A loser con artist in Paris has an unorthodox angel sent to him when he's at his tether's end. This being a Luc Besson film, she is a statuesque gamine model and can kick butt with the best of them. She proceeds to sort his life out in next to no time with scant attention paid to plot continuity or feasibility, with the icing on the cake being falling in love with the little gimp, played by the mystifyingly popular Jamel Debbouze, who seems to have it written in for every part that no-one refers to his lame right hand. It wouldn't be a problem except that here he's called to undergo some sizable physical challenges.
It's not that the film is unentertaining: Besson has enough tricks in his locker that he could probably direct this in his sleep. It just suffers heavily in comparison with the likes of
Wings of Desire in every emotional sense and the low-brow comedy doesn't do enough to compensate for the absence of magic.
4/10
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