Washed up as a ballet dancer, Jennifer Lawrence straight away finds a new vocation as a glamorous chainsmoking spook (her induction conducted by Charlotte Rampling dressed like a concentration camp guard) in this hokum in which hardly anyone ever speaks above a whisper.

One suspects a leg pull, but the penchant of Vladimir Putin (who actually appears in the original novel) for flexing his pecs stripped to the waist suggests that maybe it's emphasis on buff torsos rather than espionage isn't too far off the mark after all.