Doomsday
Neil Marshall’s mash note to ’80s post-apocalyptic action adventures re-creates the era’s trashy pleasures with such scrupulous fidelity – and distinct lack of irony – that you’d swear the movie was unearthed from the ruins of a Times Square grindhouse. Despite the Snake Plisskenette heroine (Mitra), the vibe is more Corman than Carpenter, with Marshall treating the New World Pictures aesthetic – topless henchwomen! gonzo explosions! gore in excelsis! – as gospel. It’s a blatant slab of Britsploitation aimed at lad-mag subscribers; that a specific generation of American genre addicts will be giddy over this is undeniable. David Fear
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