Convicted murderers race in the ultimate pay-per-view battle for survival, as scriptwriters Anderson, Robert Thom and Charles Griffith strip out characterisation and realism in their hunt for maximum carnage. Death Race is a noisy, hulking beast that takes ghoulish delight in dispatching its cardboard cut-out protagonists in an orgy of head-on collisions and explosions. Square-jawed hard-man Jason Statham is perfectly cast as the hero of the hour, a three-times speedway champion with an aversion to any emotion in his delivery of the admittedly clumsy dialogue.

A lot of the time he's wearing a metal mask which adds depth to his facial expressions.

Doting family man Jensen Ames (Statham) is framed for the slaying of his wife Suzy (Stephens) and ends up in Terminal Island maximum-security prison, run by no-nonsense warden Hennessy (Joan Allen).

She presides over Death Race, a three-day showdown on the facility's specially-constructed course.

Hennessy offers Ames his freedom if he agrees to race as the mythical masked driver Frankenstein against three-times champion Machine Gun Joe (Tyrese Gibson), Pachenko (Max Ryan), Travis Colt (Justin Mader), Grimm (Robert LaSardo) and 14K (Robin Shou). Ames reluctantly agrees and prepares for his big day behind the wheel, aided by lead mechanic Coach (Ian McShane), pit crew Lists (Frederick Koehler) and Gunner (Jacob Vargas) and sassy navigator Case (Natalie Martinez).

However, Hennessy doesn't intend to play fair, bending the rules to ensure record viewing figures.

Death Race is a non-stop assault on the senses, whether it be the deafening soundtrack, Niven Howie's hyperactive editing or Anderson's insatiable hunger for crash-bang-wallop destruction. But when the film screams out loudest for spectacle, Anderson opts
for restraint.