Review Category: DVD/Blu Ray

Review: I Spit on Your Grave 2 / Cert: 18 / Director: Steven R. Monroe / Screenplay: Neil Elman and Thomas Fenton / Starring: Jemma Dallender, Joe Absolom, Aleksandar Aleksiev, Yavor Baharov / Release Date: October 7th 

To date the I Spit on Your Grave films have received notoriously bad press, each condemned by leading film critic Roger Ebert, amongst others. Perhaps only the passing of the stalwart of film criticism saved Steven R. Monroe from a second critical lashing, because somewhere looking down upon us, Ebert is passing an unfavourable, yet justified judgement.

Model Katie (Jemma Dallender) is raped, tortured and abducted, before escaping to seek revenge on her assailants.

With a bare bones, non-existent narrative, at 100 minutes I Spit on Your Grave 2 outstays its welcome. The filmmakers fundamentally miscue on the construction of this revenge-exploitation thriller, depriving us of the protagonist’s rebirth following her physical and emotional destruction, the suffering outweighing the retribution.

I Spit on Your Grave 2 wallows in absurdity, as the smuggling of their victim out of the country to conceal their crime plunges the film headlong into the ludicrous. Whilst Steven R. Monroe returned to the director’s chair for sentimental reasons, which would prove unwise, the axe of blame should fall squarely on the necks of writers Neil Elman and Thomas Fenton. The script is infatuated with the nastiness of rape and physical abuse, and is lazy in the absence of any attempt to at least attempt to offer a reflection on the subject at its heart: revenge.

For all the controversy of Straw Dogs‘ notorious rape scene, the film remains a reflection of the ideologies of its director Sam Peckinpah. It explores the individual’s relationship to violence and the necessity of violence for survival. Whilst this reflection is embedded in the film’s subtext, I Spit on Your Grave 2 asks you to attempt to find a reason to celebrate it by projecting meaning and metaphor onto it where none exists.

I Spit on Your Grave 2 may be best described as an absurd satirical sketch of America’s psychological mind-set. It depicts America’s internal and external angst towards “the other.” Vilifying the rest of the world and opening up old wounds and suspicions, it positions itself as the victim of the world’s cruelty, and the all too common xenophobia of “the other.” Only this time it is on American soil and abroad; its citizens under fire at home as well as abroad; the threat now internal and external. The influence of 9/11 and America struggling to deal with the hostility following a change in foreign policy post World War Two frames I Spit on Your Grave 2 as the current cinematic depiction of its scarred consciousness.

Monroe’s sequel is a film produced for financial reasons as opposed to artistic merit. Inevitably it exploits those who enable such films to turn a profit and plague those of us with some sensibility to the pointlessness of violence and the plain nasty provocation with which they leave their mark; another tawdry franchise to endure.

Review: The Conspiracy Cert: 18 / Director: Christopher MacBride / Screenplay: Christopher MacBride / Starring: Aaron Poole, James Gilbert / Release Date: October 14th

Whether ambitious is the right word, Christopher MacBride’s feature debut offers what is an interesting exploration of the distinction between reality and fiction, which lies at the heart of cinema. The Conspiracy’s pseudo-documentary aesthetic is likely to dissuade a good many from giving it even a chance, owing to the over-saturation of the sub-genre within contemporary film. In the hands of MacBride it is used with purpose, not a stylish flourish but an aesthetic that is integral to the film itself, to tell the story of two filmmakers who stumble upon a secret society whilst making a documentary on conspiracy theories.

The Conspiracy is an immersive piece of filmmaking, compelling even in moments. It functions on various layers, leaving one to question whether it is a con or whether it is making us complicit in its enquiry, or rather the filmmaker’s point of enquiry?

These are fitting questions to consider and ask silently as the images roll by on the screen. The Conspiracy is a film that intentionally provokes its audience and pursues an audience willing to hypothesise, willing to ask the question “What if?” It is a film that provokes the inquisitive nature of its audience, directing us to question the authenticity of information, and even re-consider what we think we know about our own history.

MacBride imbues the film with a certain emphasis on subjectivity: the subjectivity of the pseudo-documentarians, the subjectivity of how individuals view information, observe patterns, and extends beyond subjectivity to the influence of human bias and our propensity to distort fact.

