Planet Terror

Apparently it was all Robert Rodriguez's fault. Planet Terror was shit they said, and that's why Grindhouse bombed. Not so. Planet Terror is a riot, every bit as much fun as Death Proof. The failure of Grindhouse was down to bad marketing. It's hard to imagine anyone watching this and not being thoroughly enthused for the second part of the double bill. If anything, Planet Terror feels closer to the sleazy, ramshackle, drive-in muck-fest that both films intended, and Death Proof is actually quite clean and sober in comparison – the missing reel here is exactly that, meaning we lose about ten minutes of action and cut from a sex scene straight to the building being on fire. And even though we don't get the full gallery of fake trailers, there's some compensation in the form of Rodriguez's own teaser for the might-really-get-made Machete, starring Danny Trejo as a hit-man out for revenge: "Set up, double crossed and left for dead. But they soon realise… they just fucked with the wrong Mexican." Sublime. But the feature presentation is a glorious, plot free clatter through the very best things a comedy horror can offer, all smeared with astonishing levels of violence and gore. Bruce Willis is some army dude who unleashes a virus, Rodriguez (Freddy not Robert) is the badass hero and McGowan is his ex who gets her leg replaced by a machine gun. And there are zombies. Lots of zombies. If you've ever wanted to see Tarantino's knob rot and fall off, this is the film for you. [Paul Greenwood]