Okay, I know this is supposed to be a testosterone-fueled film full of manly men doing manly things, but do they have to use the F-word so much? I mean, some form of it is used about 15 times in one of the first sentences. I’m no prude, but the gratuitous dropping of the F-bomb becomes distracting after awhile. Like the film itself, the word has plenty of explosive bluster, but very little heart.

I don’t recall Denzel Washington, who plays MTA authority Walter Garber, using it at all. But his colleagues, as well as bad guy Ryder, played by John Travolta, and his henchmen, use it enough for this film and five remakes. This is, of course, an updated version of the 1974 original, both taken from the John Godey novel of the same name. The first one starred Walter Matthau and Robert Shaw, plus Hector Elizondo, Jerry Stiller and Doris Roberts. This new version has equal star power, directed by Tony Scott, with the aforementioned Washington and Travolta, as well as James Gandolfini as the mayor of New York, John Turturro as an inept crisis negotiator, and Luis Guzman, who seems to be everywhere these days, as a flunky with an inexplicable and distracting bandage on his nose. There’s no shortage of star power or talent in this version.

There is, however, a shortage of the subtle emotion that would balance this film. It’s a subway car racing headlong toward its inevitable final destination, with only a few twists and turns that seem ridiculously improbable. There are minimal, brief roles for women, including: a mother who is a hostage, a needy girlfriend electronically linked up to her boyfriend who is also a hostage and Garber’s wife, who communicates with her husband on the phone a few times. Perhaps a stronger female presence could have lent the film more diversity of emotion and dialogue. Instead it’s an F-bombastic boy ride that falls far short of its incredible potential.

Rated R

—Lisa Johnson Mandell