Of course by now the whole Grindhouse story is old hat. Both this film and its spiritual brother, Death Proof have been
released to disappointing box office figures. This will no doubt be accredited to the two directors’ folly in making these grandiose homages to seventies exploitation rather than to the fact that maybe audiences were disillusioned by the shabby way they had been treated combined with the films being given only a very limited release. Whatever the case, it is a shame that so much resentment and controversy has arisen around these films because they deserve much better – especially Planet Terror.

Robert Rodriguez has always been a flamboyant director who works from the heart and his own passion rather than from a notion of the ‘right’ way of doing things and that has never been so apparent as in this film. Whereas Tarantino’s Death proof was a very sedate, talky affair which hid some complex sexual politics behind its veneer of apparently shallow female ass-kickery this film is an explosion of utter excess. Everything is ramped up to the max whether it makes sense or not. The only thing that matters to Rodriguez is whether it is cool or not, logic has no place here and the only way to watch this film is by taking the same approach.

Take Cherry Darling for example, the film’s one-legged go-go dancing poster girl. Not only is she hot as hell and a criminally sexy dancer, not only is she a hard as nails female action-hero but she also has a machine gun instead of a leg. Now, although anybody who has even glimpsed at the poster will know that it features a girl with a machine gun instead of a leg it really has to be seen in context to fully appreciate the full incredible absurd awesomeness of a girl with a machine gun instead of a leg. It really is just fucking insane – at one point she launches herself into the air and over a fence by shooting a grenade at the floor for Christ’s sake! How does she even pull the damn trigger? The answer to this question is of course, as it is to any question about Planet Terror, ‘it doesn’t matter’ or to put it another way – get the hell out and stop asking such stupid questions you damn fool, I’m watching that bloke from Lost have a gun fight with Bruce Willis while they try not to slip on the severed human testicles that cover the floor.

All of this ridiculous extravagance hangs on an appropriately ludicrous plot about some military experiment gone awry leading to the release of a gas which has the unfortunate effect of turning its victims into zombies. Of course this being Planet Terror these aren’t your average decomposing shufflers, nope - these guys are steadily melting pus filled human haemorrhages who explode into clouds of gore when shot. Lovely. Thrown into this are a bunch of characters as preposterous as they are colourful and entertaining. There’s the local diner owner for example, who faced with flat-out armageddon is still more concerned with perfecting his prize-winning barbeque sauce than the squad of mutating squaddies laying waste to his town.
 Or there’s the hot female anaesthesiologist who is a crack shot with a syringe (which she keeps in her garter belt naturally) and is conducting a lesbian affair behind her insane husband’s back. Then, of course there’s El Wray (Freddy Rodriguez), who may not be the tallest man on the planet but just may be the baddest bad-ass on the planet. When he shoots he never misses and as one character admiringly remarks, “that boy’s got the devil in him’. Robert Rodriguez has also assembled an awesome ensemble cast to play these various misfits including Michael Biehn, Jeff Fahey, Josh Brolin and…erm Quentin Tarantino (playing a very unpleasant fellow indeed who gets an equally unpleasant comeuppance).

As well as all the horrific grue, action-tastic gunfights and super sexy go-go dancing is a constant undercurrent of such good natured humour and enthusiasm that even when some of the darker plot points occur, an incident concerning a small boy (played by Rodriguez’s own son pretty much by necessity) and a firearm which definitely probes at its audience’s taste boundaries for example, it is damn near impossible to not be swept along in its demented wake. In fact, it is not an exaggeration to say that at its best Planet Terror contributes some of the funniest moments in the genre’s entire history.

It may have suffered a troublesome time with its incarnations on the big screen but there is no doubt that Planet Terror will find its true home on DVD safely away from box office receipts and opening weekends. This film is not a genre film, this film is the genre. Rodriguez has such genuine love and appreciation for what he is doing that he makes Tarantino’s enthusiasm look like cold-blooded cynicism. This film was truly made for genre fans and as such it certainly doesn’t disappoint. Thank you Mr. Rodriguez, thank you very much.

Rating: 9/10

Review By Matt Compton