If Liam Neeson isn't tired of the genre films he's cranked out in last decade, then neither am I. Directed by usual "Liam Neeson's family is in danger" thrillers Jaume Collet-Serra, their new movie "The Commuter" is exactly what you expect when you buy your ticket, and I would suggest buying one.
Liam plays "Michael McCauley," an ex-cop turned insurance salesman who has just lost his job. But how are he and his wife going to pay for their son to attend college? It is explained briefly, the only glimpse into his career, that he lost everything in the last recession. So, after a favorable meeting with his old pal Murphy (Patrick Wilson) and a shady introduction of his old boss Captain Hawthorne (Same Neil), Mike rushes off to catch his train ride home. That's when he meets Joanna (Vera Farmiga), who sets off the main chunk of the plot; find someone on the train who doesn't belong, with a bag that doesn't belong to them. He does all that he gets $100,000. Of course Mikey takes the money, and that's when the film gets that familiar "Liam Neeson" smell. And here, like always, it's a good smell.
We don't see much of them throughout the 105 minute running time, veteran actors who have little to do except show up, say some stuff and then go cash their paycheck. But their presence is welcome, and are a great complement to the grizzled Mr. Neeson.
The rest involves some fine hand-to-hand combat, fruitless suspicions, and a climactic train derailment. But while the fighting is well-choreographed, including one later in the film that is edited to look like it was a single take. It's fun! It's the "whodunit" moments that begin to creak as they're piled onto one another- though the final "it's not him it's him" did fool me, none of it is particularly satisfying. I'll accept all the moments that are far from believable (and trust me, there's enough to fill at least two other movies), but they need to convince me to buy what they're selling.
Yet while the skips in logic are abound, this is Liam's movie; he sells everything so well that it wasn't until I walked out of the theater that I started to discover all the cracks. But onscreen, I soaked up every weary look and every jaded threat he tossed out, and he tosses out a lot of them. Perhaps this post-Taken career is coming to a close, but after every punch he throws he looks winded, as if he needs to take his back pill before the next jab. And although he is still walking by the time the credits roll, despite being hit by everything shy of a bullet, I'd be surprised if in his next thriller he doesn't have to escape a nursing home. But I'd probably go see it.
