In short: Split Second (1992)

I don’t know how a film about a hilariously overacting Rutger Hauer chasing a serial killer who is actually a monster through a half-flooded London in the far flung future of 2008 can get quite this boring, but there you have it.

Well, actually, I have a rather good idea how Split Second manages to get quite this boring. Just show none of the monster attacks in a misguided attempt at creating suspense through the power of loud heartbeat noises on the soundtrack and music that’s perpetually swelling for little reason at all. Hire a bunch of actors who either – understandably so – hate the script so much and – deplorably so - have so little professional dignity they just flat out refuse to actually act or drug them with valium before the shoot.

Pretend what an audience really wants from a film about Rutger Hauer hunting a Predator-style (or maybe its supposed to be Alien) monster is to witness lots and lots of scenes of people getting in and out of cars, walking in and out of a police station, strolling through corridors (and then some more corridors) and from time to time talking to each other in the sort of zingers a writer will come up with when a producer runs into his home brandishing a gun and shouts “Joke! Now!” at him.

Because that’s still not good (well, bad) enough, add murky photography, and an embarrassing amount of pointless borrowing from movies that aren’t a horrible pain to watch to the rancid stew of bad filmmaking.

What you have now is Tony Maylam’s Split Second, the perfect antidote for insomnia.