Luc Besson has always been sort of an enigmatic cipher of a filmmaker. Nearly a decade ago, when I first witnessed "Le Femme Nikita," I was convinced that a new master cinematic stylist had been born. Already a sensation in Europe from his first film, "The Big Blue" (which was released heavily cut stateside), "Le Femme Nikita" was a marvel of progressive, feminist action - from a man clearly as in love with his lead actress and with the mechanics of a camera, action and violence. It was a show case role for actress Anne Parillaud and a kicky piece of movie fakery, beautiful set pieces, memorable music and sleek, inventive technique.

And though I have never been a fan of Besson's "The Professional," I thought his daring amalgam of style, fashion and space opera was grand in "The Fifth Element." For all the goofiness in his scripts, he has an expert way of glossing over the deficiencies with panache and loony invention.

When I saw how heavily attached he was to his latest venture, "The Transporter," I expected more of the same grand silliness in which he's indulged since his beginnings. But "The Transporter," co-written and co-produced by Besson but helmed by action director/choreographer Corey Yuen, never manages to take off, grounded in action set pieces that are fitfully entertaining but add up to little.

Former Special Forces officer Frank Martin (a charismatic Jason Statham) leads a seemingly quiet life along the French Riviera, working solo as a "transporter" for hire, moving packages back and forth, no questions asked, no job too difficult. Frank's job is built on a fundamental set of rules, from which he never, ever deviates: Rule One: Never change the deal. Rule Two: No names. Rule Three: Never look in the package.

When a new transport job arises and Frank finds himself en route to his drop-off destination, he's thrown a curve when his package begins to move - and turns out to be beautiful, feisty, young Lai (Shu Qi, displaying physical presence but questionable talent). When he learns her secrets and reluctantly breaks his own rules, all hell breaks loose - he ends up hunted, on the run and embroiled in a network of deadly international smugglers who want him permanently silenced.

"The Transporter" is a curious film. On the one hand, I'd be willing to recommend it based on its consistent delivery of fun B-movie thrills, a charismatic star and entertaining action. On the other hand, I simply cannot recommend it, because it fails at creating any interesting human dimensions that would make any of the wild action work on more than a routine level.

And that's too bad. Because "The Transporter" provides some terrific thrills, a hypnotic musical score and absolutely stunning cinematography. On a technical level, it's a considerable achievement and will undoubtedly satisfy hard-core action enthusiasts.

And if it stuck to pumped up action and had no other aspirations, I might have been okay with "The Transporter." But as often happens in films like this, there's an attempt at a "story" and that's where things begin to fall flat. I've often complained about the onslaught of Hollywood films that employ big-budget, CGI effects or wild stunts that replace discernible human behavior, following by-the-numbers formulas while leaving you feeling more hollow inside than the film itself. And "The Transporter," for all its craftsmanship and the charm of its lead actor, fits all too well into that category.

Take, for example, the central relationship between Frank and Lai. For us to believe that this man - a brutish, avowed loner whose life and work are governed by rigid code - would throw everything away for a suspicious new acquaintance with questionable motives, whom he clearly has little more than momentary sexual feelings for, is a huge leap of faith. I never got the sense they felt any real "feelings" for each other that would bond them; team them up. Not in one scene do they even sit down, talk about life, their situation, their motivations, what drives them, what's broken them. We know next to nothing about them except what is defined by the events of the moment. Their relationship is thin and unconvincing. So for us, the outcome of their story holds little weight.

Watching "TheTransporter" I was reminded of another film this summer with a similar character - the assaulting, vapid "XXX." Both films have a rugged, take-no-prisoners hero, battling international villains, a tough and surprising female sidekick and some rousing action scenes. And though I found "The Transporter" much less pretentious, more hypnotic and unselfconscious, both films fall prey to the old cliché of style over substance.

But for me, "The Transporter" himself - star Jason Statham - made this film much more likable. He's effective in this film, without resorting to a one-line throwing, macho strut like Vin Diesel's XXX. He never seems overly impressed with himself (though we frequently are), saves his attitude for his fights and generally comes off like a regular guy with pretty amazing physical prowess and sly combat instincts. Compared to cocky Xander Cage of "XXX," a crime-fighting zero, who seems to stand for and be about nothing but machismo, fashion and attitude, Statham's Frank Martin seems refreshing and low-key.

I would be remiss not to point out a few expert action sequences in the film, such as one inspired scene regarding a vat of petroleum and a bicycle, and another involving a semi-truck careening down a mountainous highway, a fond homage to George Miller's classic "The Road Warrior."

But action aside, the intrigue of "The Transporter" is built on a feeble and routine plot regarding the smuggling and sale of illegal workers from Asia to Marseilles. It would seem that the selling of illegal aliens into slavery is a fairly salient issue as exploited illegal workers is a global issue. An exploration of that dimension would have complicated and deepened the human and moral dimension of the film; giving the action some sort of consequence or depth. But the filmmakers seem disinterested in pausing for long enough to examine the considerable human possibilities. And much like the generic baddies of "XXX," the villains here - "Wall Street" (Matt Schulze) and Lai's evil businessman father, Mr. Kwai (a fun, scenery-chewing Ric Young) - are serviceable but unmemorable.

Clocking in at barely ninety minutes, "The Transporter" is colorful, fast fluff that I am certain will satisfy those looking for B-movie diversions. And I realize that the intent of this film is not to supply even remotely realistic characters, rather to favor exciting sequences that each top the one prior. As a B-movie it succeeds in spades.