Night Watch

At first glance, you'd think it safe to assume we'd travelled this particular sci-fi road before.

The forces of light squaring up to those of darkness for a titanic struggle. Been there. A mysterious figure who can alter the course of history. Done that.

Vampires and sorcerers waging treachery under the cover of the night. Bought the T-shirt.

But Russian director Timur Bekmambetov's superlative saga transfuses fresh blood into the vampire routine with a wonderfully surreal flourish.

Set in a contemporary Moscow of rust-stained apartments and teeming subways, the 1,000-year-old truce between the forces of light and darkness looks decidedly shaky.

Until now, the Night Watch has policed the shadows hiding vampires, witches and shape-shifters while the Day Watch keeps an eye on the forces of light.

However, an ancient prophecy decrees an omnipotent Other will rise up, be tempted by one of the sides and tip the balance holding the world back from the abyss.

Against this apocalyptic backdrop, we follow the story of Night Watch lieutenant Anton (Khabensky), a vampire-hunter who's on his own road to discovery.

While protecting a young girl from the clutches of a persistent bloodsucker, he finds himself caught up a global fight to the death.

What distinguishes this rivetting sci-fi fantasy from countless other genre clones is that it is, well, Russian.

The direct approach is the best - ie. vampire snatch squads don't bother with niceties like garlic or wooden stakes - they kick their teeth out.

Imagine Underworld directed by Alien Resurrection's French uber-stylist Jean-Pierre Jeunet and you'd have some grasp on the seriously surreal stuff going on here.

Subtitles aren't just boring white typeface - they're red letters that curl up and drift away like blood in water.

The Night Watch rattle around Moscow Ghostbusters style in a knackered bus while babushka sorceresses with bad hair can halt a pregnancy by thought control.

It's a mix as rich as caviar and as intoxicating as a slug of the finest vodka. Drink deep.

Tim Evans