The Runaways (2010)

The wait is over – and I was among the lucky few who were selected to see an advance screening of “The Runaways” tonight in Seattle.  As such, before you roll out to the movies this weekend, I want to set the record straight on this film.

To the haters who say this is just a click flick.  You’re wrong.

To the people who think this is just a film about Joan Jett.  You’re wrong.

To all the people who are going to see this film because Kristen Stewart and Dakota Fanning allegedly have a very hot, lusty love scene.  Forget that – it’s not what you’re imagining.

Leave your expectations at the door.

This is not a film for the weak of heart.  In the first 30 seconds of the film, you’ll understand what I mean.  This is a film about rock-n-roll, baby, and it is raw, and messy, and sexy as hell.  This is not the kind of movie you take your 10 year old daughter to, unless you’re ready for her to don thick black mascara, strut around in her underwear, and lip sync in the mirror.  Yes, this movie has that kind of effect…not that I’m speaking from personal experience…

Joan Jett first swaggered into my cultural universe when I was in middle school – a time when, like most girls, I was awkward and unsure of myself.  There is a significant historical, cultural, and social relevance to Jett’s life.  There is something at once fiercely transfixing and empowering about her single-minded passion for creating music – and this energy and intensity is ever present in Kristen Stewart’s performance.  The girl can really rock the Jett mullet, too.

But, the focus of The Runaways is Dakota Fanning, who at the ripe age of 15 has finally transcended a dramatic level many twice her age will never acheive.

As Cherie Currie, Fanning is brutally real – a disaffected hot mess.  You will feel uncomfortable with her sexualized performance.  Get past that.

Technical asides – Fanning and Stewart do lend their voices to the soundtrack.  Fanning’s “Cherry Bomb” rivals Cherie Currie’s.  The editing of the film is pitch perfect – and while there are lulls in the plot, the film is nothing short of noteworthy.  The film is atmospheric and thick with great moments – Jett and Curie beneath the Hollywood sign, the band playing a house party and deflecting beer cans with their instruments, Jett – maturing musically and moving on to her work with the Blackhearts, singing “Love is Pain” in the tub.

Dakota Fanning & Kristen Stewart, The Runaways (2010)

It’s no secret that biopics have a special place in my heart, and The Runaways is no different.  It perfectly encapsulates a moment in time when the world’s first all girl rock band was coming into their own and sticking it in the man’s face.

Put it on your “must see” list or I’ll kick your a$$…okay, maybe I won’t (or couldn’t if I tried), but I’m sure Joan Jett could…

Whip It (c) Fox Searchlight, 2009

Fox Searchlight – 2009
Starring: Ellen Page, Marcia Gay Harden, Drew Barrymore, Kristen Wiig, Juliette Lewis (and let’s not forget Zoe Bell)
Director: Drew Barrymore

Roller derby.  Never have two words instilled within me so much excitement and nervous anxiety.  The first time I saw a bout, I was hooked.  I even went so far as to buy a pair of Riedell skates a few years back and I started frequenting Skateland – a indoor skate track I’d gone to as a kid growing up in Olympia.  I was so into derby that I bought myself a few t-shirts for my favorite teams (the Holy Roller royal blue shirt with the mudflap girl, in particular, garnered lots of attention), and was called “trailer trash” by a colleague at work.

Ah, derby.  You can’t top it.  You can’t even match it.

I was lucky enough to score a couple of passes to an advance screening of Whip It which was shown tonight at the Uptown in lower Queen Anne.  We stand in line for an hour (it’s wet and cold – Autumn has definitely arrived in Seattle) and I’m struck by the wide range of people the film is drawing.  Everyone leaves the theater smiling, excited about what they’ve just seen.

Whip It is sharp, witty, relevant, poignant and exciting.  Yes…I just described a movie that is, at its heart, about derby.

Ellen Page stars as Bliss, a 17-year old contender on the Texas beauty pageant circuit.  I know, I know.  You’re probably asking yourself just how many times can an actress play a 17-year old…especially one that is going on 23.  But, Page is brilliant (and delightfully acerbic) as always, and if it weren’t for those knowing eyes, you would eventually forget she’s in her mid-twenties because of that smile.

Bliss, or “Blister” as her father calls her, discovers derby when three roller girls skate into an Austin “head shop” she has inadvertently taken her mom to buy shoes.  She convinces her best friend to go to a bout with her and afterward, Bliss is encouraged to try out for the Hurl Scouts by Maggie Mayhem (played deftly by Kristen Wiig).  Although she’s only 17, she lies and says she’s 22 — old enough to play without parental consent.

