Michael Fassbender’s introspective hitman is the subject of the reunion of Se7en director David Fincher and writer Andrew Kevin Walker, but this ice-cool thriller might just be too cool for school. Walker’s adaptation of Alexis “Matz” Nolnet’s graphic novel is methodical in a fashion that undoubtedly appeals to one of Hollywood’s most procedural directors, but the draw for audiences looking for anything more than showy surface may be somewhat limited.

Fincher is undoubtedly one of many directors – alongside the likes of Christopher Nolan and Denis Villeneuve – that are fun to speculate about the nature of their Bond movie. Mired in misogyny, Bond may not have a direct appeal to every director, but the lethal killer and nature of their private life still clearly has a compulsion for some to put their own stamp on. But where the recent Bonds, particularly those featuring Daniel Craig, have in some sense rehabilitated the world’s least-secret secret agent into a 21st century family man with a background and a purpose, Fassbender’s nameless assassin initially wants to keep it business only.

His handler Hodges (Charles Parnell) has dispatched him to Paris where his target appears to be a man of significant wealth occupying a vast penthouse. The Killer bides his time, knowing a devotion to boredom, an absolute focus on his objective and knowing when the circumstances are right – even down to his heart rate dropping into the correct range to keep his shooting hand steady – are his best weapons. He meditates extensively in voiceover about the nature of his work, his methods of anonymity (the German tourist look is good, apparently) and fast-food shopping tips, but keeps cards with his own details close to his chest. All that changes when his initial assignment fails, and a return home highlights just how seriously his employers consider any form of failure. Cliché it may be, but he now has a new set of targets, and this time they’re personal.

The Killer is a Netflix release, and it feels as if it has been delivered with the streaming service in mind. Rather than a Bondian opening action scene before an opening credits sequence, Fincher’s film cuts immediately into a fast-paced set of titles, before dialling back the pace to relative stillness. Fassbender’s hitman breaks the silence only by some occasional yoga and listening exclusively to The Smiths on his MP3 player, and it’s only when the attempted hit comes that the pace quickens.

To continue the Bond formula comparison, one element very much retained from the film adaptations of Ian Fleming’s work are the globe-trotting locations, filming hopping across the US and the Dominican Republic as well as Paris. But the locations don’t always offer glamour: while the assassin lifestyle clearly pays very well, based on the title character’s Caribbean home, business is conducted in seedy offices and a variety of airports (and keep an eye out for the various aliases used on the fake passports).

The question is really what the film is trying to deliver, other than a mildly entertaining thriller. So often the stakes threaten to be raised (Fassbender being disturbed while on watch, or his sub-Bourne escape across Parisian streets), only for the film’s pulse to settle back to a steady beat, much like its protagonist. Walker’s script has a similar fascination with both mundanity and motive as his iconic subversion of the detective thriller that he and Fincher unleased on an unsuspecting world nearly thirty years ago, it’s just a shame this doesn’t feel anywhere near as revolutionary.

There are two particular highlights though in the later chapters. Having discovered his home was invaded by a pair of similarly inclined visitors, intent on tying up his loose end, he sets about doling out justice to the duo in very different locations. The revenge home invasion of The Brute (Sala Baker) is full of invention, wit and one of the most satisfyingly brutal fights committed to film in recent years as Fassbender and Baker toss each other around like muscular rag dolls and not a single hold is barred. The other, much more up-market encounter sees The Expert (Tilda Swinton) get her own opportunity to monologue while drinking a flight of expensive whiskies in a favourite restaurant. Given how little insight we get into the actual purpose of our protagonist, for all of his voiceover posturing, it’s telling how much we feel we learn about Swinton’s expert in just a few minutes of a frank, one-sided conversation.

Fassbender plays it ice-cold throughout, a stoicism that many of his international hitman predecessors would be proud of, but it leaves the whole enterprise feeling a little empty. Ironic that, for all of the Smiths songs populating the score (otherwise given its usual efficiency by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross), we are missing This Charming Man at the heart of the film. Heaven knows I’m not quite miserable now, but now I know it’s over, well I wonder if The Killer isn’t just a bit of a missed opportunity.

The Killer screened at the London Film Festival 2023, and opens in cinemas on 27 October, following on Netflix and streaming from 10 November

Head here for more of Mark’s LFF 2023 coverage