There is a daunting moment in The Conspiracy where the very fabric of our certainty and faith in cold hard facts is shattered. It is a horrific realisation. Sometimes horror is not supernatural, it’s not home invaders or possessed Good Guy Dolls, but rather it is the horror of realising a truth that we adopt ignorance as a defence mechanism. The Conspiracy is a wakeup call, asserting that cinema transcends simple entertainment.

The exploration of the world of conspiracy, looking in the shadows eventually intersects with a dramatised conclusion, at which point The Conspiracy becomes Eyes Wide Shut meets the pseudo-documentary. The set-up and the conflict are arguably more compelling than the film’s conclusion, a sign of MacBride’s youthful inexperience perhaps in his struggle to satisfactorily conclude his film.

Look again, and perhaps this is a further example of MacBride’s skill, as he brings out the falsehood of the recording of facts within documentary through a collision with a fevered dramatisation.

The Conspiracy is an accomplished feature debut, and it is clear to see MacBride’s interest in documentary and its influence on his debut feature. Successfully intertwining documentary and drama here, it will be a point of interest to see how he fuses these two influences together as he moves forward and compromises them owing to their perceived polarising functions.

Expected Rating: 6 out of 10

Actual Rating:

Review: V/H/S/ 2/ Cert: 18 / Directors: Various / Screenplay: Various / Starring: Lawrence Michael Levine, Kelsey Abbott, L.C. Holt / Release Date: October 14th

Under the stewardship of V/H/S and ABCs of Death – not to forget Britain’s Little Thrills – the horror anthology or portmanteau, an integral part of a ‘Heritage of Horror’, is undergoing a resurgence. V/H/S, though, had proven to be a divisive film, the Marmite of horror cinema that provoked a love-hate relationship. 

The trick to creating a successful anthology film is the consistency of the sum of its parts, as the cyclic nature of its construct is a doubled edged blade. On the one hand it permits an opportunity to feature a series of ideas through mini horror shorts, but if lacking the said consistency, it can deliver blunt force trauma to the audience’s focus and interest.

Whilst V/H/S/2 should be judged on its own merits, it is difficult not to compare and contrast to understand its weaknesses. Wingard and Barrett’s  ‘Phase I Clinical Trial’ and Eisener’s  ‘Slumber Party Alien Abduction’ that bookend the sequel pale in comparison to their predecessors, and Barrett and Wingard, who are riding the You’re Next high, display their creative frailty. Moreover, Barrett’s ‘Tape 49’ private investigators are a mundane thread compared to ‘Tape 56’s unsympathetic but surprisingly interesting hooligans.

V/H/S/2 struggles to match the creative ideas of V/H/S, but owes a debt of gratitude to newcomers Gareth Evans and Timo Tjahjanto, whose  ‘Safe Haven’ is the high point amongst the faltering sequel. The two do however break away from the V/H/S norm by creating more of a narrative, though still adhere to the idea of the presentation of a fragment of a wider story.

It’s not a detrimental addition to the anthology that will most likely expand into a fully-fledged franchise, but the inevitable V/H/S/3 will be charged with restoring a consistency, not only between the individual episodes, but a restoration of the series to the creativity of the first.

Ironically, V/H/S/2 feels the better paced of the two, each story limited to twenty minutes, whereas V/H/S had its pacing struggles, particularly the early stories, long for what they were. Equally, the use of the camera point of view is smoothed out in the sequel, the voyeuristic gaze of the camera more believable.

In or out of the shadow of V/H/S, the sequel is a pedestrian effort, warranting only a single viewing. Minus ‘Safe Haven’, there is little to recommend in what is chalked up as another disappointing sequel.

Extras: TBC

Review: Little Deaths / Cert: 18 / Director: Sean Hogan, Andrew Parkinson, Simon Rumley / Screenplay: Sean Hogan, Andrew Parkinson, Simon Rumley / Starring: James Oliver Wheatley, Siubhan Harrison / Release Date: Out Now 

Little Deaths is a British horror anthology film consisting of three different horrific tales by three prominent horror directors – Sean Hogan (Summer’s Blood, The Devil’s Business), Andrew Parkinson (I, Zombie) and Simon Rumley (Red, White and Blue). These stories include tales of rape, cannibalism, bondage and mutilation.

The first film in this horrific anthology is ‘House and Home’ by Sean Hogan. This segment features a strange, religious, middle class couple with different “tastes” who stalk a homeless woman and persuade her to return to their home for some good food and a hot bath. However, their intentions are not as they seem. The scene at the dinner table, filled with exaggerated and disorientating close ups, exemplifies Hogan’s wonderful direction and imagination. Hogan finishes this film with a shocking ending and a surprise twist.

