Doomsday

Dear Neil Marshall. You have the makings of a tip top director and no mistake. The Descent, was a thrillingly original horror and one of the best films of 2005. Dog Soldiers, your lycanthropic debut was heaps of fun. Oh Neil! Where did it all go wrong? As an entertainment, Doomsday ranks somewhere between sixth generation ‘I fucked Matt Damon’ riffs and watching a drunk on the street lose control over their bodily functions.
I blame comic books and video games. It’s not your fault that direct lifts from Resident Evil and popular graphic serials look as awful on the big screen as they are fantastic within their own media. On paper a post-apocalyptic Scotland forced behind a high tech Hadrian’s Wall to protect the rest of Britain from a killer virus must have seemed like a great idea. Sadly, this great idea has already informed 28 Days Later and its sequel.
This brings us to a much larger problem. There isn’t a single thing in your movie, a single shot, a single idea, a single cannibalistic mutant, that we haven’t seen done before and better. Frankly, George Miller would be well within his rights to sue for certain embarrassing similarities to Mad Max. Perhaps you realised as much. Perhaps that is why we are subjected to the film’s sudden shifts in the second and third acts. Didn’t you know that moving the action from dystopian future to a maggoty Medieval serfdom poobahed by Malcolm McDowell would be a tad jarring? Didn’t you know that turning the entire third act into a glossy car commercial would not make for a satisfactory denouement?
Your leading lady, Rhona Mitra, kick started her career with large breast implants as a model for Lara Croft. Her central performance in Doomsday is as poor as that pedigree suggests. To be fair, even Cate Blanchett would struggle to stay composed against a backdrop that makes Pamela Anderson’s Barb Wire look cool. I may not know what the future holds but I’m pretty sure it won’t look like a 1985 Motley Crue video.
Must try harder, Neil...