Grief and trauma have a way of rooting us in the past, of catching us in a loop of re-living, re-visiting, re-imagining events with a different result - something LAPD officer Jack (David Oyelowo) knows too well. After his beloved niece Ashley (Storm Reid) is murdered, Jack is haunted by everything he should have done to protect her - but then he receives a call. From Ashley, somehow calling him from four days before her death. Has Jack's grief led him to lose grip on reality, or is he being offered a chance to stop Ashley's murder before it happens?

Written by Drew Daywalk and director Jacob Estes, Don't Let Go has obvious echoes of Frequency and Looper, two films that also dealt with time-crossing communication, the spectre of mortality, and a sense of loss. But Estes really embraces the detective procedural angle, as Jack uses his training and Ashley's vantage point in the past to try and stop her murderer.

The first act is intriguing, as Jack tries to figure out both the rules of the time lapse and the motive for Ashley's murder. David Oyelowo and Storm Reid are both excellent actors, sharing a warm familial chemistry that elevates their generic characters: Responsible Workaholic Uncle and Chatty Good Kid.

But as the plot is reduced to an endless series of phone calls and derivative cop thriller subplots, it becomes harder to care about the characters' fates. The rules of the different timelines and the time-jumping communication itself are very confusing, and in the absence of logistical tension, the characters' lack of clear identity becomes an issue. What exactly is happening to these people? And why do we care? (That the characters were originally written as white is also very apparent. Show me a blood-spattered black person who feels completely safe walking in front of police in Trump's America, and I will show you a white writing team.)

The tension-filled score, use of claustrophobic spaces and the central performances make this a serviceable late night TV offering. Just leave your brain four days behind you.

2,5/5