"The Eleventh Hour" concerns a semi-mystical Brit called Jacob Hood (Rufus Sewell) whom the Feds bring in at the last minute when they can't solve a crime or, more specifically, string of apparently-related crimes. He's paired with hottie young female FBI agent Rachel (Marley Shelton), whose assignment is to protect him from all the bad guys that don't want him figuring out their schemes (though you can guess why she's really there for dramatic and marketing purposes).
The pilot borrows the child-cloning plot from BOYS FROM BRAZIL, only in this case it's fomented by merely some millionaire (who lives in a gorgeous Seattle house inexplicably furnished at IKEA; go figure) who's lost his son and wants a replacement, requiring numerous cloned embryos implanted in unsuspecting young women that think they're merely acting as ordinary surrogate mothers. Of course, the folks the millionaire's employed to carry out this scheme are far more ruthless than he counted on, and they're leaving a trail of corpses behind as they try to cultivate the perfect clone baby.
Yikes. As soon as the end title came on and I saw that it was produced by Jerry Bruckheimer, purveyor of endless, mindless crap, I had the ultimate answer aqs to why what I'd just seen was so bad -- something not even "Jabob Hood" could figure out on his own.