"Have you ever fired two guns whilst jumping through the air?" So
asks one character in Edgar Wright's excellent 2007 comedic tribute to
buddy-cop movies, Hot Fuzz, in a moment meant to highlight the simultaneous ridiculousness and awesomeness of that particular action-movie trope.
In Non-Stop, Liam Neeson doesn't fire two guns, nor does he jump through the air. He does, however, grab
a gun in midair while in a zero-G nose-dive on a transatlantic flight,
and fire said gun whilst floating through the cabin. In slow motion.
It's Liam Neeson at his Neesoniest, and yet another entry in his
expanding late-career bloom into gruff and commanding action hero.
Non-Stop bears a surface similarity to the glossy European-style high trash of 2008's Taken,
but Neeson's Bill Marks in this film is a far cry from the ex-CIA
operative — "with a very particular set of skills" — he played in that
film. Marks is a Federal Air Marshal, and his particular skills largely
involve numbing himself with a very Irish coffee on the way to his next
flight and managing to have a smoke undetected in the airplane lavatory.
The flight attendants on his regular New York-London route know his
habits well enough that they bring him bottled water when he futilely
orders a gin and tonic.
We see the flight as he sees it: hazily, as an endless parade of
potential evildoers, even though chances are that in the course of his
air-marshal career — which he's landed in after a personal tragedy gets
him kicked off the police force — it's unlikely he'll ever share a cabin
with an actual terrorist.
Except, of course, on this day: The
secure network Marks uses to communicate with the TSA is breached and he
begins receiving texts from a passenger on his flight, who claims
someone on the plane will be killed every 20 minutes unless $150 million
is transferred into a specified bank account. So begins a lengthy game
of cat-and-mouse, as Marks tries to solve an increasing number of
murders on this transatlantic express.
The film's early look through Marks' eyes at his fellow fliers winds up being extremely important; Non-Stop
is less a nonstop actioner and more a high-flying whodunit. As such,
it's important for director Jaume Collet-Serra and writers John W.
Richardson and Christopher Roach to keep viewers guessing until the big
reveal.
They may go a little overboard: Of the plane's 150
passengers, a remarkably high percentage spend time as potential
suspects, making this jet into a flying tin can of red herring. The
confusion over the identity of the killer, who mysteriously manages to
text Marks constantly, as well as killing multiple people mid-flight
without being detected, also serves to leave the marshal barely in
control of the passengers. For a variety of reasons, they think it's
Marks himself who's causing the chaos and perhaps even hijacking the
flight.
Non-Stop isn't a great film; it may not even
be very good, and it's undeniably convoluted and silly. Yet I enjoyed
nearly every moment. Sure, it's probably 15 minutes overlong, thanks to
that excess of misdirection. Add to that the ham-handed politics of the
real intentions of the hijacker once the big reveal finally comes — the
culmination of an undercurrent of blunt political commentary about air
security and prejudicial assumptions about terrorism that runs through
the entire film.
But if it works, it's because Neeson and
Collet-Serra, as well as Julianne Moore as Neeson's business-class
seatmate Jen, are all fully aware of how ludicrous this exercise is.
Witness the wry joke Collet-Serra uses to obscure onscreen expletives in
text messages that would have otherwise given the film an R-rating, or
the way Moore's breezy nonchalance provides a counterbalance to Neeson's
studied intensity.
And especially take note of that mid-air
gravity-free gun-grab, which is a winking celebration of everything
that's completely absurd about this sort of film. Neeson does indeed
have a very particular set of skills — in elevating the generic action
thriller into guilt-free popcorn pleasure.
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