Digging out an old pair of Barbie quads, Bliss begins the transformation from beauty-pageant-high-school-beauty-turned-waitress to hard boiled derby dame, Babe Ruthless.

The women of "Whip It" - Barrymore, Page, Wiig

The film’s derby sequences are fast-paced and don’t be surprised if you have a hard time figuring out what you’re looking at – this is about as real as it gets when you see a bout person.  The action is fast and furious.  And while the violence depicted in the film is a bit over the top (I’ve never been to a bout where safety was the most important thing on everyone’s mind, and most of these moves would get a player ejected) it is fist-pumpingly good stuff.

Drew Barrymore makes directorial debut on "Whip It"

The film moves at a great pace, and no previous knowledge (or even love) of derby is required to enjoy it.  Juliette Lewis’ turn as Iron Maven is chocked with competitive elbowing that will leave you cheering (and jeering) in your seat.  Drew Barrymore (who makes her directorial debut here) is absolutely not to be missed.

Whip It opens on October 2nd in theaters nationwide.  Grab your girlfriends, or your hipster boyfriend, and check it out.

(unknown copyright) Leisha Hailey, Kate Moennig, and Ilene Chaiken @ GLAAD media awards

News has surfaced this week that Ilene Chaiken, whom some of you know as the creator of Showtime’s The L Word, was working on a upcoming reality tv show.   Now that her life-after-the-L-Word-prison-drama “The Farm” was passed on by Showtime, Chaiken has decided to once again turn her creative lens toward…well…lesbians…living in Los Angeles.  Except this time…they’ll be real!  Showtime has agreed to pick up the show for 9 episodes beginning in 2010, contingent upon casting.

The L Word, for many, was a guilty pleasure (not unlike Beverly Hills 90210, or the OC…yes, I said it)…myself included.  But, as the seasons waned on, I found myself wanting something a little more authentic.  Of course all of the actresses are amazingly hot, and talented (except for you, Leisha Hailey – I’m still pissed at you for canceling two concerts for Uh Huh Her in Seattle when you were “supporting” the release of Common Reaction).  And with so many people so scantily clothed, the show was definitely an escape from life in the Pacific Northwest where most of the women wear three or four layers of clothing all year.

I feel safe in saying, “Thanks, but no, Showtime and Chaiken.”  I think I’ve had about as much as I can take of your idea of lesbianism.  I realize that L.A. is like another country (okay, planet), but there is just no excuse for the abomination that became Jenny.  Why not get out of the comfort zone and do “The L Word: Portland?”  That I would tune in to see.  Talk about  real lesbians….dealing with real issues…and looking like hot little messes while they’re at it.  Delish.

Of course, with all of this said, if Chaiken’s screenplay for The L Word eventually gets green-lit, I bet you can guess who will be in the wings opening weekend…

xoxo

(photo copyright © 2006-2008 amber sharp, a.sharp productions. all rights reserved)

I’m becoming increasingly disturbed by the lack of new, lesbian-centric film as 2009 drags on through Summer.  With news hitting my inbox that Le Jupon Rouge is finally releasing on dvd, I’m reminded of a sad fact – when you get excited about the dvd release of a film made over twenty years ago, something’s wrong, people.

Thankfully, with the advent of the Internet, we can also get to films from the UK, Romania, Italy, Japan, and anywhere else you can imagine.  But, as for films that accurately reflect the trials, joys, and love lives (or lack thereof) of the American dyke, the selection is slimmer.  Unfortunately, it seems like those in the lesbian community (and others who, for some reason, enjoy lesbian cinema without themselves being queer) have about one, high quality, solidly produced, American film to look forward to a year…if we’re lucky.  Compare this to our queer brothers – who, by my count, have significantly more financial backing (due to, perhaps, greater interest) and in turn have significantly more celluloid to show for it.

With filming wrapped on the new Dreya Weber/Ned Farr project A Marine Story, and filming drawing to a close on the Joan Jett biopic The Runaways/Cherry Bomb, I’m left wondering if we’ll see either before year’s end – either at the Fall/Winter festivals or in cinemas.  Doubtful…sigh.

Which leads me to another question – Guinevere Turner, where the hell have you gone off to?  I’m sorry, but short films and little cameo appearances aside, you’ve all but disappeared from the landscape.  I realize your latest ventures, Feed & Don’t Go are both in (post)production – but again – it’s strictly an episodic affair, and we could really use your voice/vision in broader strokes…after all, if we’re not careful, we’ll see the bed-death of lesbian cinema sooner, rather than later (and I’ll blame you).

