There's a lovely frisson between Bean and Rampling that makes you think what James Bond and M could be.
| Original Score: 3/5
The film certainly has ambition and there are some memorable fight scenes, but it also lacks the extra oomph that could have done for Bean's action-movie career what Taken did for Liam Neeson's.
It's perhaps one credibility-straining twist too many for the film, which up until then does a solid job of aping slicker, bigger-budgeted Hollywood thrillers.
The ambition is laudable even if the execution isn't as smooth or detailed as it might have been.
A slick action drama with a strong cast, including Tuppence Middleton, Charlotte Rampling and Michelle Ryan, that delivers in terms of violence, gunplay and conspiracy thrills.
It's a competent, conventional thriller, but there's something suspiciously unbalanced going on here.
With a better script editor, this could have been a character-piece comparable, maybe, to Showtime's Homeland.
Trashily enjoyable thriller that puts its low budget to impressive use and scrapes a pass thanks to strong performances and some bone-crunching action scenes...
A brutal, unsparing thriller, if a little on the long side.
As a rather far-fetched work of faction, Cleanskin left me feeling rather grubby about the world that we live in - and not entertained.
| Original Score: 2/5
You couldn't ever accuse Hadi Hajaig's film of being one-sided: it has two, both of them stupid.
| Original Score: 1/5
As if we don't have enough gullible folk believing 7/7 and 9/11 conspiracy theories already, this poor thriller comes along to popularise the paranoia.
Cleanskin has Charlotte Rampling dying, spiritually at least, on a bench. It can be contagious.
It plays like a lad-mag fantasy of counterterrorist work, juxtaposing mediocre action sscenes with a lot of deadly serious Islamist rhetoric.
Could have been a British 24 but is undone by terrible plotting, implausibility and lack of excitement.
At times, it's almost as funny as Four Lions. The trouble is, it's not meant to be comedy.
Plodding, somewhat misbegotten, and never slick enough to sweep us along.