Playing completely against type, Jackie Chan is Jimmy Tong, a taxi driver turned chauffeur, who manages to get involved in the dangerous world of international espionage, combating a megalomaniac bent on taking over the world's water supply. His only weapon in this fight against terror is the tuxedo of his incapacitated CIA agent boss, Clark Devlin (Jason Isaacs doing a tired riff on James Bond). No ordinary penguin suit, this tuxedo allows its wearer to become superhuman in every aspect. So, assuming Devlin's identity, Tong sets out to avenge his boss with the help of a novice CIA agent (Jennifer Love-Hewitt and her gravity defying breasts, which really should have been given an independent credit, such is the director Kevin Donovan's adolescent obsession with them).
I've yet to meet anyone who goes to see a Jackie Chan film on the strength of the plot, and The Tuxedo is highly unlikely to alter that particular statistic. Indeed, if anything, the premise of The Tuxedo is even more idiotic than the majority of Chan's recent output. Regardless of the plot discrepancies, The Tuxedo should soar in the physical comedy of the action sequences, but there's little real energy or spontaneity to them. The gimmicky nature of the suit and the overbearing special effects take prominence over the usual innovative nature of Chan's action sequences and the end result is something that wears out its welcome long before the final credits roll.
