From Paris with Love (2010)

Remember back when John Travolta was an entertaining movie star? John Travolta hopes you do, which is why he works “Royale with cheese” into an otherwise pointless scene in the middle of his new action movie From Paris with Love. His character’s in France, so it’s a custom-made moment for the star to recycle the French name for a Quarter Pounder, which he memorably popularized two decades ago in Pulp Fiction. There’s a big difference between winking at the audience, Mr. Travolta, and beating us over the head with a pop culture reference. And the scene rather obviously contains no McDonald’s packaging, branding, or even a mention; perhaps the fast-food giant was as skittish about the quality of this film as audiences should be.

From Paris with Love centers its standard spy script around James Reece (Jonathan Rhys Meyers), an aide to the American ambassador (Richard Durden) in Paris. He’s a sharp young man who plays chess very well and has a hot French girlfriend, Caroline (Kasia Smutniak). He’s also an undercover agent for some mysterious U.S. government spy branch, presumably CIA, although those letters are never uttered. Reece’s spy work seems to be primarily utilitarian, as he receives periodic phone calls telling him to change a license plate here or to plant a bugging device there. He’s not special ops yet, and is struggling to climb whatever ladder exists within this shadowy group.

Then he gets an assignment that will supposedly earn him the brownie points he needs. He has to pick up and partner with a new arrival in town, a top operative with the unlikely name of Charlie Wax. Like the “Royale” scene, this name only exists so Travolta can make a groan-inducing reference to The Karate Kid during a scene in a Chinese restaurant. Wax uses unorthodox methods, as gun-toting killers in movies like this always do, and as the poor saps stuck partnering with them always complain. Wax’s badass nature is evidenced by his penchant for colorful cursing and firing two guns at once while holding them sideways, as well as his shaved head, goatee and earring, which combine to make him look like a bouncer at a gay leather bar. Either way, he likely knows how to use his fists.

Rhys Meyers does a creditable job of playing the “straight” man in this partnership, although for a considerable amount of time he’s forced to carry around a large porcelain vase, an awkward story element that made me more concerned about the safety of the vase than of the character. There’s an interesting scene where he follows Travolta up a spiral staircase from a floor below, hearing gunshots and then seeing the bodies of Wax’s victims tumble down, realizing just what kind of ruthless assassin he’s now supporting. He gets a couple of good emotional moments later in the film as more secrets are revealed. Travolta, on the other hand, slices the ham so thick he’d have been yanked off a vaudeville stage with a big hook. His snarky dialogue gets old after a while, and he relishes showing off in all the fight scenes and gunplay. This includes a visually exciting firefight in a mannequin factory, which reminded me of a similar sequence in Stanley Kubrick’s early film, Killer’s Kiss.

From Paris With Love occasionally whiffs of other, better partnered-in-crime thrillers like Training Day and Collateral, but mostly relies on the huge backlog of clichés frequently employed by action movies: the imperiously quiet evil of Asian drug runners, the explosive-laden suicidal tendencies of Middle Eastern drug runners and terrorists, and the officious yet oblivious diplomats who abhor anything that might breach their precious protocols. A goateed, bazooka-firing Travolta just ruins their day. From Paris with Love is another formulaic example of the action spy movie, like a fast-food burger with an extra slice of cheese — momentarily fulfilling, but ultimately forgettable.