Anyone lured by the thought that this will be an elegant tale imbued with the spirit of Noel Coward will be severely disappointed. Refinement and smart wit are certainly not what "Mad Dogs" is about.
London, a year from now. Following the outbreak of a canine disease dogs are outlawed. Robert 'Rabbie' Burns (Iain Fraser) is a schizophrenic who is contacted by aliens and given a 36-hour ultimatum to prevent scientists unleashing a new weapon capable of destroying galaxies. Together with his girlfriend and a resourceful busker he runs the gauntlet of a bewildering succession of dangerous agencies, human and alien, as they travel underground and via Underground...
Our hero may be mad but, unsurprisingly, he is the sanest person around. After all, alien mistrust of our technological intentions is well documented - from the days of at least the earliest creature-feature. Indeed, the talk of a weapon more powerful than the atom bomb stirs unsettling memories of the most infamous of all grade Z flicks, "Plan 9 from Outer Space", whilst there is more than one reference to "This Island Earth".
More tellingly it is "Time Bandits", "12 Monkeys", "Pulp Fiction", and "The Hitch-Hiker"s Guide to the Galaxy" which are among the pop cultural artefacts thrown into a blender in an effort to create an instant cult hit - though with the result most likely to appeal to the 12-year-olds who will be excluded by the certificate. The dog disease is perhaps an attack on Britons" celebrated love for pets, but like much of the film feels arbitrary, yielding only some feeble gags. The hero is an unappealing live wire and the film succumbs too often to a garrulous script, at times coming to a grinding halt so that characters can bring forth quasi-poetical and pseudo-philosophical ramblings (Benjamin Zephaniah even has a somewhat redundant cameo). Unfortunately the characters vary little in their sarcastic lip and ready recourse to a fusillade of four-letter oaths, promoting a sense of fatigue in the viewer.
However, not all is lost. The direction shows real vigour and the photography moments of strange beauty. Some of the humour comes off: with Rabbie"s house invaded by the recently resurrected he frets, "I'm not sure the chicken will stretch." But the real strengths are in the casting. Paul Barber is indomitable as the philosophizing saxophonist deadbeat Jimmy 'James' Joyce, even if he seems a late substitute for Craig Charles. The disarmingly lovely Indira Varma, as the hero"s 'Asian babe' girlfriend, moves through the action with luminous grace, providing both a calming presence and as good a reason as any for the human race not to be eradicated. (Who could argue with the film"s contention that the best way to spend one"s last night on earth is in her company?) Meanwhile, Jonathan Pryce is as credible a personification of the Supreme Being as one could imagine; he brings great weight and authority - even a certain measure of "humanity" - to his brief scenes. Clive Russell, Bhaskar Patel, and Saeed Jaffrey also make the most of their moments.
The DVD"s extras are fairly meagre: a trailer; three short deleted scenes; and a rather vapid 'chat with the Supreme Being (Jonathan Pryce)'. The sleeve claims that there is a commentary by the director, but it appears neither on the menu or as an audio option so unless it is "hidden" for some obscure reason, it ain"t there.