Joan Jett & Kristen Stewart - "Runaways"

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“…what a crappy week, but wait – there is something to be excited about!”

Production on the Joan Jett biopic The Runaways/Cherry Bomb (formerly titled Neon Angels) got underway recently.  And as if you couldn’t possibly already know this – Kristen Stewart (of Twilight/Panic Room fame) has been cast as the teenage Jett and Dakota Fanning (who is also costarring in New Moon) will be playing Cherie Currie.  Yes, it’s true, and unless it ends up on the cutting room floor, Stewart and  Fanning will share some pretty intense scenes in the film…put “love” in front of “scenes” and perhaps you’ll catch my drift.

Rumors started circling late last year that Stewart would be playing Jett in a project about the all-girl 70s band “The Runaways” when the two spent time together New Year’s Eve at a concert Jett was giving here in the PNW.  Over the last several months, Stewart has been spotted at Sunset Studios in LA where she and Jett have been laying down tracks for the film.

The film, written and directed by Floria Sigismondi and executive produced by Jett herself,  follows the rise and eventual fall (disillusionment) of 1970s seminal rock band “The Runaways” who were a driving presence in the L.A. punk scene.  Of her role in The Runaways/Cherry Bomb, Stewart says “[this is] an incredibly triumphant feminist story, really. She is an incredibly distinct personality, and so many people love and admire her, and so many people know her as just being one of the coolest people ever to live — and that, in itself, has been one of the most intimidating things that I have ever had to confront.”

Set for release sometime in 2010, we’ll just have to continue holding our breath and listening to our Runaways vinyl in the meantime.

Note: If you live in L.A. and are so inclined, there are open casting calls for extras – check it out here.

A Marine Story (c) 2009 Last Battlefield, LLC

Years ago, before I became attached at the hip with a twitterberry enabled Blackberry, I kept myself apprised of upcoming films whilst they were still in production by reading industry publications like Premiere magazine and Variety. It was nearly impossible to find any information about independent films until they were already in theatres or available for rental. Forget about finding anything relevant to the LGBT community – those films were rare, and unless you were lucky enough to live near a city with an annual film festival, you usually found out about these films years after they’d been released.

Over the years, it’s become easier to find great independent films, thanks largely to the Internet and, in recent months, tools like Twitter. It was during one of my morning Twitter breaks that I ran across a reference to a new Dreya Weber (The Gymnast/Everything Relative) project: A Marine Story which was scheduled to go into production that week. The film, which tackles the military’s “don’t ask/don’t tell” policy, also stars the dishy Paris Pickard and was written by Weber’s husband, Ned Farr, who directs.

The blog itself is absolutely teeming with information that is both interesting and trivial, making it a relative smorgasboard for indie film nuts like myself. It offers a rare glimpse into what it takes to get an indie film off the ground and onto the screen while making you feel as though you are along for the ride.

You can also follow the production of the film on Twitter (here).

Land of the Lost (c) 2009 Relativity Media

Relativity Media – 2009

Starring: Will Ferrell, Anna Friel, Danny McBride

Director: Brad Silberling

Predictable.  Juvenile.  Unimaginative.  Yes.  I’m talking about Will Ferrell’s performance in the big screen adaptation of the beloved 70’s television show Land of the Lost. I know I may be stepping on a few toes, and I have nothing against Will Ferrell (especially after his turn as doomed IRS agent Harold Crick in Stranger Than Fiction), but I have to side with those who are now questioning whether or not our love affair with Ferrell has come to an end.

Ferrell stars as Dr. Rick Marshall whose theories on quantum paleontology and time warping make him the laughing stock of the scientific community.  After a humiliating appearance on the Today show, when Matt Lauer rips him to shreds, Dr. Marshall finds himself giving presentations to field tripping school kids at the La Brea tar pits.  When a beautiful, young doctoral candidate named Holly (played by Anna Friel) throws a fossil onto his desk with the imprint of a Zippo, everything changes.  Following Holly to the middle of the desert, where she found the fossil, Marshall uses his recently completed tacyon-locating-device  to open a portal to another dimension where the past, present, and future all collide.

What Land of the Lost gets right: The film’s production is pitch perfect for a Summer blockbuster – especially the natural juxtaposition of 50s Americana (ie: the neon motel sign near the pool) and other well known iconographic architectural landmarks against the stark desert landscape.  Compare the film to the kitsch of the 70s television show, however, and you’ll see a film taking itself far too seriously.

