Taken 3 (2015)
DIRECTOR: Olivier Megaton
CAST: Liam Neeson, Forest Whitaker, Maggie Grace, Dougray Scott, Famke Janssen, Leland Orser, Sam Spruell
REVIEW:
WARNING: THIS REVIEW WILL CONTAIN “SPOILERS”
Taken 3 is what might be expected from an unnecessary sequel in a mediocre action franchise that arguably never needed sequels to begin with. 2009’s Taken was the best of these movies—and even then, it wasn’t that great—with each follow-up offering diminishing returns on the modest premise, and now #3 (directed like its 2012 immediate predecessor by original helmer Luc Besson’s protege Olivier Megaton, while Besson remains credited as a co-writer and producer) is the least of the three. Devotees of this series, or those simply looking for a fleeting diversion, might find it distracting enough to hold their cursory attention for a couple hours, but it’s a generic and forgettable action flick that offers nothing memorable.
As it turns out, the title is technically inaccurate, as no one is actually “taken” this time, and it also avoids the globe-trotting of its predecessors; having previously wreaked his vengeance across France and Istanbul, tough-as-nails ex-Special Forces agent Bryan Mills (Liam Neeson) is content to wreak havoc in his own backyard of sunny Los Angeles. This time around, when we catch back up with Bryan, he’s amicably divorced from his ex-wife Lenore (Famke Janssen), who has moved on into a troubled marriage with wealthy—and shady—businessman Stuart St. John (Dougray Scott). One day, Bryan comes home to find his ex-wife’s dead body stashed in his bed and the cops knocking at his door. Realizing he’s been framed, Bryan goes on the run from dogged Detective Dotzler (Forest Whitaker) while trying to prove his innocence with occasional help from his daughter Kim (Maggie Grace) and his trusty best friend Sam (Leland Orser).
To say Taken 3 does nothing innovative or surprising is an understatement. The skeletal “plot” exists as nothing more than a threadbare framework dropping the perfunctory amount of exposition to string an endless series of generic action sequences together, none of which are put together with any particular amount of cleverness or excitement, in addition to being incoherently-filmed (watch how many quick cuts it takes to show Bryan climbing over a fence). Whether the spastic editing is to obscure cuts between the aging Liam Neeson and his body double, or because Olivier Megaton went to the Paul Greengrass school of directing action sequences (or, as I’d suspect, both), it makes the fight scenes which were filmed with more brutal clarity in the first film choppy and confusingly-choreographed here. 63-year-old Liam Neeson survives an exploding car crash not once, but twice, and with nary a scratch on him, no less, and later he somehow runs unscathed through a hail of automatic gunfire from about three feet away (at this point, it’s unclear why the piteously outmatched assorted rent-a-villains even bother trying to kill him). The few bits of “drama” tossed in—Bryan’s daughter is pregnant with her boyfriend’s (Jonny Weston) baby, but they’re afraid to tell Dad—feel just as perfunctory and obligatory as they are, and despite a red herring tossed in (courtesy of some Russian gangsters, one of Hollywood’s favorite go-to villains and led by Sam Spruell who is yet again typecast as a creep), the identity of the primary bad guy is over-obvious and not likely to surprise anyone. The movie tries to mix things up a little by switching from the “avenging parent” formula to The Wronged Man and having Liam Neeson running from Forest Whitaker and doing his best impression of The Fugitive, but this whole plotline loses relevance as Bryan does his own resolving of the case and the cops are ultimately all but irrelevant for their minimal effect on how things work out. Forest Whitaker gets a lot of screentime, but Detective Dotzler seems to be on hand mostly to pad out the runtime and supply a few chase scenes; in hindsight he barely needed to be in the movie. He also gets saddled with the indignity of dropping this ridiculous monologue: “It was the bagels. I had to ask myself what kind of guy goes out for warm bagels and commits murder”. Sherlock Holmes-level deductive prowess this isn’t, despite some obligatory throwaway dialogue about how smart Dotzler supposedly is.
Liam Neeson does his Liam Neeson Action Hero thing, meaning he stalks around acting terse and grim and dispatches an endless series of thugs and goons like Jason Bourne’s equally unstoppable father, even though he’s arguably starting to look a little old to still be kicking this much ass (the level of quick cuts and editing obscuring switches between Neeson and a body double suggests this is in fact the case). Forest Whitaker gets the thankless role of running around after Neeson and ultimately barely having an effect on the plot. Suffice it to say that neither the prior Oscar nominee Neeson nor Oscar winner Whitaker gets anything challenging to do here. Maggie Grace gets to avoid being the human MacGuffin this time around, although unsurprisingly she still manages to end up as a climactic damsel in distress. Of the other returning series veterans, Leland Orser returns as Bryan’s trusty best friend, while Famke Janssen gets a thankless walk-on cameo. Taken 3 lacks a strong “main” villain. Dougray Scott lurks around looking sweaty and shifty-eyed and over-obviously suspicious; his Stuart is too weaselly to be menacing. Sam Spruell’s Russian gangster is nastier but doesn’t have much screentime and feels mostly thrown in as a red herring and, of course, to supply one more generic action sequence.
Taken 3 is exactly the kind of generic, forgettable action flick that can catch one’s cursory attention during a bout of late-night channel surfing, and then evaporate in the memory the moment it’s over. Devotees of this franchise, or those simply seeking generic throwaway action, might find it adequately diverting, but it never aims for or achieves anything above instantly disposable mediocrity.
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