Jennifer Lawrence plays a Russian secret service operative who gets raped, endures an attempted rape, gets beaten, gets a black eye, slashed, stabbed, gets a gun put to her head, has to strip in front of dozen pairs of indifferent eyes and has a man died on top (and inside) of her. Sounds like a helluva thriller if I put it that way. However, it turned out to be a totally bland experience. I am filing this under the "trailer is better than the movie" category.

The movie starts rather well. Cross-cutting tensely between two characters in two separate locations in Russia, the opening has pizazz and attitude, but it quickly simmers down to a lull. Granted this is not a spy thriller in the mold of The Bourne Trilogy and more in the plaintive vein of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, Francis Lawrence's fourth outing with Jennifer Lawrence doesn't even strive to be at least exciting. So much is at stake and everything seems to fall on both Lawrences' shoulders, but just like the perennial cold Russian weather, they serve up a frigid and turgid dish.

Jennifer Lawrence puts in a professional and fearless performance and in one chilling moment performs a difficult scene with aplomb. It is a scene that takes a lot of guts to bring to life and you will know it when you see it. But her character is painted with little guile and her cold exterior is impenetrable. Her character is humanised by her love for her bedridden mother and every time she appears the heavy-handed mawkishness nearly pushed me into a near-diabetic coma. Why can't her character motivation be painted differently? So I am to gather that she messes up men for noble reasons? Cliché.

For a movie that mixes spycraft with erotica, Red Sparrow doesn't do either particularly well. The narrative sidesteps into clandestine territory with vague purpose and the cards are held so close to Lawrence's ample chest that it is difficult to sense who her allegiance is to or her cunning wileness. The cloak and dagger intrigue and mental chess games are not on par with the best spy movies that have graced our consciousness like Munich or The Bourne Trilogy, so much so that when the final denouement arrives it touches down with little impact.

In terms of erotic drama, Lawrence and Edgerton have zilch chemistry. It begins well enough at the swimming pool, but I find it hard to buy into their relationship and the huge stakes involved. A movie like this rise or fall on their on-screen chemistry, but their pairing left me cold. When it should sizzle with sultry energy, it barely purrs like a malnourished pussycat.

At a runtime of 139 minutes, nothing of note happens and my mind isn't engaged by all the espionage manoeuvrings. Violence comes in bright red flashes, but isn't compelling in terms of stakes when characters are so uninterestingly drawn. It is a shame because the story offers up so much promise (I am currently reading the book and I hate to say this, but the book is better). On top of needing a tighter edit to quicken the pace, what Red Sparrow needs is a better storyteller. As it is, this is just an unmemorable and mostly functional "point A to point B" fare. Imagine if the film were to be helmed by a director who could gel all the elements into an organic beast. Now, that would be a film blooded in crimson and Jennifer Lawrence would have disrobed for a worthier film.