Imagine: a body is found in a London alley in 1890. The man is naked, and it looks like he was killed by a gunshot to the head – or, more accurately, to the left eye. He also has what seems to be a strange tattoo on his left wrist. But that’s not all: the same body is found in the same place… in 1941. And, again, in 2023. In 2053, the man is found, but he isn’t dead yet – he’s clinging on to life. And four detectives from the Metropolitan Police investigate the mystery in four eras.

Sound intriguing, if perhaps in a somewhat mystery-boxy way?

Now imagine: you’ve got an engaging hook, with lots of pulp sci-fi potential – only to squander it away in a story that rehearses the same old tropes of time loop narratives and dystopian fiction, with characters that are either drab or clichéd or both, and a script that could have been written by generative AI. And the cinematography is as dreary and flat as the writing. And, in case you haven’t guessed: yup, it’s a Netflix production.

Time is a flat circle, innit?

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