Starring Angelina Jolie and Liev Schreiber. Rated PG. Opens Friday, July 23

Let’s just cut to the chase: Angelina Jolie could beat the crap out of you. Yes, even though she has skinny little arms and skinny little legs. Or at least that’s the weird feeling you get watching her go medieval on dozens of guys’ asses in the unexpectedly entertaining adrenaline rush that is spy flick Salt. Actually, not only is her CIA agent Evelyn Salt kind of reminiscent of lethal weapon Jason of the Bourne series, but, come to think of it, Jolie seems like she could kick Matt Damon to the ground too. Oh, sorry, Matt.

Because Salt is pretty crafty at keeping its audience guessing about what’s really up, it would be evil to spoil the fun here. The bare bones are that a former KGB officer walks into CIA headquarters and points the finger at Agent Salt, claiming she’s, in fact, a Russian plant. (Incidentally, when you’re pushing a plot involving remnants of the Cold War, it’s handy having a sleeper cell of Russian agents hit the real-life news.) That’s the cue for Salt to go off the grid—with fellow agents (Liev Schreiber and Chiwetel Ejiofor) in pursuit—and the cue for Jolie to do what she does freakishly convincingly on film: damage people, and vehicles, and buildings.

Director Phillip Noyce, a practised hand with CIA stories, and screenwriter Kurt Wimmer have created a slick, crazy-paced action package, complete with implausible bits and a spotable plot twist or two. But they and Jolie make Salt a mysteriously cool customer who doesn’t talk too much, feels real pain and bleeds, and utilizes old-fashioned grit and wits. Seriously, Tom Cruise—for whom the role was once intended—would never have used a Maxi-Pad so imaginatively.

And, make no mistake, while she’s undeniably a warrior, the film slyly never forgets Salt is a woman. Sure, those Russian operatives call her “sister” but, nyet, comrades, we and she know you’re thinking something decidedly unbrotherly.