appropriate end of the world wear. Oddly, it’s pretty much the same clothing, and the same automobiles, and same nihilistic attitude to life that prevails in the Mad Max movies. This is mildly perplexing, given that Mad Max is set in sunny Australia, whilst Doomsday’s murderous fashionistas are forced to skulk behind a massive wall in rainy, cold, miserable Scotland. But that’s fashion.

There is a plot to this film. Twenty years earlier, a deadly virus (Reaper) sweeps through Scotland, killing lots of people and really annoying the rest. The simplest solution is to wall-off Scotland, thus containing the nasty germs and finally giving the Scots that ‘closure’ they’ve been seeking since the Battle of Culloden.

Unfortunately, 20 years later the disease turns up again in London. London, by now, is no longer the ‘des res’ it once was, having become somewhat of a super-slum.

But never mind that, back to the plot. It turns out that not all the hardy Scots have died. There are survivors, so there must be a cure. There must a million ways to contact the survivors, and simply ask ‘how are you?’ but only one plan occurs to beleaguered UK government. This involves getting a super-tough woman who looks fantastic in lycra to nip over the quarantine wall with some soldiers and find out what keeps the Scots going.

Rhona Mitra does a fabulous job of filling out the catsuit while offing mad Jocks who now come in two varieties: Galliano-clad Mad Max extras on a world tour, and escapees from the cast of Monty Python and the Holy Grail’s medieval monstrosities.

There’s blood. O God there’s blood. And shouting, plenty of that also. Car chases, gladiatorial combat, and cannibalism are all in strong supply. And you get Bob Hoskins (awww!) who’s really been in a bit of a downward spiral since Roger Rabbit. Doomsday doesn’t look like it’s going to kick start that career again Bob.

This is a good film if you like chase movies that involve lycra and mad-looking cars.  Take popcorn and a few pals. Do not, under any circumstances, use this as a first date movie.