XXX

Sony Pictures/Revolution Films

Starring: Vin Diesel, Samuel L Jackson

Directed by: Rob Cohen

Good movies revolve around story, character and [the director’s] perspective. Successful movies, especially these days, revolve around effects, stars and, most important of all, timing.

This alphabetic outing from Fast And Furious director/producer Rob Cohen, falls squarely into the latter category. Armed with the sudden stardom of his lead, Cohen has built a mediocre but tiresome bit of entertainment around the standard B L S formula, that is, Big guns, Loud music and Silly stunts.

Imagine, for instance, snowboarding down a steep mountain slope – ahead of an avalanche. Or lifting a BMX motorcycle over a fifteen-foot high barbed wire electrified fence.

In between such visual fodder, the simplistic and largely meaningless plot unfolds: a terrorist group, based in the Czech Republic, has acquired chemical warfare capability and is ready to unleash it on the unsuspecting public. The leader of the group, played by czezh native Marton Csokas, also dabbles in outlandish nightclubs, where the movie’s sensory-overload soundtrack is showcased, with typical bombast.

Enter Xander Cage (A Hollywood-contrived name if ever there was one), extreme athlete and anti-establishment folk hero. Cage’s physical abilities, and devil-may-care attitude make him the prime candidate to infiltrate the terrorist cell. That only leaves National Security Agent Augustus Gibbons (the ever-busy Samuel L Jackson), to find a suitable hook. Xander’s three-strikes criminal record proves more than adequate, and he’s harmstrung into co-operating with the Feds.

Of course, every spy has to have a babe, and this time around, the promising Asia Argento fills the bill, as Yelena, herself a secret agent, hired by the Russians to effect the same mission as Xander. Even if you’ve spent half your life in a cave without as much as TV, you can guess that they’ll end up together.

That’s all the story worth telling. The rest is simply Diesel flexing those now ubiquitous tattooed biceps, the snarling terrorists, and Yelena’s feline aggressiveness. No one really stands out, but the principals do what is required of them. Diesel has been quoted as having “serious actor” aspirations (he really has the admiration of Steven Spielberg), but somehow, I can’t see De Niro or Hoffman, even in their lighest moments, delivering the kind of slick machismo that Diesel has clearly chosen to be his calling card.

Not that he has to worry. With the Xtreme Games opening his weekend, the movie is timed to perfection. He pocketed a cool 10 million for flexing his muscles this time around, and he’s already committed to the sequel (scheduled for 2004), for at least double the amount. Not bad for a former nightclub bouncer.

But to graduate to the ranks of respected actors, Diesel will have to learn the difference between wit and coarse humour, and – more importantly – the difference between acting and mere activity. When his movies have less of the latter, then he may actually be able to look back at XXX and laugh, rather than cringe.