The Amateur (2025)

The Amateur is one of those films that sits somewhere between clever and familiar. Rami Malek stars as Charlie Heller, a CIA codebreaker whose life is torn apart after his wife is killed in a terrorist attack. When the agency refuses to act, Heller decides to take matters into his own hands. It’s a story about grief, frustration, and a man with no field experience being pushed to do what others won’t.

The film is based on a novel from the early ’80s, and even though the setting is updated, there’s still a bit of that Cold War flavour baked into the bones. You can feel it in the way institutions are portrayed—bureaucratic, immovable, and impersonal. That part rings true. There’s an undercurrent of helplessness that a lot of people will relate to.

Malek plays Heller as someone who’s emotionally raw but quiet. You can see the pain in his eyes, the way he carries himself—slightly hunched, like the weight of it all is too much. At times, though, it feels like we’re kept at a distance. His performance is solid, but a little too contained. He’s believable, but not always someone you connect with on a deeper level.

Laurence Fishburne, as a more seasoned operative, adds much-needed warmth and balance. His presence gives the film a kind of anchor. He’s been in these sorts of roles before, but he brings the same calm intensity that always works. Rachel Brosnahan, who plays Heller’s wife, has only a short time on screen, but she’s memorable. Her performance gives the story its emotional centre, even if we don’t get to see much of it.

Director James Hawes keeps the pacing tight, which is one of the film’s strengths. It never drags, but it also doesn’t rush to the next set piece. There’s a confidence in how the story unfolds. It doesn’t try to overcomplicate things. Visually, the film uses its settings well. There’s a shift in tone and colour depending on where Heller is—cold blues and greys at CIA headquarters, warmer, more unpredictable lighting in places like Istanbul. These changes quietly reflect his inner state, which helps the viewer track where he’s at emotionally, without spelling it out.

There’s also some nice visual symbolism—reflections, broken glass, flickering lights—all representing Heller’s fractured world. These touches aren’t subtle, but they’re not overbearing either. They serve their purpose.

Action-wise, this isn’t a high-octane thriller. There are some tense moments and a few well-timed bursts of violence, but most of the tension comes from watching a regular guy try to do something dangerous and complicated without losing himself in the process. The effects are clean and realistic, never stealing attention away from the story.

The soundtrack by Volker Bertelmann complements the film well. It’s not overpowering, but it adds to the atmosphere, especially in the quieter scenes. It gives those moments some weight without pushing too hard.

Where the film stumbles is in the dialogue and character development. Some exchanges feel a little stiff, and a few of the supporting characters feel underused. There are moments where you want more depth, more emotion, more unpredictability—but the film tends to play it safe.

That’s the thing about The Amateur. It’s watchable, even gripping at times, but it doesn’t take enough risks to leave a lasting impression. It’s intelligent, but not especially moving. Well-crafted, but not particularly bold. You get the sense that it could’ve gone deeper or darker and been all the better for it.

If you’re someone who enjoys spy dramas with a more grounded, thoughtful edge, you’ll probably find something to appreciate here. It’s not your typical shoot-’em-up, and that’s actually a good thing. But don’t go in expecting a completely fresh take or a deeply emotional ride. It’s a good film, just not a great one.