Five hundred years into the future and the Earth is dead. Humans have colonised the heavens and an all-powerful Alliance rules the galaxy.

Under the command of Captain Mal Reynolds (Nathan Fillion) a band of petty criminals aboard the good ship Serenity move from port to port, picking up work and knocking off banks where and when they can.

Into their nefariously grungy lives come a pair of strangers – a well-meaning doctor and his disturbed telepathic sister – a former prisoner who seems to have secrets locked inside her troubled young mind that the Alliance will do anything to ensure stay secret.

Cue a whirlwind of interstellar adventure and the unforgettable spectacle that is a 90lb girl laying out a bar-full of galactic Hell’s Angels.

Born out of the cancelled TV series Firefly – criminally cut down in its prime – this is a genuinely impressive sci-fi adventure in its own right.

The film serves a far greater purpose than merely satisfying the impassioned throng of Firefly devotees.

It’s the kind of balls-to-the-wall action movie that so many others, this past summer especially, purported to be and yet time and time again managed to disappoint.

It’s a western set in space. It’s an amped up galactic soap opera. It’s an all-out comedy. It’s a pumped up action spectacular. Its every one of these things and then probably a little bit more.

Writer / Director / Fanboy God Joss Whedon takes real relish in unleashing his most effective weapon – humour.

The script casually passes off its golden one-liners at what appear the most inopportune moments, using pitch-perfect gags as a way of enhancing the poignancy of scenes rather than just providing an emotional breather.

Its nice to know that while Mr Lucas was polishing his CG machines and Messrs Wachowski and Wachowski were busy learning every word in the dictionary longer than three syllables one guy has been paying attention to what sci-fi audiences were really gagging for.

Sequels please Mr Whedon, and fast.

Tim Postins