Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Scarlett Johansson, Emily Mortimer, Matthew Goode, Brian Cox, Penelope Wilton, James Nesbitt. Directed by Woody Allen

Woody Allen's first film shot entirely outside of his native New York is a departure, not just geographically, for the veteran writer-director. For Match Point is not an acerbic romantic comedy of contemporary mores.

The battle of the sexes continues apace in Allen's new film, set in the giddy social whirl of present day London. But it's with a shotgun rather than witty discourse, as the veteran filmmaker constructs a serpentine thriller of subterfuge and betrayal in the spirit of The Talented Mr Ripley.

Scarlett Johansson is the solitary American among the principal British and Irish cast and she is certainly one of the best things about Match Point, bringing a smouldering sensuality to her role as a self-destructive actress.

However, it takes two to tango, and regrettably her leading man is dancing all by himself. Jonathan Rhys Meyers isn't convincing as the tragically flawed hero - his performance is one-note and stilted. You don't believe in his character, nor in his shocking actions to cover up deceit.

Match Point opens with a shot of a tennis ball hitting the net tape and spinning tantalisingly in the air.

"There are moments in a match when the ball hits the top of the net and for a split second it can either go forward or fall back," drones former tennis pro Chris Wilton (Rhys Meyers). "With a little luck, it goes forward and you win. Or maybe it doesn't, and you lose."

At first, it seems as if Chris is winning. He lands a coveted position as a coach at an exclusive club, where well-to-do Tom Hewett (Goode) immediately takes a shine to him.

Then Tom's sister Chloe (Mortimer) falls for Chris's chiselled good looks and they become engaged. A marriage would satisfy everyone: Chloe gets the man of her dreams; her parents Alex (Cox) and Eleanor (Wilton) inherit a charming son-in-law; and Chris gets his footing several rungs up the society ladder.

But trouble looms large when Chris falls under the spell of Tom's sexy girlfriend Nola (Johansson). They pursue one another, behind the backs of their respective partners, with tragic consequences.

Aside from the luminous Johansson, Allen doesn't serve up many aces with Match Point.

His script is engrossing without ever being truly gripping, and is undermined by the double faults of Rhys Meyers' performance and a frankly ludicrous denouement.

Goode delivers on his promise as the new Hugh Grant, plying a nice line in self-deprecating charm, while Mortimer invests her upper-class butterfly with enough insecurity to convince us that she would fall for someone like Chris.

But keeping with Allen's tennis analogy, this new film isn't a smash, it's a let down.