Frank Martin (Ed Skrein) is the best in the business. A former special forces soldier, he's now a courier, known on the French Riviera as the go-to man for a host of shady characters who want their parcels delivered safely and without any questions. But Martin's qualifications can't help him when he gets tricked by Anna (Loan Chabanol) and her three beautiful sidekicks. The women kidnap Martin's father (Ray Stevenson), forcing Martin to help out in a scheme that will see the women rob and terrorise the crime bosses who forced Anna and her friends into prostitution 15 years ago.
So Martin starts up his Audi and chauffeurs them around Monaco, helping shakedown Russian crime lord Yuri (Yuri Kolokolnikov) and his evil colleagues. Along the way Martin must employ his fancy footwork in the car and use his amazing hand-to-hand combat skills to escape numerous tricky situations.
The Transporter Refueled is the fourth in the Transporter series of films. This one is directed by Camille Delamarre, and features an entirely new cast. And a lot of silliness. Take the car chases. Martin's car is a modified beast (Audi could show the film on a loop in its showrooms) but for all the car's power the police are always just behind his bumper – in their dumpy little Citroens. Until, they're suddenly not, and they crash at the last minute. The over-use of CGI removes any hint of elegance from these sequences. The fighting scenes are similarly lengthy and dull. Gangs of burly men don't stand a chance against Martin, no matter the laws of physics.
But it's all for a worthy cause: Anna and her friends getting revenge on evil pimps. But even the moralising isn't done right – the women are still just scantily clad objects. Two of them even bed Martin's father, these jaded prostitutes going weak at the knees for an old man.
The filmmakers try to add dashes of realism: a bumbling police inspector makes brief appearances, presumably to assure the audience that, yes, even on the French Riviera, the maiming of an entire battalion of traffic police, bodies filling Monaco's morgue at an alarming rate, and the robbery of several million Euros would not go unnoticed - he is looking into it; he's just not getting anywhere.
This is James Bond for the generation who can't delay gratification. Suspension of disbelief is fine, and this genre demands it. But here you need to discount nearly everything you have ever learned about the world. And for no reward.