John Travolta continues his bad apple ways in the City of Light, and I doubt that city sees more homicides in a year than his US government operative murders in the first ten minutes of this gritty cops and robbers outing.
Once again Travolta plays an assassin with an unparalleled glee, a shtick that is getting to be a bit creepy after all these years. Shaven headed and swaddled in neck-obscuring scarves, Travolta is Charlie Wax, a legendary FBI agent renowned for his punishing efficiency and perpetual good humour in the murder game.
For some unknown reason he is partnered with Reece (Jonathan Rhys-Meyers), a completely green, over-cautious, but ambitious diplomatic aide to the US ambassador in Paris. He does little favours for the special ops unit while angling for a respect and ultimately, a job in exciting line of work. But once he sees what it’s really like, at street level, with a partner like Wax, will he be so sure?
Wax is a kind of snickering mentor to Reece. He teaches him the direst lessons in international relations, for instance, when in doubt, shoot everyone in the room, take no prisoners – ever, and assume your apartment is rigged sixteen ways till Sunday because someone IS following you.
Wax’ likes to keep Reece off kilter, by feeding him misinformation and putting him in extremely violent scenarios; it is hard to know what’s real and what Wax Real is. He doesn’t divulge exactly what their mission is until more than halfway through the film, but then it’s hard to care. Until that point, we’re meant to be entertained by Travolta’s madman shenanigans. The audience may not be, but Reece is thrilled, he’s never experienced anything like what he’s seeing with Wax – murder, mayhem, deceit and it’s all government sanctioned! He ignores his instincts to NOT follow Wax, and goes along without developing much tension or character. Wax further subjugates Reece by making him carry a huge vase filled with cocaine for most of their journey, rendering him useless during fights with the terrorists.
Reece doesn’t know why these people are dying and cares little; he just craves excitement. He lives the ‘spy’ life by day and by night, the urban condo life with his gorgeous fiancée – it’s nicely and neatly divided, for a time.
The film is a showcase for Wax’s high octane persona, but there’s not much substance in plotting or character development. Travolta can carry it off but with a script as lame as this one, his sizzle fizzles. Rhys-Meyers is given little to do but hang around Wax like a fanboy, and nurse a broken heart when his fiancée turns out to be less than he dreamed.
The awkward scripting in the first hour weighs the film down and it takes more than hour to get going. While most of the film is wanting, the final half hour or so finally gives us something to attract and hold our attention.
There’s a thrilling car chase sequence down a French highway, as Travolta leans out the passenger window with a rocket launcher angling for a clear shot at his quarry; they’re going FAST. Classic action and you feel you’re right there with him.
35mm action adventure
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