The second segment of this gruesome anthology is ‘Mutant Tool’ by Andrew Parkinson. This film is centered around a young woman, an ex-drug addict and prostitute, who begins to see terrible things when she touches people. Parkinson’s film is the least captivating of the three tales. He shows some interesting ideas but the story isn’t told effectively enough.

The third film, ‘Bitch’ by Simon Rumley, is quite simply a strange and disturbing tiny masterpiece. With an effective and prominent use of handheld camera, Rumley presents a young couple’s strained relationship and the strange sexual methods they use to make things better. The ending is horrifically brutal yet incredibly inventive.

What is so brilliant about all three films is how unexpected all of their endings are. These three directors manage to completely surprise and deliver gruesome shocks. Little Deaths is a wonderful yet horrific collection of horror stories by three esteemed and promising directors. This anthology puts many mainstream horrors to shame.

Extras: Directors Commentaries, Behind the Scenes Featurette

Review: Bag of Bones / Cert: 15 / Director: Mick Garris / Screenplay: Matt Venne / Starring: Pierce Brosnan, Annabeth Gish, Melissa George / Release Date: Out Now

Stephen King adaptations have always been a mixed bag. For every The Shining or Misery, there’s a dozen Maximum Overdrives and Children of the Corn sequels. As a general rule, it’s the medium length novels and novellas that tend to work best. The Shawshank Redemption, The Body (filmed as Stand By Me) and Carrie have all produced excellent movies. The short story adaptations have, almost without fail, suffered from having too little enough plot to merit being stretched out to feature length, and his epic novels tend to suffer from the opposite problem. Novels like IT, The Tommyknockers and The Stand have labyrinth plots, which even the longer approach afforded by a TV adaptation tend to just scratch the surface of.

Bag of Bones falls firmly into the latter category. Clocking in at just over 500 pages, it is far from the author’s longest work, but it’s a densely plotted ghost story that struggles to fit into a two part adaptation.

The tale concerns successful author Mike Noonan (Brosnan), who is struggling to cope emotionally and suffering writer’s block following the death of his wife (Gish). He relocates to their summer home in Maine, only to find that the past is literally haunting him. It soon becomes apparent that Noonan isn’t alone in the house: the spirit of his wife and/or something more malevolent may be with him. Noonan also becomes friendly with a local widow (George) and her daughter, in the process making an enemy of her vindictive millionaire father-in-law Max Devore. All of these goings on are somehow tied up in a mystery involving his late wife’s visits to the town, a series of deaths, and Sara, a blues singer from the 1930s.

This is familiar territory for Stephen King. He’s written about authors, Maine and ghosts on many occasions. Bag of Bones though is mid-order King, by no means bad, but not in the same league as his many classics. Likewise, the adaptation, although far from being one of the worst adaptations of the author’s work, is also far from the best.

Brosnan is the mini-series’ greatest asset. Cast against type, the former James Bond is fully believable as a grieving widower. He’s less convincing however in the scenes acting with unseen spirits, which occasionally border on hammy. Melissa George and the X-Files’ Annabeth Gish both do well with their limited screen time, but the supporting acting honours go to Broadway star Anika Noni Rose, who shines in her brief role as the tragic Sara.

The talented cast are, however, let down by an uninspired script which fails to adequately compress the novel’s plot, and the show lacks any kind of real atmosphere. Director Mick Garris has adapted King before: he helmed the unnecessary The Shining remake as well as The Stand and the appalling Sleepwalkers. Here he offers minimal scares, with the haunting scenes suffering from a hokiness that even Brosnan’s spirited performance can’t sell. Some of the more violent scenes, including the sudden death of a main character, and a brutal attack on another, are well handled, but lack the shock value of the corresponding scenes in the book.

Like the book it’s based on, Bag of Bones is solid but rather uninspired, competent but short on atmosphere and scares. There are worse Stephen King adaptations, but several vastly superior ones. If you’re after a truly creepy Stephen King film, you’re probably better off watching The Shining again.

