Liam Neeson can and will kick your ass. He’s 61 years old and will fuck your shit up if you piss him off. In the latest Liamventure, everyone’s favorite dad is an air marshal named Bill Marks on a flight headed across the Atlantic. It looks like it’s going to be another relaxing night of boozing it up and crying about his dead kid, but then suddenly Neeson gets a text message from someone. Oh goody! A texty-text from one of his bffs! The last time he texted with someone he ended up sending a picture of his penis with a smiley face attached, which came across totally wrong because he was really just giving context to a submarine joke and his friend thought it was an invitation. That of course led to one crazy night and the most interesting use of scrambled eggs and frozen Taquitos anyone has ever heard of, but that’s for another story.
Anyway, so Marks gets this text but it’s not a fun one. It’s some rando telling him that every 20 minutes, someone on the plane will die unless $150 million is deposited to an account. Marks doesn’t play that shit, so he immediately embarks on an epic quest across the airplane to find the person doing the text messages. Julianne Moore is also in the movie. It could be anyone! In a twist, it turns out that the account belongs to Marks. Damn, son! This movie has more twists the classic Matthew McCaughnehay (how the fuck do you spell that? I’m not looking it up) movie The Plot Twist Lawyer. Who is the real terrorist?
The filming is, for the most part, slicker than a duck’s butthole. Tasteful long takes, nice tracking shots, and a pretty cool graphic of text messages floating around a character’s head with some nifty twists on the effect. BUT WHY COULDN’T ANYONE ELSE SEE IT?
The answer: Because there was no one else in the theater at my early-ass showing.
Red herrings are well utilized, as at any given moment the movie explores the possibility of any passenger being the terrorist. Some of the supposedly guilty parties include the cop, the Arab, the black guy, the nerd, the woman, and the Liam Neeson. Yes, the gamut of stereotypes (but not really, I just framed it that way) includes the protagonist, as in true The Perfect Getaway style, the villain might actually be Marks himself.
Much like someone resisting the urge to masturbate for a week and then treating himself on Saturday, Non-Stop’s relatively grounded (but not literally of course, because it’s in a plane that flies) story explodes into ridiculous action by the end, switching into full-on disaster movie mode with explosions, debris, a fuck bomb (in a PG-13 movie, hide yo kids!), a real bomb, and that fucking awesome shot in the trailer with the gun catching and the shooting. So cool. I want to frame that shot and hang it above my bed to jerk off to because I was getting bored of the picture of Charlize Theron spreading her legs.
Stop me if you’ve heard this one before: a former cop, who no longer has any family and is tortured by that fact, has descended into alcoholism and being a dick to everyone. Faced with adversity, he realizes that if he can possibly save everyone, he might have his chance at redemption.
Yes, it is indeed the archetype for every cop in every cop movie, more or less. And it’s right here as well. It hits all of the bullet points: people give him a hard time for his problem, he’s kind of an asshole, and he has a picture and keepsake from his daughter so he can remember her. Also, he hates flying, which is why he didn’t have a dead baby pity party with Sandra Bullock in Gravity, because he couldn’t handle the stress of going so far up into space in something vaguely penis shaped, which hearkens back to the text joke I made earlier and was not planned in any way. Seriously, I’m just writing this shit because I’m dehydrated and hung over. But yeah, the movie is clichéd. Just wait until you hear what the terrorist’s motives are.
Pretty good movie. I liked the part on the plane.
Take a Drink: every time Marks slams someone’s face into something.
Take a Drink: for every new twist.
Do a Shot: for every time Marks violates someone’s civil liberties.
Take a Drink: every time there’s turbulence.
Give Yourself a Pat on the Back and Go Fuck Yourself: if you guessed everything about the final twist and boast about it. Good for you.