Planet terror

After the critical and box- office catastrophe that was Quentin Tarantino's Death Proof, the bloody remains of Grindhouse staggers into town entirely unburdened by expectations.

As you may recall, the two films - scratched and blotched to sustain the flea-pit aesthetic - once formed a camp double bill that confused (small) audiences up and down the US. Stripped of its context, Death Proof looked like terribly thin stuff and sank equally quickly on its European release.

Robert Rodriguez, though sporadically entertaining, has, unlike Tarantino, rarely had the word genius flung at him. Perhaps this explains why his agreeably moronic horror film seems that bit less disappointing than its predecessor. Detailing events surrounding the accidental release of a biological weapon that turns Texans into zombies, Planet Terror moves at a cracking pace, finds endlessly horrible things to do with pustules, and features at least three fine jokes that could stand tall in a proper comedy. Yes, the dialogue is fairly ropy. So what? It's not as if it's written by Quentin Tarantino or anything.

A summary of the plot is barely possible. Suffice to say it somehow manages to take in satires of Mexican soap operas, Italian zombie flicks and 1970s disaster movies.

All of this would, of course, be too arch for words if the film did not have some internal momentum of its own. Thankfully, the actors - notably Josh Brolin as a troubled doctor and Marley Shelton as his feisty wife - manage the tricky act of, at least, pretending to pretend to take it seriously.

Despite the soupy colours that nicely replicate the look of indifferently graded celluloid, Planet Terror is never entirely compromised by the director's need to nod towards days spent chewing popcorn in the Austin Picture Emporium. Indeed, the distributors could have got

away with including a few more allusions to the grindhouse.

Only one of the hilarious parody trailers (the one by Rodriguez) that juiced up the double bill is included with this release. Prepare to send angry e-mails if they don't all reappear on DVD. DONALD CLARKE