Extras: Deleted Scenes

Review: Laserblast / Cert: 15 / Director: Michael Rae / Screenplay: Franne Schacht, Frank Ray Perilli / Starring Kim Milford, Keenan Wynn, Roddy McDowall / Release Date: Out Now

A man staggers through the desert, face and eyes an ugly shade of teal. Attached to his forearm is something that resembles a squashed Dyson. And – we’ve saved the worst for last – he’s wearing flared jeans. If you remember anything at all about Laserblast (1978) after seeing it, it will probably be that image. Or perhaps the aliens who look like tortoises.

That’s right, folks, welcome to the world of low-budget 1970s science fiction. The setting is a sleepy town in Nevada. Our hero, Billy (Milford), is a disgruntled teen who takes a drive out into the scrub and finds a laser cannon abandoned after an alien shootout, complete with a small power pack that he can hang around his neck. It promises to be a great antidote to his boredom, but unfortunately the thing triggers a personality change, turning him into a homicidal nutter who goes around torching cars and, eventually, people. It also spreads alien verdigris across his chest – nasty! What with there being a top secret military base nearby, it’s only a matter of time before the government gets involved, the town is sealed off and there’s a manhunt.

Actually, typed up in a few sentences, the plot doesn’t sound all that bad, but trust us, it’s the way they tell it. The film strolls along, padded out with aimless chitchat (there’s a pool party), teen drama (there’s a fight at the pool party) and humour at the expense of two local redneck cops (the best moments by far). Later on, when we get to the meat of the story, gaping holes in the continuity emerge as budgetary restraints kick in and scenes are cobbled together with insufficient footage. Two-thirds of the way along, the film wanders into the desert and never really comes out again.

Meanwhile, Roddy McDowall and Keenan Wynn appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. Wynn does his cantankerous oldster thing, and McDowall hardly has time to pick up a pair of forceps (he plays a doctor) before he’s perishing in a flaming car-wreck. Bye, Roddy, till the next cameo.

What saves the movie, to some extent, is its dustily effective location cinematography, and its lazy small town vibe. Oh, and let’s not forget the aliens who look like tortoises (it’s their fault, by the way, that the laser cannon is left lying around in the desert). They’re depicted using stop motion and back projection techniques that must have looked seriously ropey even back then, and connoisseurs of dodgy SFX will particularly enjoy their space ship, which wobbles to Earth like a flying TV dinner. 88 Films are doing a bang-up job of bringing obscure cult offerings to DVD, but sometimes obscurity is the kindest fate.

Extras: Original Trailer

 

 

Review: Star Trek Into Darkness / Cert: 12 / Director: J.J. Abrams / Screenplay: Roberto Orci, Alex Kurtzman / Starring: Chris Pine, Zachary Quinto, Zoe Saldana, Benedict Cumberbatch, Simon Pegg, Karl Urban / Release Date: September 2nd

The rebooted world of Abrams’ Star Trek is now in full flow. Free of the confines of setting up this new universe, Into Darkness kicks straight off with the action and doesn’t let up.

When John Harrison (Cumberbatch) declares a one man war on Starfleet, it’s up to Kirk (Pine) and his crew to follow him to the Klingon home-world and kill him – a very un-Starfleet thing to do – in revenge. Kirk decides instead to capture the fugitive and bring him home to face justice, a decision that he does not take lightly and which has serious repercussions for the Enterprise and its crew.

Most people will know the twist by now, but we won’t ruin it in case you don’t. While it was never going to be that much of a surprise, the way it’s handled is testament to the writing of Orci and Kurtzman. The main players all put in a good shift, with special mention to Urban’s continuous, almost perfect rendition of McCoy. Pine’s Kirk, however, is in danger of becoming an almost one-dimensional playboy who gets to play with very big, expensive toys, though we’re sure that his character will grow with the upcoming third film.

There are some nice touches, such as the inclusion of a Tribble, the dreadnaught-class attack ship, and our first look at the new style Klingons, who are surely going to be the villains in the next film. Overall, it is the next logical step for a franchise that had seemingly run out of steam, and steadfast purists aside, there should not be anything here that alienates anyone. If anything, it should introduce a whole new generation to the stories and characters.

To many, the Star Trek universe has been impenetrable, a more cerebral science fiction saga that is an almost direct opposite to the Star Wars universe, but with Abrams – and his always present lens flare – the series has taken a much more action-packed direction. If they can destroy the planet Vulcan and put a new twist on an old, much loved character here, then all bets are off as to what happens next. Instead of disappearing into darkness, it appears the franchise has a bright future.

