Planet Terror didn't quite manage to deliver on the terror front with its over-the-top infestation. Serving as the initial film in Rodriguez and Tarantino’s tribute to the “Grindhouse” exploitation style, it showcases the charm of low-budget filmmaking. There’s no attempt at sophisticated drama here; instead, we find ourselves on dark, misty roads in rural Texas where Fergie belts out "Fergalicious" while being attacked by infected soldiers. This is Planet Terror, and ultimately, the only thing that seems to matter is the amount of gore splashed across the screen. Rodriguez seemingly took on every role – directing, producing, writing, scoring, editing, and filming – but his efforts to recreate the exploitation aesthetic feel forced; if you remove the grainy filter, it comes across as a mildly interesting experiment. A one-legged Go-Go dancer, her former boyfriend, and several other survivors fight against a horde of zombies infected with a biochemical agent called “Project Terror.” I noticed it in the poster. You’ve seen it in the poster. We all have. McGowan stands there looking tough, armed with an assault rifle where one leg should be. That's the level of ridiculousness we're dealing with, and I can say I really wanted to see that. Rodriguez had the freedom to create a film so ridiculously fun that it could have been completely nonsensical and still entertaining. This is a genre where all conventions are meant to be disregarded—literally! Yet, I found myself feeling oddly restrained while watching it. Something held Planet Terror back, something I can't quite pinpoint. The acting felt bland rather than memorable. Aside from a few lines worth repeating, mostly delivered by El Wray, Rodriguez’s screenplay was forgettable and generally unfocused. For instance, the subplot involving Brolin’s serious doctor seemed to exist only to extend the running time. But when McGowan got that machine gun, launched herself into the air (with wonderfully awful green screen effects), and mowed down the zombie horde ahead—bam! That's when Planet Terror actually worked! Piloting a helicopter at an angle so the propeller decapitates the infected? Yes! Tarantino trying to be something he’s not? No thanks! Turn it off! It was too late before the film finally embraced what made its genre enjoyable. Aesthetically, Rodriguez did manage to capture that exploitation feel. The sheer amount of blood from the practical makeup effects was impressive and effectively emphasized the raw impact of tangible techniques. Limbs were torn off with the same ease as a family enjoying a KFC meal deal. Delicious. The grainy filter, meant to mimic an old film reel—complete with “missing reel” segments—felt authentic despite occasionally obscuring the screen with black blotches. However, when you strip away those aesthetic elements, the B-movie charm Rodriguez was aiming for fades. It’s too serious in its execution to truly qualify as "grindhouse," and that's disappointing. If it had fully embraced the sheer craziness of its final ten minutes throughout the entire film, Planet Terror could have been something really special.

Source on TMDB