Pierre Morel (“Taken,” which demonstrated concern with that thing called narrative) gets to play around with a couple of explosion scenes, meaning you get the sense that this is a director that loved putting together his sharp camera angles and smash-cut editing techniques. He gets two primary camera subjects: Jonathan Rhys Meyers (who we love from “Match Point”) and John Travolta (who we love from “Face/Off”). Kasia Smutniak (who you might know only if you spend a lot of time with French cinema) is the secondary camera subject, also known as the pretty girl.
James Reese (Rhys Meyers) is established early as a personal aide to the U.S. Ambassador in Paris. In addition to being an aide, he is also the Ambassador’s chess partner which is important for setting up a howlingly bad exchange of dialogue at the end of the movie which I dare not give away. Anyway, Reese’s dream is to become an operative for the CIA. He gets an on-the-field training day when he acts as escort to FBI agent Charlie Wax (Travolta) who transports firearms from the States and successfully gets them past French security.
For a whole half hour, I was uncertain what was going on plot-wise but off the track I was still amused by the male repartee. What I could gather was that Wax might be considered some kind of bad guy since he indulges in snorting drugs and cajoling with hookers. If there is a central mystery in the film – intended or unintended because I was never sure if the filmmakers had an agenda or not – it is whether or not Wax is a bad guy or simply a badass renegade. Like I said, I wonder if “mystery” was even intended within the screenplay.
What is apparent is that Reese is less an escort than a tag along, and the intensity of Wax’s methods is scary for him – Reese is not sure if he should trust Wax. Within two hours, the two of them are already engaged in a couple of shoot-outs or brawls. Within twenty-four hours, well, it’s bam-bam all over the place. The one-liners in-between the bullet frays can be described as either awful or priceless, or maybe it is both at the same time. I think screenwriters of action movies in the 1980’s tried harder to be witty. I do apologize for not having any dialogue examples for you, but perhaps just in case you see the movie, I wouldn’t want to spoil the ridiculousness for you.
I am going to be Mr. Obvious here: This is not a respectable movie but it is not trying to be. I can’t even begin to say how incoherent the plot is but I am amused by how unconcerned it was at being incoherent. The big whopper plot twist where the key woman of the plot turns out to have a double-crossing agenda isn’t mind-bending, it’s just contrived.
Oh, the action is preposterous, and laughable, but isn’t it fun to laugh? Isn’t ridiculous more fun than solemn? Sure, sometimes it is even if it is to a limited degree. I was shaking my head in disbelief, yet I wasn’t exactly bored.
My memory was a little fuzzy just a couple of hours after seeing the movie, but I do have a couple of favorite moments. I like the scene at the end where the French diplomat is irritated by the inconvenience of how delayed she is – didn’t she recall that just moments ago an oncoming car got hit by a rocket launcher that was intended for her? Then at the beginning, how about shoot-out at the Chinese restaurant scene with cocaine oozing through bullet holes from the ceiling. What was that about? I mean to say, What Was That About!!!
Go to the official site at http://frompariswithlovefilm.com/
Grade: C
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