By now, you’d imagine, word would have gotten out among Albanian human traffickers and other odd assortments of international bad guys that it never pays to mess with Bryan Mills’ family. The former black ops special agent “with a very particular set of skills” (played to badass perfection by Liam Neeson in Taken and Taken 2 ) always delivers on his promise to “look for, find and kill” them.
But the memo doesn’t appear to have reached a somewhat wimpy Russian mobster Oleg Malankov (played by Sam Spruell) and his band of tattooed baddies. This time, Mills and his family don’t even have to leave Los Angeles for foreign shores before trouble comes calling. Under the terms of engagement that Neeson set for the producers for the third (and final) film in the franchise, no one gets “taken” in Taken 3 . But a far more fatal fate befalls his ex-wife Lenore (Famke Jenssen), and Mills finds himself framed in the murder.
In walks rubber band-twirling, chess-piece-clutching detective Franck Dotzler (Forest Whitaker playing what he reckons is a quirky role, which however comes out only all dolty), and the sense of déjà vu inspired by the thematic familiarity with The Fugitive is complete. Neeson is forced on the run for much of the film, trying to figure out who has set him up—and simultaneously protect his daughter Kim (Maggie Grace) from being “taken”.
The thread of mystery, as it unravels, leads him back to his ‘family’.
Age clearly tells on Neeson’s character this time around. But even on tired, old legs, he kicks ass in regal fashion, with the same steely grit and gravelly voice that saw the franchise through virtually single-handedly.
The same can’t be said for the rest of the film, though. It’s perhaps a good thing that the series ends here, for it’s somewhat the worse for wear and tear, with the script (by Luc Besson and Robert Mark Kamen) falling limp in places. But the tempo is kept at a fast pace from virtually the first frame, with plenty of speedy car chases and gripping fist-fights, and in any case, Neeson is the trump card.
The lyrical cinematography by Eric Kress accentuates and amplifies the action scenes, and the opening credit sequence, in particular, with the camera panning over a lit-up Los Angeles, is bewitchingly beautiful. The slice-and-dice camerawork, with every frame made up of countless cuts, is idiosyncratic, and occasionally infuriating, but again keeps the movie rolling like greased lightning.
Taken 3 may not be the most spectacular end to the franchise, but what began in 2008 as a gamble — in pitching a 56-year-old as an action hero — has paid off in spades. Along the way, it reoriented Neeson’s acting trajectory — and provided his fans many thrills. Of few franchises can it be said that they exceeded their expectations. The Taken trilogy did it, in spades.
