Taxi 2

Luc Besson is a French director who can be dangerously good (Nikita), or dismally awful (Joan Of Arc). Two years ago he wrote and produced a fast-paced caper film, called Taxi. It was neither good, nor awful. It was silly.

Now he's back for more. The obvious question is why? The script provides no obvious answers. The same characters do the same things, with less conviction. Cars are driven through crowded streets like wild things. Japanese bad boys wear black leather with balaclavas to look macho cool as the home team stumbles from one catastrophe to another.

Samy Naceri is the unregistered taxi driver who considers 200 kilometres-an-hour a reasonable cruising speed and Frederic Diefenthal the accident-prone cop who became his friend and Marion Cotillard his (still) sexually frustrated girlfriend.

The plot disguises the movie's raison d'etre, which is The Car Chase. A Japanese bigwig, who has come to France to sign an important trade deal, is kidnapped by the aforementioned leather people and transported from Marseilles to Paris. Naceri, Diefenthal and assorted flics follow in the supercharged taxi. Fights ensue, followed by The Chase, which is reminiscent of the final scenes in The Blues Brothers, when expensive motors indulge in acts of ritual suicide.

Besson provides work for stunt drivers. Naceri is even more laidback than before and Diefenthal less of an idiot. Cotillard's role has been diminished to that of Moaning Minnie, as she hangs around her mother's house, whining down the phone to Naceri about "feeling hot" and why wasn't he there to light her fire. As for the story, it dies of neglect. The roar of engines is all that matters.