Extras: The Enemy of My Enemy / Ship to Ship

Review: Power Rangers Samurai – The Ultimate Duel / PG / Director: Various / Screenplay: Various / Starring: Alex Heartman, Erika Fong, Hector David, Jr / Release Date: Out Now

Finally, after two decades they’re free; time to conquer earth! In the same year in which the original Rangers show celebrates its twentieth anniversary, the DVD release of Power Rangers Samurai: The Ultimate Duel looks to further solidify the franchise’s place in pop culture. Spoiler warning; it’s not exactly a smooth ride.

The DVD is a collection of three episodes from the second season of Samurai, building up to and then dealing with Jayden the Red Ranger’s ultimate showdown with the misunderstood antagonist Deker. Though the episodes move at a blistering speed, enough to keep the attention of any child, the build-up to the final showdown does not feel rushed at all – the narrative is perfectly paced and complemented with a wonderful amount of excitement, humour, and tension. There is also a level of continuity not present in the early Rangers incarnations, an example of the franchise’s willingness to adapt to the developing needs of a more media-savvy generation.

In other regards, however, the episodes are rather disappointing. Though the action is shot to evoke the crisp and vibrant nature of a comic book, the dramatic elements look and feel like a muted telenovela. Whilst the actors perform admirably when wearing the samurai suits, their hammy acting and apathetic demeanour outside of them will make you think you’re watching a high school play. The props are just as inconsistent – where the villains are as crazy and detailed as usual, the Rangers’ power discs look like cheap plastic toys, and their samurai swords wobble like the foam they are made of.

It’s the same story with the two seasonal extras on the disc: a Halloween episode that channels the cherished Batman: TAS story Almost Got ‘Im (though without the satisfying twist ending) and a Christmas clips episode. Both seem to have been thrown onto the disc rather haphazardly as they don’t complement the main feature in any way, the clips episode in particular seeming rather cynical.

That said, the main story makes this collection more than worth a purchase. Though it can be somewhat difficult to watch in a post-Pacific Rim world, the narrative full of simple messages and ethical lessons could serve as a useful teaching tool for any parent. And for those wishing to recapture the child-like wonderment of twenty years ago, there are plenty of chances for that, too.

Extras: Two extra episodes

Review: Amazonia – The Catherine Miles Story / Cert: 18 / Director: Mario Gariazzo / Screenplay: Franco Prosperi / Starring: Will Gonzales, Elvire Audray / Release Date: September 16th

Evolving from the sensationalist “mondo” pseudo-documentaries of the ’60s, cannibal movies and jungle horrors positively spewed out of the Italian exploitation industry in the late ’70s and early ’80s. Amazonia: The Catherine Miles Story (aka White Slave) dates from the tail-end of the wave. 18-year-old Catherine (Audray) returns from boarding school in England to be with her Mum and Dad, wealthy plantation owners who live in the Amazon. Unfortunately, on an excursion by houseboat to an unexplored region of the forest, her parents are murdered with poisoned darts, and Catherine is taken prisoner by a tribe of head-hunters. You just know a grass skirt beckons.

In quick order, the prim Catherine is sold by the chief to one of his tribesmen in exchange for a pig and a turtle. When she tries to escape, she is mistreated and violated with a bamboo dildo. (“Later,” she explains, “I understood that what these savages did to me was not considered to be an act of defilement and torture but rather a religious ceremony and a cause for celebration.” Oh, no biggie then. ) It’s all a massive culture shock, but eventually she comes to understand their language and their strange customs. (For instance, when women are menstruating, they have to sleep in a tree.) And then there’s Umukai (Gonzales), the best hunter in the tribe. There’s no question that he makes a bad first impression by chopping off both of her parents’ heads, but he also shows a softer side by lending her some primitive insect repellent, and it doesn’t hurt that if you squint he looks a bit like Ashton Kutcher.

Despite its late date and the technicality that the tribe are head-hunters, not cannibals, this is a bona fide entry in the subgenre, one that flaunts its mondo/travelogue roots in various ways. The script by Franco Prosperi (who had credits on White Cannibal Queen and Cannibal Holocaust II) frames the whole thing as a true story ripped from the headlines (although it wasn’t), with snippets of Catherine’s gasped-out testimony at a subsequent trial being heard in voice-over. Meanwhile, the film is intercut with random footage of wild animals being beastly, in particular some rather startling shots of a panther pouncing on a brocket deer and a monkey. The location cinematography is picturesque, the SFX are fun and theatrically gory and Audray (who had already played a prehistoric hottie in Umberto Lenzi’s Ironmaster, so was presumably used to this kind of thing) is solidly convincing as the sloane turned jungle vixen. Not the best of its kind, but cannibal fanciers will find it well worth a nibble.

