Neil Shaw (Wesley Snipes) is an elite American operative with the counter-terrorist branch of the United Nations. He works above and beyond the law (as far as the US government is concerned, he doesn't exist), exposing the dirty tricks and espionage of corrupt governments and administrations.

On the eve of a historic summit to forge new trade ties between the East and the US, China's envoy to America, Ambassador Wu (James Hong), is assassinated at a dinner attended by political heavyweights including UN Secretary General Douglas Thomas (Donald Sutherland) and security chief Eleanor Hooks (Anne Archer).

Shaw is framed for the assassination, as well as the subsequent murder of his partner Bly (Michael Biehn). Hung out to dry by his bosses - who would rather sacrifice him than expose their top secret operations - Shaw has no choice but to escape police custody and search for evidence to convict the real killers.

On the run from the Triads and his former colleagues, Shaw seeks help from beautiful translator Julia Fang (Marie Matiko) and long-suffering FBI agent Capella (Maury Chaykin).

They uncover an intricate web of intrigue and lies involving the uppermost echelons of power, including several key figures in the counter-terrorist branch.

Taking its title from an ancient handbook by powerful Asian general Sun Tsu, who believed wars could be one without actually having to fight, The Art Of War is a slick but unsatisfying political potboiler which - like its testosterone-fuelled hero - hits hard first and thinks later.

Snipes is completely wasted in the central role of the gung-ho trouble-shooter, apparently impervious to everything that screenwriters Wayne Beach and Simon Davis Barry throw at him.

He dodges hails of bullets and jumps stomach-churning 30ft drops without breaking sweat or injuring himself in any way. He's also an expert at kung-fu and a keen marksman - you almost feel sorry for the enemy, battling against this emotionless, superhuman fighting machine.

Archer is cast against type as the cold-hearted bitch in authority and carries the role off with aplomb but it hardly stretches her, and Sutherland collects his pay cheque for all of 10 minutes screen time. Both speak their lines as if they are reading off cue cards, just out of shot.

Plotting is disappointingly linear, signposting the handful of twists well in advance, revealing allies to be enemies and resurrecting peripheral characters who were apparently killed in reel two but were just playing dead.

Director Christian Duguay takes hold of the action sequences by the scruff of the neck and is eager to prove himself with a dizzying array of camera angles, special effects and hyperkinetic editing.

He's particularly partial to slow-mo fisticuffs a la John Woo and flags up key scenes by filming them in black and white, as if realising that without this stylistic quirk, the audience wouldn't pay any attention to his film at all.