The Marksman Review

Liam Neeson self cannibalizes his own career with the release of his latest thriller "The Marksman," which debuts just three months after this last thriller, "Honest Thief," which is probably still in cinamas. Imagine the confused movie goer, ten bucks in hand, mask on face, standing in a socially distanced theater, when they ask for the matinee showing of "... the new Liam Neeson film," and the person at the counter, behind the plastic safety screen, says "... which one?"

Neeson plays Jim, a rancher who's widowed, in debt, and seems to have developed a drinking problem. He also lives on the Mexico-Arizona border, when a mother Rosa (Teresa Ruiz) and son Miguel (Jacob Perez) crash through from the border, which he's conveniently driving off a hangover from the night before. Hot on their trail is the cartel, where talk is talked, shots are shot, but the three escape just long enough for a gunshot to take the poor woman's life. Honestly, I think Jim was more upset about the bullet holes in his truck (he doesn't look like the kind of guy who can pay for automotive insurance).

Before passing, Rosa begs for Jim to take Miguel to her relatives in Chicago, in exchange for "all the money she's got, or something to that effect, which in the world of movie making means "bag full of money." The bankrupted marine (because of course he was in the US Marines) drops the boy off to border patrol, cash in toe, only to grow a guilty conscience when he spots the bad guys waiting outside the station. The men, who hilariously use passports of elderly women, manage to make it past the country line after flashing the officer their tattoos. What happens had the gang not been checked by that one bent deputy is the type of question you don't ask here. Anyway, back to what's left of the plot:  Jim snatches the kid and the duo drive off with his dog to the Windy City, cartel not far behind.

As stated in the ye olde "Laws of Movie Clichés" book: the dog must die, the kid must bond with the grumpy old white guy, and gun store owners ignore background checks. All those things happen here- in fact there are so many stereotypes here, from the dialogue to actual plot points, that the next day you'll be talking about this over Zoom to your coworkers, only to confuse major moments with Clint Eastwoord's "The Mule," or perhaps his "Gran Torino," or if you're really into old action movies, something like Charles Bronson's "Borderline" from 1980. The only difference between those flicks and Neeson's latest is how talkative he is, at least compared to the famously silent aforementioned tough guys; even if he does more here than grunt, what he does say isn't all that remarkable.

That, I suppose, and that his face doesn't look like it's carved from rocks.

I'm conflicted here, since the film depicts all cops as corrupt, the government as useless, and all Mexican citizens as gang members with itchy trigger fingers. Yet it's well-made, a polished piece of entertainment with a more concrete vision than most of Liam's star vehicles. He's given some internal  confliction between "right and wrong" to work through (or at least this movie's version of it), and the relationship between his character and Miguel is almost poignant, even if it is, at the same time, forced to service the script. The commitment from the actors is commendable, despite Juan Pablo Raba's performance as Mauricio, the leader of the cartel, is hammy to the point of parody. Director Robert Lorenz, long-time producer of many Clint Eastwood projects, handles the material with refreshing restraint, and combined with some surprisingly decent cinematography by Mark Patten, "The Marksman" almost escapes its relentlessly fraudulent "American Dream" agenda.

I dunno. I don't think anyone goes to see Liam Neeson, during a pandemic mind you, expecting anything else but approximately two hours of approximate distraction.