Travolta brings the heat in "From Paris with Love"
There are basic human needs. Food. Shelter. Love. And the need to see someone careen down a highway while hanging out the window trying to aim a rocket launcher at a bad guy.
It happens to all of us, but mostly men, this need to see things blown up. Multiple times if necessary.
Luckily, there's "From Paris with Love," a fast-paced, high-explosive, but definitely R-rated film that meets this need head on with a few laughs along the way.
Jonathan Rhys Meyers (The Tudors) plays James Reece. He works for the American embassy in Paris, but what he really wants to do is cloak and dagger work. As the movie opens, he's more handkerchief and safety pin. The real spies have him changing license plates and planting bugs for the truly tough guys. He chafes at this. Yet, it takes him three tries and a borrowed stapler to adhere a bug to the underside of a desk, and he knocks his head in the process.
Maybe he needs more time to mature.
At least he has a hot French girlfriend, Caroline (Kasia Smutniak). She's the kind of girl who sews her own chic dresses out of his curtains and makes everything look good.
Reece's days warming the bench come to an abrupt end when Charlie Wax (John Travolta) rolls into town. He's a mega-spy with a huge swagger and fists to back it up. The hombre they bring in when they need a job done right. The type who can kill six knife-wielding thugs with his bare hands and consider it an appetizer.
A few raging gunfights later, Reece, the mild mannered wanna be spy, finds himself zooming around Paris toting a ridiculous Chinese vase full of cocaine through unbelievable mayhem.
I guess it's true you never know what the day is going to bring.
Truth be told, Charlie Wax has issues. You wouldn't want to take him home to mother. He does a little cocaine, kills lots of people (who deserve it), and even has an interlude with a prostitute. Plus, he just likes to mess with people. Although, now that I think of it, he wouldn't use the word "mess," but something much more Saxon. This film earns its R rating several times over.
In other words, Wax is no Jack Bauer. He's a careening force of nature that can only be found on the silver screen where there are no consequences for behavior. This movie isn't about the moral implications of his actions. It's about driving fast, shooting things, preferably with a rocket launcher, and blowing things up, for the sheer fun of it.
French director Pierre Morel finds ways to make the most ubiquitous of Hollywood staples - the shootout - look fresh. What's French for "awesome?"
The bodies pile up, starting with some alarmingly overarmed Chinese restaurant waiters. No worries, Wax and Reece, ever helpful, keep track of the body count for you.
It's all done with a wink and a nod from Travolta's character.
You get the sense Charlie Wax enjoys the ride as much as the audience does. In his jovial, foul-mouthed way, he's impressed with himself and reveling in seeing Reece squirm. Travolta - let's face it - has played some stinkers in his days (Old Dogs, anyone?), but he pulls off Charlie Wax without a hitch.
Toward the end, there is one false note that doesn't jam with the rakish tone of rest of the movie. Don't worry. By the time it comes along you've had so much fun you don't even care. Much.
There's something to be said for just having a good time with buddies at the movies and not overthinking the implications of a film that is never intended to be a moral statement. Some don't like moral laxity and can't enjoy a film that doesn't have a strong moral code. Some of us love the cathartic release of a wild ride and shrug off the edgier elements. Hey, I'm not your mom. You know which group you fit in. Choose wisely and let me know what you think.