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"I need a case of Old Spice!" screams Chris Tucker after he and Jackie Chan have taken evasive action in the Paris sewers. Sadly, it'll take more than that to dispel the stench of this belated three-peat, easily the weakest in a series that hasn't so much lost momentum as the will to live. With Jackie's advancing years forcing a distinct curtailment of his usual derring-do and Tucker's high-pitched improvs lacking even a passing acquaintance with humour, RH3 is running on empty from the off. You have to wonder, then, what Max Von Sydow and Roman Polanski are doing propping up the cast of a picture whose action beats, if neatly staged, can't hold a candle to The Bourne Ultimatum's, and whose so-called comedy depends on reinforcing insulting racial stereotypes.