It sounds like a pretty basic (yet can't-miss) project: Take two of the biggest international action stars, plunk them down into a basic plot framework, and just wait for the mayhem to start mounting. I'll admit that the idea of seeing Jason Statham and Jet Li reign War on one another sounded like a pretty amusing way to waste 90-some minutes. And then the lights went down. And the movie started. And then for another 90-some minutes, I began wondering why I ever switched my major from education to film studies.
It's amazing how many things the all-first-timer team of (director) Philip Atwell, (screenwriters) Lee Smith and Greg Bradley get wrong here, so I'll just get this ridiculously obvious joke out of the way and then get onto the review: War. What is it good for? Absolutely nothing. Whether you're there for Statham's cool blend of wit and toughness or for Li's amazing martial arts skills -- you'll walk away from War disappointed. This is a movie that has two actors who are more than capable of delivering solid action scenes, and yet the duo are constantly undone by Atwell's ham-fisted directing, a screenplay full of ideas that were old-hat about 25 years ago, and an editorial approach best described as "hyper-spasmodic, with extra strobe lights."