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In which people jump over things at high speed.

If you’ve not heard of Nitro Circus before it’s basically a toned down version of Jackass where the majority of performers are skilled at other things besides skateboarding. The crew is run by Travis Pastrana, a multi-talented adrenaline junkie who can ride most things with wheels really fast over tall things.

Comparisons to Jackass are inevitable. Both follow the same structure of ridiculous dare-devilry performed by a bunch of kooky characters that the makers go to great lengths to distinguish. The film was born out of MTV series as well. Compared to Jackass Nitro Circus feels like a family-friendly version. The Nitro Circus crew look like they know what they’re doing for the most part, despite showing clips from the TV series where some broke their legs in stunts gone wrong. They miss the overall mischief and ramshackle fun of Jonny Knoxville and gang. That’s not to deny that some of the stunts performed aren’t impressive. The bike/tricycle jump over a very big fall in Panama doesn’t look like the biggest distance but it made me feel sick watching it. Motor bikes being driven across water is also kind of impressive. My main issue with watching these “lovable” scamps defying the laws of gravity was that I didn’t particularly give a toss about them. Travis Pastrana is an affable host but by the end of the slim 80-odd mins he starts to become hugely grating.

The film is directed by two of the crew; Gregg Godfrey and Jeremy Rawle who decide to pepper the light hearted tone of the stunts with talking heads which stress the dangerousness of these stunts (Channing Tatum appears for some reason). Most of the time they pop up to say things like “remember these guys are putting their lives on the line” to which part me of me thinks “I didn’t ask them to”. The inclusion of an intro which shows children playing on bikes attempting smaller stunts tries to crowbar some dramatic tension into the film as though we’re watching the crew finally achieving their dreams of riding bikes in front of a crowd in Vegas. The effect of these scenes are spoilt when we cut back to the crew gurning as they fly through the air of ramps into water (I’m pretty sure Jackass did that one a few times but it was funnier).

The film also claims to be in 3D. I only watched the 2D version but I could only spot a couple of moments that may have actually used 3D effects and they look like they would have been basic at best. This is one of those films that doesn’t really need a review. If you’ve not heard of Nitro Circus chances are that you won’t be fussed. If you like them you’ll be planning on seeing it. Some of the stunts are genuinely impressive and fun. Others you may think “I really don’t care”. It all depends on whether you love adrenaline or Agatha Christie novels.

Space Precinct Legacy is a documentary of gradual disappointment. Not only does it chart the slow death of Space Precinct, one of the most ambitious british TV projects of its day, but as the documentary progresses, its microscopic production value and an increasingly negative tone sap all sense of enjoyment from the film by its conclusion.

Space Precinct could have been something special. Created and produced by the late, great Gerry Anderson (Thunderbirds, Stingray, Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons – a whole childhood is contained in these closed brackets), it was the tale of Brogan, an ex-NYPD flatfoot who finds himself transfers to a new precinct… in SPACE. Combine this huge premise with a mixture of live-action police drama and Anderson-brand animatronics and marionette trickery, and you have all the potential in the world for greatness. Executive producer of Space Precinct, Tom Gutteridge even originally pitched the show as “the next Star Trek.” It wasn’t.

Space Precinct Legacy is very honest about this. During the opening minutes Precinct’s visual effects director Steven Begg ‘fesses up “I had very high expectations of it, but I don’t think we quite got there.” It’s initially refreshing to see talking heads in a retrospective with a candid – and typically British – sense of honesty. There’s nothing more tedious than a rose-tinted, self-congratulatory clinics in nostalgia that have been known to accompany shows of yesteryear, but this honesty is also an undoing. As the doc progresses things get much more sour, more embittered; the financial woes of the poor Tom Gutteridge remain entertaining stories throughout, but the rest of the film makes for increasingly uncomfortable viewing. The scripts are rubbished, as is the lighting, the model design, the production design, the acting, the final product, even beloved Gerry Anderson’s creative direction. What started as an entertainingly candid cautionary tale crosses into wall-to-wall whinging and it’s a little unpleasant.

This isn’t helped at all by the tiny scope of production. Only a single actor – Mary Woodvine – makes an appearance, and there are only 7 talking heads in the whole piece, most of which are from the visual effects department. This makes some sense considering Gerry Anderson’s legacy is that of a visual effects pioneer, but we hear nothing from the production design crew, the scriptwriting crew, the live-action directors, and when their work is belittled without defence it only fuels the film’s negative vibe. We hear that the lead actor Ted Shackleford didn’t like to be associated with the show, but we never hear from Shackleford himself. It’s frustrating incomplete stuff. Perhaps saddest of all, there’s nothing from Gerry Anderson. While I’m well aware that Gerry Anderson sadly died before this film was made, it remains disappointing to see no archival or interview footage of the great man, something wherein he talks about his work, anything to shed light what he tried to achieve with his stories, even when they fail.

But there is an omission greater than that, and this is what ultimately kills Space Precinct Legacy. It contains no footage of the actual show its documenting. None. Anywhere. There are painted storyboards and backstage photos aplenty – of some wonderful looking visual effects work I’ll freely admit – but when so much of the insight comes from the visual effects department, it’s flabbergasting to find that we never actually get to see these visual effects in action. There’s much excited talk of the animatronics used throughout the show, frustrating us further and further when we don’t get to see anything move. When I have to search Youtube in order to actually see the show about which I’ve just watched a 90-minute retrospective, that is damning.

I’m sure this all had to do with limited budget and limited access to copyrighted material, but if that’s the case, is the film worth making? The doc’s director Paul Cotrulia must be a great fan of the material, but being endlessly told that Space Precinct was in so many ways disappointing without ever really showing the audience this makes for a documentary that doesn’t fully document.

The film ends with a tribute to Gerry Anderson, but this is possibly the most jarring direction of all. After such a heap of bad feeling – at one point it’s even said that for a second series of Space Precinct to exist, Gerry Anderson might have to have been taken off the project – to end extolling the virtues of the recently departed creator just doesn’t gel. The film’s structure runs a little like this: Gerry Anderson created Space Precinct, Space Precinct was dreadful, we miss Gerry Anderson. Now I’m ill-informed and sad.

All in all, Space Precinct Legacy is a fitting tribute to the show. It’s made with love, but through one production limitation or another, it comes up short.

You can can buy the documentary on amazon.co.uk.