Producer/writer Luc Besson and director Pierre Morel forged a surprise hit with Taken, a taut B movie that featured unusual casting (Liam Neeson as a spy equally fiery and sentimental) and emphasized character interaction rather than guns, gadgets and girls. Their latest encounter lacks Taken's heart and verve, serving instead as a showcase for John Travolta's manic riffing as an unreconstructed Cold Warrior who's been at war too long. Sporting a shaved head and spouting borderline racist and xenophobic comments, Travolta's Charlie Wax is a James Bond knockoff minus the veneer of sophistication. But he's still an effective figure as he roams the world cleaning up messes caused by diplomats and bureaucrats — a task that forces him to align with a naïve, brainy ambassador’s aide (the terrific Jonathan Rhys-Meyers) to thwart a terrorist plot aimed at an upcoming summit. The fast-moving narrative unfolds briskly enough to clear the necessary leaps in logic and continuity that ensue as Wax goes from being G.I. Joe to Sherlock Holmes. Even so, the storyline's intersection of drug dealers and Islamic jihadists is thematically wobbly, and some of Wax's statements about impending Armaggedon are patently offensive. Besson and Morel know their audience, and they insert plenty of the genre's staples into their mix, including umpteen shootouts, martial arts sequences and car chases. But somehow I doubt Travolta’s catchphrase "Wax on, Wax off" will be replacing "shaken, not stirred" anytime soon in the hip spy dictionary. — Ron Wynn