Rated R

The trouble starts with the phrase, “Would you like to take a working vacation?” In the film, this is where our comely young heroine, a professional covert ops mercenary played by mixed martial arts champion Gina Carano, is set up, betrayed and generally screwed over by her own international cloak-and-dagger company. Judging by the shooting locations in Barcelona, Dublin, New York, New Mexico and Majorca, this may be exactly the phrase director Steven Soderbergh used to lure his formidable cast—including Ewan McGregor, Antonio Banderas, Michael Douglas, Channing Tatum and Michael Fassbender—into making this film.

The approach seems to be working for Soderbergh just fine, and surely the cast had plenty of adventures abroad between takes. But, as much as they all seem able to hit their marks and memorize their lines, it feels like all the fun happened off screen, leaving only a nagging suspicion that it is we, the audience, that has been set up, betrayed and generally screwed over.

“Haywire” was filmed two years ago, and one can’t help but wonder exactly what Soderbergh was going through at the time. It was right around then that he started hinting to the press that he might be getting bored with his chosen profession. At the same time, he began to experiment with “professional” amateurs in major roles (most conspicuously popular porn star Sasha Gray as a call girl in 2009’s “The Girlfriend Experience”) and soon thereafter Carano as a kick-punching badass for “Haywire.” Certainly, this woman is a good 40 miles of rough highway, with hard shoulders and some dangerous, dangerous curves. She’s a knockout in every sense, which is to say she’ll knock you out cold—and her ability to flatten every man she comes up against is unquestionable. This is a person you would not want to meet in a dark alley, but, unfortunately, she’s also someone you probably shouldn’t have to meet in a dark theater.

Carano is not, in any sense, an actress. Though she exudes a definite animal charisma and solidly commanding presence, surrounding her with such a high-power boys club (there is not one other female character in the whole show) only serves to crisply define the emptiness of the space she’s supposed to inhabit. She delivers her few perfunctory lines like she’s pounding a sandbag, and, just as she repeatedly makes human ThighMasters out of her costars, she squeezes every bit of life out of their performances, as well.

The good news is that there is actually very little dialogue. Soderbergh may simply have been using this film as an excuse to brush up on his combat techniques for his proposed “The Man From U.N.C.L.E.” remake (before his budget broke the project and it was handed over to Guy Ritchie). He definitely provides some degree of excitement in these moments, dropping all the usual Hollywood pretension (and giving welcome reprieve to the jazzy, completely ill-fitted “Pink Panther” score) for a brutal, bone-cracking sincerity. His fight scenes, all featuring Carano doing what she does best, are cleanly focused and uncommonly threatening. But the lack of any emotional center leaves the action to stand thoroughly alone, rendering everything in between completely extraneous. There’s simply no reason to buy a ticket to see a feature film in which Carano is only doing a staged version of what she does with far more effect live in the ring.

In a moment of rare industry candor, frequent Soderbergh collaborator Matt Damon recently told The Los Angeles Times, “He’s kind of exhausted with everything that interested him in terms of form. He’s not interested in telling stories. Cinema interested him in terms of form and that’s it. He says, ‘If I see another over-the-shoulder shot, I’m going to blow my brains out.’”

Though having very much deserved his Best Director Oscar for “Traffic” and his nod in the same category for the Julia Roberts-starring “Erin Brockovich,” Soderbergh’s true ennui is beginning to show. “Haywire” doesn’t function any further than its primary gimmick of casting an actual fighter into its fight scenes, and the film smacks of lethargy, apathy and contractual obligation. Sad as it may be to admit, Soderbergh’s retirement may be the best thing for everyone.

Originally published in The Wire .