If there’s one decent thing (and this is a strong “if”) about The Pang Brothers’ new westernized reconstruction of their own 1999 Thai underworld thriller of the same name, it may only be the opportunity it presents for devising more appropriate titles. Get your pencils out, kids, and let’s give it a whirl.

1) “Bangkok Monotonous”—Nicholas Cage, as a solitary, globetrotting gun for hire, is summoned to Bangkok for “one last job” before a well-earned retirement. He mumbles through his exhausted, allegedly “hard-boiled” narration with a fatigued, single-note drone that could suck the air out of the Grand Canyon. It makes Harrison Ford’s original (and popularly loathed) “Blade Runner” voice-over sound positively Shakespearian.

2) “Bangkok Incongruous”—In the opening scene, as he intones for us the four rules of successful assassins, a code that he’s apparently survived by and thrived on for his entire lifetime, the phrase “Always stay anonymous,” follows the introduction, “My name is Joe,” by about 90 seconds. This contradiction serves as a fascinating foreshadow of Joe’s mystifying inclination to arbitrarily dismiss his golden rules with zero perceptible provocation.

3) “Bangkok Capricious”—The confounding, head-scratching, blatantly inconstant nature of the main character is distinctly echoed in the pace of the film. The action, for what it’s worth (not much), skids wildly between poorly choreographed but fairly high-octane John Woo-style assassination set pieces (sadly devoid of any of John Woo’s actual style), and interminable romantic interludes with a cute young pharmacist with whom Joe puzzlingly realizes a fairly uncomfortable obsession. The whiplash pedal-to-the-metal/brake-to-the floor transitions are made only more abrupt by sudden shifts between a hard rockin’ guitar-driven score, and a syrupy “Incredible Hulk” variety piano twinkling that underscores Joe’s aimless meanderings with his new flower vase of a girlfriend.

4) “Bangkok Misogynous”—Joe’s inexplicable fixation with a random, otherwise uninvolved drug store employee might not in itself be so distasteful, if she weren’t an innocent, deaf, mute girl half his size whose name he doesn’t bother to learn until their third date. Demure to the point of subservience, she shyly bows (sometimes literally) to his every desire, never once requiring even the most basic of human reciprocation from him. This film’s ability to reduce masculine longing to such intense seen-and-not-heard, ask-no-questions detachment is beyond sexist, patently absurd, and actually a little disturbing.

5) “Bangkok Dubious”—For a world-class killing machine who describes himself as “a ghost” and makes his living by moving in shadows and leaving no witnesses, Joe burns an awful lot of fuel rocketing around the city’s greasy streets, recklessly weaving through traffic and gunning through intersections with thunderous abandon. When not noisily threatening vehicular homicide at every turn, one would think he might at least make an attempt to tame his rowdy, “Da Vinci Code” hairdo while stomping around the markets in his supersonic Bahama shirts. Beyond these remarkable conspicuosities, there’s the greater question of the apprenticeship he develops (develop is probably too strong a word) with a two-bit pickpocket he hires off the street as his courier, assistant and occasional translator. If this is indeed Joe’s “last job,” the ultimate efficacy of three weeks of little “Karate Kid” sessions is highly doubtful. Why should they bother? And why should we?

6) “Bangkok Laborious”—It’s fair to say that even low-brow, high-test, brain-numbing action flicks have their place, but the very least we expect is for them to be a little fun, if only just enough to cross the threshold into being so bad that it’s amusing. The film is so convinced by its own empty, humorless pathos that it just plods glumly along through its uneven, disconnected paces, dragging the audience behind with not a whit of originality, appeal or entertainment value.

7) “Bangkok Emulous”—To describe this untidy muddle as a pastiche or collage or quilt, of clichés would be to offer The Pang Brothers and Cage (credited also as producer) way too much artistic credit. Perhaps a collection? Nah, even that suggests some degree of deliberate attention. Let’s just call it a heap.
This could go on all day. Emotionless. Lifeless. Self-serious. Toothless. Obnoxious. Amorphous. Colorless. Ponderous. Ludicrous. Odious. Ignominious. Atrocious. Possibly even Larcenous. If you’re paying to see this sideshow, you should probably just consider your money stolen.