The Transporter

Spotting a gap in the market that passed the rest of us by, Statham has reinvented himself as a muscle-rippling, high kicking, accent mangling action hero for the post-Seagal generation - with hilarious consequences. It's difficult to describe the plot because there isn't one. Frank (Statham) is a professional criminal who earns a tidy wedge on the French Riviera by delivering parcels (drugs, money, fondant fancies, it's all the same to him) without asking awkward questions or letting the police interfere, as a nifty opening car chase proves. Frank's the anally retentive type of borderline psychopath who operates by strict personal rules, but when a chick (Shu Qi) - this is where it starts to get silly - falls out of a bag, he's forced to break with routine and do battle with all manner of foes sporting improbably hair. And fighting is really what this is all about. The acting might be shoddy, the plot nonsense and the dialogue clunky, but the fighting is exquisitely done. Inventive, athletic, fun, stylish and tight, it's everything the rest of the film isn't.