What simultaneously saves and sinks Boss Level is that co-writer/director Joe Carnahan handles the material as if it were a video game, so that the conventions of the time loop genre suddenly make perfect sense; for example, whenever the hero dies, he respawns at the previous checkpoint while retaining the knowledge gained from previous attempts (any gamer will tell you that sometimes the only way to beat a level is knowing beforehand what’s coming).

Thus, when Roy (Frank Grillo) needs a vehicle, he simply procures himself one à la Grand Theft Auto. And every time Guan-Yin (Selina Lo) kills him, she says her catchphrase “I am Guan-Yin, and Guan-Yin has done this”.

She repeats this phrase so much it’s infuriating, but that’s precisely the point – to recreate the experience of having a Boss kick your ass so bad (and taunt you mercilessly in the process) that you just have to keep coming back for more, relishing in advance the moment when you finally get the best of him/her.

The problem with this is that once Roy figures out where he has to go and what he has to do, and that he has unlimited opportunities to go there and do that, the film is drained of all sense of urgency, becoming as engaging as watching someone else play a video game for hours on end. Even the end of the world is no big deal when there is literally one every day; after all, Roy will always wake up in his bed and the world will always be there for him to save.

Grillo’s cocky neanderthal schtick is an acquired taste, but considering that his character suffers what essentially is a Rasputinian Death in increments, it’s safe to say that Roy pays his dues. Moreover, Roy shares some genuinely emotional scenes with his preteen son – who happens to be Grillo’s real-life son as well. And then there’s Mel Gibson as the sinister and menacing main villain (Will Sasso, as his lackey, is also surprisingly effective). This is the second time in as many years, following Force of Nature, that Gibson’s presence alone is enough to elevate what would otherwise be little more than a collection of clichés.