I can’t think of any actor more deserving of their own pulpy action franchise than Charlize Theron. Having stolen Mad Max: Fury Road from Tom Hardy one-handed (literally), she is relentlessly, murderously brilliant in this adaptation of Antony Johnston’s graphic novel The Coldest City. The setting is Berlin just before the fall of the Wall; the paranoid hangover of the cold war is giving way to a new era of hungry opportunism. A British agent has been murdered; a valuable list is missing. And MI5 asset Lorraine Broughton (Theron, looking like Debbie Harry dipped in venom) is flown in to clear up the mess. There she butts heads with fellow agent David Percival (James McAvoy, skeevy-sexy, accessorised with beer sweats and casual treachery) and has a fling with rookie French spy Delphine (Sofia Boutella, lots of smouldering in fishnet body stockings).
First time director David Leitch favours a sleazy, neon aesthetic that looks like an X-rated, ultraviolent knock-off of a Duran Duran video. The soundtrack...
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