Scarlett Johansson is the girl to party with. Just don't get on her bad side.
Basically, she gets roped by the Korean mafia into being a drug mule for some of the best dope ever manufactured. One of the heavies kicks her in the stomach, into which a bag of screaming shit is sewed, and the bag breaks. She immediately overdoses and catches fire -- I mean, for real. The girl over-amps and it's not just in her head: she physically, objectively levitates and hits the ceiling, then flies around the room like a witch from Club Universe. It just gets better from there... "Hello, my name's Scarlett Johansson, and I look hot in Versace while I kill evil motherfuckers with my god-like brain." She discovers a taste for this rather empowering successor to flakka and meth, and instead of crashing, burning, and going to rehab, essentially becomes a deity. And of course, there's Morgan Freeman in a cash-grab role as the stentorian (when is he not stentorian?), avuncular neurologist she contacts for "help." Not help with twelve stepping, but help slamming and jamming until the bitch is time travelling and divulging the secrets of the universe in a way that would make Philip K. Dick put down his rolled up dollar bill.
This empty calorie action romp is gleefully immoral (drugs really help you transcend time and space to become a ruler of the universe) and sabotages any case Luc Besson wanted to make about his issues with women. I give it 4 out of 5 stars -- it had me screaming at the screen: "Ooh girl, I wanna party with you! I got some shit, come on over!" Highly recommended for those of you at Walden House (although it's more triggering than BREAKING BAD.)