Extras: Original Trailer / Alternative Title Sequence

Review: Doctor Who – Scream of the Shalka / Cert: 15 / Director: Wilson Milam / Screenplay: Paul Cornell / Starring: Richard E. Grant, Derek Jacobi, Sophie Okonedo, Craig Kelly, Anna Calder-Marshall / Release Date: September 16th

It’s sobering to remember, as we canter towards Doctor Who’s fiftieth anniversary celebrations in November, that the series wasn’t always the darling of the BBC it’s become since the 2005 resurrection. Just ten years ago, fans faced the very dismal prospect of commemorating the show’s fortieth birthday with little more than a few paperback books and the odd DVD release from the glory days. Certainly it seemed that few at the BBC gave much of a damn about this relic of a bygone TV age; the much-hyped 1996 over-Americanised Paul McGann TV movie had come and gone and various complex rights issues precluded the BBC from making new TV Who even if they wanted to. Or so it seemed…

The story of the making of Scream of the Shalka is infinitely more interesting than the actual resulting fiction itself. The BBC’s Doctor Who website had already enjoyed some success with new ‘animated’ Doctor Who which amounted to little more than illustrations with voice-overs. Despite BBC disinterest, funds were liberated for a more elaborate animation – from Manchester-based Cosgrove Hall (who’d previously been responsible for ITV hits Dangermouse and Count Duckula) – for an all-new full-cast adventure which would, significantly, introduce a fully sanctioned ninth Doctor in what was hoped would become an ongoing series of animated adventures. The hoops the production team had to jump through to get Shalka made are chronicled in the DVD’s most compelling extra, the Carry on Screaming ‘making of’ documentary. Richard E. Grant was cast as the ‘new’ Doctor alongside Sophie Okonedo as Alison Cheney (who would join the Doctor in the TARDIS at the end of the story) and, remarkably considering his casting in the same role in the resurrected TV series in 2007, Derek Jacobi as the Master. The serial, scripted by popular author Paul Cornell (who would himself go on to write for the TV series), finally went ‘live’ online in November 2003… two months after the BBC had announced their intention to bring Doctor Who back on TV in a big budget Saturday night production overseen by Russell T. Davies. Scream of the Shalka became redundant even before it aired.

Ten years later, it’s hard to work up much enthusiasm for Scream of the Shalka because it now just seems like an unfortunate, pointless diversion. And in truth, even if you leave aside the immediate obsolescence it achieved when it was made, it really doesn’t amount to much. The primitive ‘flash’ animation does it few favours; Cornell’s story – hostile aliens plotting to strip away the Earth’s ozone layer are terrorising the inhabitants of a small English village – never really soars despite some interesting concepts for the shrieking, subterranean, volcanic alien Shalka. To be fair, Grant makes a fair fist of portraying a slightly colder and more distant version of the Doctor but, Jacobi aside, other performances are altogether less convincing. Interestingly, this version of the ninth Doctor bears some similarities to the TV series which reappeared sixteen months later. The Doctor himself is trying to keep a low profile, he’s a damaged man following some unspecified catastrophe which appears to have cost him the life of a recent companion. Alison too isn’t a million miles away from Billie Piper’s Rose, a frustrated young girl trapped in a dead-end job and lumbered with an uninspiring boyfriend, who snaps up the chance to travel in the TARDIS with the Doctor and his pet android Master. Don’t ask…

Considering its limited budget, the restraints its production team found themselves working to and the BBC’s general disinterest in the project, it’s amazing that Scream of the Shalka was made at all and it was a well-meaning effort at giving fans something new when it looked like the show was the last thing on the BBC’s collective mind. But viewed now, after eight years of the hugely popular and fast-paced new TV show, Scream of the Shalka looks creaky and old-fashioned and it can’t help but seem more redundant now than it did in 2003. Completism alone justifies this DVD release but really it’s just one big ‘so what?’ shoulder-shrug which exists as little more than a good example of Doctor Who fans fighting to keep the show alive when all around them had just about given up hope. Worthy and yet ultimately worthless.

Extras: Commentary / Making of documentary / History of the BBC website / 2003 cast and crew interviews / Photo gallery