If I had any public beef with the flick, and I have no problem airing it after championing the movie pre-release, it would be with the editing style. It’s unfortunately chopped together with some pretty quick-cut moments from a bunch of angles, but I think both of Neil Marshall’s previous flicks (I haven’t seen Combat) were built with some of that, as well, so I can’t say I didn’t expect it.
I generally don’t approve of chicks punching dudes and not breaking their fists and every other bone in their body, but Rhona Mitra is a pretty great badass broad. She looks like maybe, just maybe, in the glimmer of hope’s eye, she could take a straight punch to the face and then make a wiseass remark about it. She can also do this without being like “Oh, hey, what’s up I’m a girl and I’m tough, did you notice?”
Star of the movie outside of Malcolm McDowell (who has had two huge roles in the last year—Halloween and Doomsday—the latter being the better movie): Craig Conway. I could have most definitely used some more time in his king-of-the-cannibals world. His stage show alone kind of blew my mind, and the way that he ended every scene by screaming in exasperated despair was perfect.
It’s 5:14am and I’m completely rambling at this point. After the movie, Pat and I went to a karaoke bar and it was, no joke, borderline professional singer night or something. I eventually did a duet of this Blackstreet song with an absolutely incredible singer.
Let that stew in you for a bit!