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Split Second (1992)


Cool. Split Second takes place in a dystopic London in the near future (2008, for perspective). London has been direly affected by global warming (shown through flooded streets and water-worn environments). The plot simply follows an officer named Stone (played by Rutger Hauer) as he trails a killer monstrosity that likes to munch on people’s hearts. Stone is a cigar smoking, trench coat wearing, shotgun toting cop who, despite being in pursuit of a highly dangerous killer, insists on wearing sunglasses at night and indoors. Stone is almost too bad ass for the movie’s own good. Seriously, some puny ass monster stands about a snowball’s chance in hell against this guy.

Stone is said to be an unstable ex-alcoholic rule breaker who has been relieved of duty time and time again. But, “they say he’s the best,” so I guess it’s OK then. Stone is eventually assigned a new poindexter of a partner that he affectionately calls “Dick.” As they pursue the killer, we begin to see that this cunning, all-purpose monster is somehow smart enough to taunt the police department, is capable of handling firearms, and follows elaborate occult rituals. It also really loves heavy breathing when creeping up on someone.

Hauer fittingly hams it up, seemingly well aware of what kind of film he’s in. His character is given the best one liners you could hope for, and brandishes a magnificent hand cannon throughout most of the film. There’s also a surprising appearance by Pete Postlethwaite who, bless his heart, actually seemed to put some effort into his performance.

London is almost always shown at night, with a drab, predominantly faded blue hue. Within the watery setting, the lights love to flash too. If you want a cheap strobe light for Halloween this year, just drape a thin sheet over your TV with this playing underneath. There’s also a gritty synth score that at times seems reminiscent of Blade Runner (minus the atmospheric beauty of Vangelis’ score). Split Second also follows the classic horror tradition of not fully exposing the monster until the very end. I guess you can fault the marketing campaign for showing it on the poster.

At an hour and a half runtime, the movie is appropriately succinct, and never gets too boring. With big guns, cheesy one liners, hammy acting, graphic violent effects, and plenty of exaggerated action, it’s also a bastion of unadulterated testosterone. In 1992, this could be a 17-year-old boy’s Holy Grail. Now, it’s enjoyably dated, and should be fun for those that appreciate campy products of the time.