Remember when theaters regularly screened mid-budget thrillers featuring ordinary people thrust into extraordinary circumstances? The Amateur whisks viewers back to that golden era of ’90s tech-driven suspense films like The Net and Enemy of the State where everyday heroes outsmarted shadowy organizations with nothing but wits and determination.

There’s a certain sweet spot in moviegoing—right around 5 p.m. on a Saturday—when you want something gripping, not too heavy, and ideally starring someone brooding across international backdrops while dodging bullets. The Amateur is exactly that kind of film. It might not be reinventing the genre, but it’s a well-oiled, spy-thriller machine with just enough emotional grounding to elevate the popcorn crunch.

Rami Malek (Nuremberg) plays Charles Heller, a CIA cryptographer whose world caves in after his wife Rachel Brosnahan (Superman) is killed in a London terrorist attack. The agency—predictably distracted by politics and protocol—chooses not to pursue the suspects. Heller, driven more by grief than training, blackmails his superiors into turning him into a field operative. It’s a setup straight out of the ’90s studio thriller playbook—and I mean that in the best way. Think Sneakers or The Fugitive—movies where the underdog uses brains over brawn, and every laptop is a ticking time bomb.

Malek, who’s been in search of a worthy post-Bohemian Rhapsody project, seems more at home here than in his last few outings. There’s still that distant, haunted quality he brings to most characters, but this time it’s used to his advantage—he plays Heller as a man barely hanging on, which gives weight to his eventual transformation. There’s no Jason Bourne moment where he suddenly becomes a lethal killing machine. He stays a little clumsy, a little unsure. That realism is one of the film’s best touches.

Supporting performances are uniformly solid, even when the material doesn’t give them much breathing room. Laurence Fishburne (Slingshot) plays Robert Henderson, the grizzled trainer tasked with turning Heller into something resembling an agent. It’s the kind of role Fishburne could do in his sleep, and at times, it feels like he might be. Still, his presence gives the movie some weight.

Holt McCallany (The Iron Claw), as CIA deputy director Alex Moore, is as dependable as ever—slick, slightly shady, and always one step away from pulling a double-cross. Caitríona Balfe (Belfast) and Michael Stuhlbarg (Call Me by Your Name) are both good in roles I won’t describe to avoid spoilers. Julianne Nicholson (Blonde), as the new CIA director trying to fix a system too broken to patch, makes the most of her screen time. She and Malek share a couple of sharp scenes that hint at the movie it could have been had it dug deeper into its institutional critique.

Director James Hawes (One Life), whose work on Black Mirror and Slow Horses sharpened his genre instincts, keeps things moving briskly. The screenplay by Ken Nolan and Gary Spinelli (adapted from Robert Littell‘s 1981 novel “The Amateur” which was made into a movie that same year.) tightens the story into a globe-trotting cat-and-mouse game. It swaps cold war paranoia for modern institutional apathy and personal revenge.

And that’s the tradeoff. While The Amateur is handsomely shot, well-acted, and engaging throughout, it doesn’t take many risks. The globetrotting is efficient but visually underwhelming; Prague and Berlin start to blend into generic cobblestone alleys and neon-lit cafes. Unlike Bond films—where locations have character arcs—this one treats scenery like itinerary bullet points.

I also wish the studio had shown some restraint with the trailer. Too many of the film’s clever beats are handed away before you even buy your ticket. It’s a shame, because some genuinely well-constructed set pieces and character turns would’ve landed harder with fresh eyes. The score works, the tension is well-paced, and it wraps up with a satisfying (if slightly tidy) resolution.

Still, as someone who grew up on mid-budget thrillers, it’s a relief to see something like this on the big screen again. These are movies you caught in theaters and rewatched on cable years later. There’s a place for high-octane blockbusters and prestige miniseries. But I’ll always have a soft spot for movies where regular guys with code and grudges topple corrupt systems.

The Amateur doesn’t overstay its welcome. It’s not trying to change your life or revolutionize the spy genre. It just wants to entertain you for two hours—and it absolutely does. That might not sound like much, but these days, that’s practically a superpower.