What Land of the Lost gets wrong: Everything else.

Everyone knows its dangerous business remaking a show that has a cult following – especially when everyone involved seems hellbent on taking it to a different level.  Obviously you’re going to run the risk of alienating your existing fan base, which, in this case, is exactly what happened.  Add to this volatile cocktail a worn-through Ferrell who is starring as Will Ferrell here, not as Dr. Rick Marshall, and you have a film that falls flat against its great CGI, sets, and sound design.

The humor in Land of the Lost borders on the inappropriate – how much longer are we going to continue to laugh at gay, show tunes jokes?  It’s so played out.  And I know I’m not alone in saying seeing Ferrell’s half-naked, flabby, sweaty, hairy body isn’t just not funny, it’s crude and ridiculously lazy acting.  If you’re listening, Mr. Ferrell, you’re a good actor, but I beg you – please stop showing me your sweaty crotch in an attempt to make me laugh.  It’s gross and unattractive.

The final word: Land of the Lost should be a great family film well-suited to the Summer season but manages to fall desperately short of being funny, entertaining, or imaginative.  Even your kids will be able to predict what’s going to happen next, and unless you have a few prepubescent boys amongst your ranks, don’t expect a lot of laughs. If you must, and I emphasize must, queue it up on your Netflix account and have a night in.

Buckaroo Entertainment / Ghost House Pictures – 2009

Starring: Alison Lohman, Justin Long, Lorna Raver, Dileep Rao, David Paymer

Directed by: Sam Raimi & Ivan Raimi

Okay.  Let’s get this out of the way right now.  I’ve often abhored parents who take their children to see so-called horror films.  I’m not talking about their teenaged children, here.  I’m talking about infants, toddlers, kids that are barely in kindergarten yet.  So, this morning when I took my normal spot just below the projector in the back row and a family with three young children sat beside me I was a bit taken aback.  I left my coat in my seat, thinking perhaps I’d wandered into the wrong theatre.  Hey, it happens.  But the readerboard read “12 – Drag Me to Hell – Now Seating.”  So, I climbed the stairs up to the back row and took my seat.  Still, as their infant child began to cry, I had to wonder if maybe they’d made a mistake too.  After all, Night at the Museum was showing next door.  I should have left it alone, but I kept thinking, “Do they realize they’re taking their kids to see a film called Drag Me to Hell?”

That brings me to my next point.  Can anything Sam Raimi do be considered horror in the way we’ve become familiar with calling certain films horror films?  I’m thinking now of the Saw and Hostel franchises, bloody, gruesome films hellbent on making you terrified by showing you, in every graphic detail, the mutilation of the human body both pre- and post-mortem.  And the answer is, no.  Sam Raimi, who by all rights is in his own league, cannot make a “horror” film.  No, he manages to take audiences to a completely altogether different place.  A place in which you can feel free to get comfortable, laugh, cringe a little, be mortified by the pervasiveness of oozing bodily fluids, and yes, sometimes be scared.

Drag Me to Hell, set in present day California, manages to make the old world myth of Gypsy curses relevant when a loan officer at a local bank, Christine Brown (played by Alison Lohman) manages to piss off an elderly woman by refusing her a third extension on her mortgage payment.  Dragged from the bank by security guards, the woman is shamed after begging on her knees for an extension.  Gunning for an open assistant manager position, Chris feels the pressure to “make the hard decisions.”  Which is unfortunate.  Later that evening, the Gypsy woman is waiting for Chris in the backseat of her Ford Focus and a girl fight ensues.  This scene, which is so indicative of Raimi’s work, really solidifies the thrust of the film – it’s fast paced, comically violent, unafraid to get dirty and play with fluids, and be a little scary.  As the scene comes to an end, the elderly woman rips a button from Christine’s coat and casts a curse on her.  Something, I’m sure, a lot of people across America have been doing to their loan officers over the last few months.

Chris spends the remainder of the film vainly attempting to remove the curse.  She evens convinces her adorable college professor boyfriend, Clay Dalton (played by Justin Long), to take for her to see a fortune teller.  Nothing seems to help, and as the curse unfolds, Christine is haunted by a dark spirit that has been called to take her soul to hell in the three days.  Raimi uses shadow, smoke, and sound to embody the looming spirit – to great comical effect, as it sometimes appears as a horned goat man shadow.  And if there’s one thing I’m scared of, it’s horned goat men and their extremely flexible limbs.

