Cars, violence can't carry flick

This movie has sweet action, but that's about all. The heaps of potential this movie brings to the theaters are absent, as was character depth, dialogue, any semblance of romantic interplay or a meaningful storyline. \nFrank Martin (Jason Statham) lives what seems to be a quiet life along the French Mediterranean, hiring himself out as a mercenary "transporter" who moves goods one place to another, no questions asked. I am sure you can see the brilliance emerging. The "Snatch'' star, whose stony features and receding hairline imply a British Bruce Willis, gets marked for death after he breaks his own rules (never look in the package) and discovers that one of his delivery items is a bound-and-gagged woman.\nThe cryptic plot develops from there, giving the audience all of the necessary Jackie Chan fights and "Die Hard" explosions, not to mention some imbecilic French policemen who just always seem to pop in and out at odd points in the movie. And of course the 10 seconds of implied romance with no pillow talk. \nThere are some good highlights. The action sequences are visually stunning, and the softer yet appropriate musical accompaniment gives each bone-crunching blow a more thuggish quality. Yuen, the famous fight choreographer, grinds gears between high-speed car chases, furious gunplay and extreme hand-to-hand combat, maintaining the accelerated level of mayhem which loosely ties the rest of the movie together. And for the ladies, there is tasty fight scene with our scantily-clad hero all greased up, flexing while gritting his teeth, surrounded by hoards of English brutes.\nYet the movie falters heavily in nearly every other category. The prototypical "bad guys" are a hodgepodge of stereotyped Wall Street gangsters, Asian Mafia and delightful British hooligans. Cram in a ludicrous romance between the monosyllabic discourse and the barely intelligible one-liners each character spits out while bashing one another (not to mention the gratuitous Euro-product placement, i.e. BMW, Orangina, etc...), and you end up with the worst movie Jean-Claude Van Damme never made. Guys, go nuts, but maybe fill up on appropriate refreshments beforehand. Ladies, I'll understand if you opt for "Tuck Everlasting"