Review of Doomsday (2008) by Chads. — 16 Mar 2008

"Mama, I'm coming home." Those words are never spoken in "Doomsday", but that's because this film is more Ozzy Osbourne than Josh Groban. Eden Sinclair(Rhona Mitra) was just a wee lass when the Glasgowian face melting began, and now the Scottish expatriate is returning to the bosom, commando style.

If you pardon the cannibalism, "Doomsday" could be a Lifetime movie, if you pardon the bloodletting and car chases, too. This would be more readily apparent had Scotland not reinvented itself as a punk rock wonderland.

If Eden wasn't looking for Kane(Malcolm McDonald), who English authorities think is in possession of the antidote that can cure the second wave of infections, this secretly Scottish woman would be looking for her mom.

Don't let it escape your notice that badass Eden kept the momento which tells her who she is. The whole of Scotland is under quarantine by English decree, but "Doomsday" could've extrapolated with less coyness and blatantly declare the U.

K.'s actions as totalitarian. The movie is also hampered by sloppy music choices during the ceremonial slayings, which leads to the nihilistic barbeque. Granted, Scottish bands like Simple Minds("Up on the Catwalk" might've worked) and Orange Juice(they're hopeless; too twee, and that goes for all Postcard-era bands) aren't "Warriors(The)"-worthy(the 1979 Walter Hill film), but there's always Franz Ferdinand(instead of Adam and the Ants).

"Doomsday" might just another neo-holocaust movie, but at least the dead stay dead. "Doomsday" chooses "I Am Dead" over "I Am Legend". Eden hardly bats an eyelid as colleague after colleague are picked off by this new breed of Scots, but the team leader would probably be bawling her eyes out if she crossed paths with mom.

That's her achilees heel. She's an orphan. "Doomsday" is a chick-flick protected by a bullet-proof genre.