Jeremy Irvine plays a young tracker who signs up for a hunting expedition, only to get on the wrong side of his spoilt, wealthy client (Michael Douglas).

It starts off promisingly, suggesting a moody existential two-hander under blazing skies, then gets increasingly silly, hitting its nadir with the sight of Douglas taking aim at Irvine while sipping dry martinis among the mesas. Even more dastardly than his Gordon Gekko – and by now, considerably more lizard-like – Douglas’s embodiment of plutocrat amorality all but cackles “Mwaah-ha-ha!”, as the whole affair increasingly resembles a human Road Runner cartoon. Blankly candid, Irvine works hard, but the film is content to let his torso do most of the talking.