The Gunman review: no way to kill time

Sean Penn is Jim, a bulked-up ageing assassin who, together with a crack team of mercenaries, uses an NGO as a cover story to effect political skulduggery in the Democratic Republic of Congo. A clumsy and murkily plotted prologue introduces the gang, including tough guy Mark Rylance and tougher guy Javier Bardem, who, we learn, has his eye on Jim’s do-gooder volunteer medic girlfriend, Annie (Jasmine Trinca).

There comes a One Last Job scene and we skip forward to the present, where Jim has become a real NGO worker in order to atone for sins past. He retains the popping veins on popping veins that were useful in his earlier, murkier career, which is just as well, as suddenly lots of people are trying to kill him.

Interest piqued, he flies to various film-friendly tax-break destinations in Europe where his former colleagues now live. Inevitably, they all live with tourist attractions conveniently located in the background: Mark Rylance’s office space overlooks London’s Shard; a jaunt to Barcelona brings us to a bullfight. Even more inevitably, Javier Bardem is now living with Annie, who soon takes on the unhappy status of damsel-in-distress. As the wavering plot splutters toward an unlovely conclusion, she’s so objectified, she might as well be a suitcase with a vagina.

Many other talented actors – Rylance, Bardem, Ray Winstone, Idris Elba – are wasted, often literally and figuratively.

By attempting to parachute in weighty geopolitical themes to a successful action formula, the film sinks, leaving little to savour beyond Penn’s admittedly impressive hand-to-hand combat skills.

The Gunman wants to be Taken with a brain and without Liam Neeson. One might have imagined Pierre Morel, who directed Taken, would realise such a venture is like trying to make Frozen without princesses or Idina Menzel singing Let It Go. But, no. This is unlikely to be mistaken for a John le Carré joint.