Which brings me back to the family of five, with the small children.  While the youngest cried off and on throughout the film, and while there are moments of intense action and the ocassional demonic image, there really isn’t too much about Drag Me to Hell which would make it grossly inappropriate for a wide range of audiences.  And let’s face it, they’re probably going to see much worse on television, if they haven’t already, and at least Drag Me to Hell will make them laugh.

The final word: Drag Me to Hell is one hell of a great summer film – while more suited to the end of the season, perhaps Labor day, when the days are still long and warm, but there is an air of something coming, something changing.  My biggest concern here is that this film will get lost in the shuffle.  And that would be a shame.  Drag Me to Hell is a rare, fun, light-hearted gem – and yes, it is filled with bodily fluid goodness.

Columbia Pictures / Imagine Entertainment – 2009

Starring: Tom Hanks, Ewan McGregor, Ayelet Zurer, Stellan Skarsgard

Director: Ron Howard

In preparing myself to see Angels & Demons, I did something I don’t normally do when heading off to see a film - my research.  By which, I mean, I actually read a few reviews of the film.  Some of the reviews, like one from The Carlile Independent in Arkansas (“there’s such a thing as a happy medium, and once again Howard hasn’t managed to find it.”) tauted Angels & Demons succeeds where The Da Vinci Code failed.  What?  Really?  Interesting.  While I am not a big religious action film buff, I did enjoy parts of The Da Vinci Code, and yes, I’ve read the book by Dan Brown.  So, with varying and contradictory information whirling in my brain, I headed into the darkened theatre with 10 minutes to go before showtime.

I waited.  And I waited.  It took a half an hour of previews to get to the actual film (whose running time is more on par with 125 minutes than the 150 minutes posted at some film sites from the beginning of the film to the beginning of the credits).  This is typical, and I never mind watching previews, but what I didn’t know and should have was that this would be indicative of my Angels & Demons experience…waiting for something to happen and then rolling my eyes when it did.

The basic premise of the movie is simple: the most recent, and beloved pope has died.  The four favored cardinals for papal succession have been kidnapped by a group claiming to belong to the ancient Illuminati.  Robert Langdon (played by a lean, mean, sans-bi-level Tom Hanks, who appears briefly in a Speedo!) is brought in by the Vatican Police because when things go awry in the real world, we call in symbologists to help us see the signs around us.  To make matters worse, or more interesting, director Ron Howard and screenwriter Akiva Goldsmith decide to bring in the Hadron Collider at CERN and their quest to discover antimatter.  Let’s put this to rest right now – that’s a stretch.  Sadly, many non-scientifically-knowledgeable folks around the globe thought  the world was going to end in the Fall of 2008 when the Collider was being brought online.  We all know what happened then - (thankfully) nothing.  Because, in fact, the Collider had to be shut down for adjustments.  Anyway, stretch or not, films are supposed to reach for those things which are not quite possible and allow us to step into the amazing and wonderful safe zone of the “What ifs…”

Unfortunately, the idea that a small canister containing a rather fictional (at this particular juncture in time) clump of antimatter would be used by a modern day terrorist group that has infiltrated the highest levels of the Catholic Church in the Vatican is slim at best.  Add to this the weakness of clues (where The Da Vinci Code was sharp, intelligent, creative), heavy handed violent content, and a lack of unpredictable plot twists and Angels & Demons receives a resounding not-a-win/not-a-fail…

Don’t get me wrong – I love the idea that there are hidden symbols around us.  Symbols that contain meanings we have become blind to, forgotten.  I love the idea that following a path of these hidden symbols will, in some way, unlock hidden truths like a magical key twisting in an ornate, antique chest.   And, I also realize as one of human civilizations oldest organizations, the Catholic Church is ripe with mystery…but stop trying to make me feel in any way empathetic toward them.  They are not immune to the infiltration of crazies who want to twist reality to their own ends.

And I’m sure I’m not alone in feeling as though Angels & Demons might have fared better if it had explored in more detail the existence of the Illuminati, instead of using it as some kind of invisible threat, hellbent on exacting revenge for events in the distant past.  From what I can tell from briefly reading various online papers, the only “real” Illuminati began sometime during the late 1770’s in Bavaria as a type of shadow government, intent on the eventuality of total world domination.  That’s right – they’ve even been linked (however unsubstantiated) to the Masons.  Far more interesting than the eternal struggle for power within the Vatican itself.

