When stunt casting works, it’ll be for one of two reasons.
Every once in a while, though, an actor takes themselves off in a radical direction that pays off so grandly, we can only wonder what took them so long.
Leslie Nielsen post- Airplane! once held the mid-career turnaround record – at least until Liam Neeson went from being everyone’s favourite mentor to single-handedly destroying Paris in Taken .
Since 2008, we’ve gotten used to Oskar Schindler’s move from saving lives to, well, taking them ( The A-Team , Unknown ), but it’s important to remember what a refreshing shock the sheer scale of Neeson’s makeover was.
Even while beating up Christian Bale in Batman Begins , he’d been more sage than bruiser, and in most of his other roles had been settling into middle age as a kind of lanky, celtic Morgan Freeman.
He was a reassuring voice of benign authority, a man who could give stubbing his toe Mandela-esque degrees of stoicism and dignity.
He played Aslan, for Christ’s sake.
Then something happened. The folks at Luc Besson’s Europacorp studio were mulling over who to cast in a quasi-remake of Commando they had rolling around.
Vin Diesel? Bruce Willis? Dolph Lundgren? They had the brawn, but where was the class? It’s a French company, after all.
Then someone, somehow, had a brainwave. What about l’acteur Irlandais Liam Neeson?
He’d had fight training for Star Wars: Episode I and Batman Begins .
He was big, and touted enough ‘Norn Iron’ grit to suggest he could lay the smack down.
Crucially, he was a seasoned enough pro to be able to sell the most preposterous nonsense as powerful drama – convenient when you’re purveying cheerfully retrograde tosh like Taken .
Think about it. Pierre Morel’s film could, without a great deal of tinkering, be a Steven Seagal vehicle.
Lord alone knows what Neeson saw in the part of a quasi-omnipotent CIA agent with politics that made Nick Griffin look like Tony Benn; what’s important, though, is that he took it and boy did he make the most of it.
A man previously best known for breaking down at the end of Schindler’s List was now throat-punching his way around the world, dispensing rough street justice as he chose, and doing it as if to the manor born.
There’s a reason why Schwarzenegger never played the Dane, and why Philip Seymour Hoffman is unlikely to fight a man for a parachute in mid-air.
It’s a profoundly different skillset, so when an actor crosses over and displays equal facility in both enigmatic stares and breaking necks, it’s a rare thing, and to be cherished.
Taken was the film where Liam Neeson somehow managed to straddle both camps; can you imagine Daniel Day-Lewis, Colin Firth or Jeff Bridges doing it half as well?
And that’s why Taken is his greatest role. Or is it just me?
VOICES OF REASON
Matthew Leyland
It was a relief to see Neeson break from the mentor mould and do something down ‘n’ dirty. But his greatest role? K-19: The Widowmaker . Clash Of The Accents...
Sam Ashurst
Name his character. Go on. I want you to remember it. No? It’s Bryan Mills. A character name you can’t even remember is not more remarkable than Oskar Schindler. Aside from the vague Euro-racism, Taken is fun, but it’s a CV entry, not a career-definer.
Jane Crowther
By that criterion couldn’t the same be said for thesps Morgan Freeman and Helen Mirren beating up thugs in Red ? Didn’t think so.
Rosie Fletcher
It’s not just you! Liam made a morally dodgy movie kind of sweet – who wouldn’t want him for a dad? Don’t agree about Daniel Day-Lewis though. He’d drink Neeson’s milkshake.
