This aims for giddy black comedy, but the tone is all wrong, the writing is slack and Bishop hasn't enough charm to carry it.
It's one of those British indie films that come nowhere near the standard of the most ordinary telly drama.
There is certainly potential in the material but this is a tacky, low-budget film that is as blunt and obvious as the instruments Baz uses on his victims.
While Urban’s film is proficiently written and presented, there’s little to engage with about Baz’s behavior; his episodic adventures might transgress moral codes, but they don’t have much entertainment value other than old-fashioned, Michael Winner-style shock tactics.
Setting out to be a killer-cop satire for the social media age, the result makes Paul Blart look like Taxi Driver. Unfollow immediately.
It's funny, sharp and ruthless.
General release. Check local listings for show times.