The final word:  if you liked the Da Vinci Code, you’re probably going to enjoy Angels & Demons.  Tom Hanks is a national treasure now that he’s cut off that bi-level, and I couldn’t be happier that he’s actually still making films.  But, if you’re anything like my mother (who can untangle the most Hitchcockian of plot twists), you will find yourself unable to happily play along as Angels & Demons predictably fumbles from one bloody murder scene to the next.  Angels & Demons is probably the best wait-until-you-can-Netflix-it candidate I’ve yet seen this year.

Taken, 2008 (c) Twentieth Century Fox

Twentieth Century Fox – 2008

Starting: Liam Neeson, Famke Janssen, Maggie Grace

Director: Pierre Morel

Prepare yourself for a mature, International ass-whooping in this action film starring Liam Neeson.  Neeson, who plays ex-Secret Service Agent turned retiree Brian Mills, is not unlike any other middle-aged man living in Los Angeles – tired, divorced, and struggling to gain the respect of his teenage daughter, Kim (played by Maggie Grace), whom he practically ignored during his career years as a Government-sanctioned “preventer.”  This is never explained in the film, but I’m guessing Brian was responsible for the “prevention” of bad things…very bad things.

The film begins with Brian buying a cheap GPX karoake machine for his daughter at what looks like a pawn shop before showing up moments later at his daughter’s birthday party – a party that’s being held at her stepfather’s super richie mansion.  His ex-wife, Lenny, or “Lenore” as she prefers now (played by the ever-gorgeous Famke Janssen), is one cold queen and you won’t find it hard to disslike her general attitude as she scoffs at Brian’s present.

Later, some of Brian’s former colleagues drop by and the boys bond over barbeque and beers while reminiscing about the good old days when they were waiting for air strikes…ah, I remember those days.  Fondly.  They convince him to help them provide security at a concert being held the following night for pop diva, Sheenah.  And why not?  The money’s good, and he can always TiVo “Walker, Texas Ranger.”  He agrees.

The night of the concert, we expect something to happen, otherwise, why would we be dragged to a teenie bopper concert with some vapid pop diva?  So, it’s no surprise when, after discovering an unauthorized open stage door, Brian is forced to evacuate Sheenah, saving her from some crazed fans who rush her.  Unbelievably thankful for his help, believing he has saved her life, Sheenah gives Brian the number of her vocal coach and agent to give to his ungrateful, wannabe singer daughter.  Which, is perfect since his daughter Kim has asked to meet him for lunch the following day.

Wanting nothing more than the respect and attention of his daughter, Brian meets Kim (and her tag along mother) for lunch when she corners him with another request – his signature on a consent form allowing her to travel with her 18-year old friend to Paris.  Now we realize who is going to be “Taken” and who is going to have to get her back…oh, kids these days.  Drinking, sexting, traveling internationally, and being sold into white slavery by Armenian gangsters…

Of course, she asauges her father’s fears by saying she will have chaperones, she will be spending 90% of her time in museums (really?  does he really buy that?  I went to Europe when I was 17, and I most certainly visited a few museums — a few — but most of my time was spent in clubs and cafes, you know…being a young adult, enjoying my freedom).  And Brian eventually agrees, presenting her with an international cell phone with his phone number preprogrammed and a signed consent form.  He lays down the ground rules, but he should know better – she’s not one of his Secret Service buddies.  She’s a red-blooded teenage girl, heading abroad for the first time, with a plan to follow U2 across Europe.

Yes, Kim is kidnapped.  The scene in which she is abducted will make the hair stand up on your arms – Neeson proves he is still an amazing actor here when he says to his daughter as she hides under a bed in a spare room after three male intruders have taken her friend, “They are going to take you…remember…concentrate.”

The remainder of the film is a testosterone filled blood fest, with Neeson cracking skulls all over Paris.  He learns, quickly, that his daughter has been abducted with the intent to be sold as a sex slave.  What father would be able to constrain himself?  And given his unique skill set, it’s no surprise when the bodies start piling up in his wake.

The final word:  at just under 90 minutes, Taken is a dark ride into a self-indulgent story of revenge, justice, and the bleak realities of the world in which we live.  I was annoyed at moments, to be honest, with the whole “if she’d just listened to her father, she wouldn’t have been sold for $500,000 to some Sheik in an underground Parisianne slave market” thing.  The moral of the story is heavy handed, but the action sells it.  Inappropriate for children, and possibly your significant other, I chose to watch the film in a hotel while staying away from home on business.  It was a great way to pass the time, and it reminded me to double-lock my hotel room door.

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Buy Taken at Amazon: