Non-Stop (15.)
Directed by Jaume Collet-Serra.
Starring Liam Neeson, Julianne Moore, Michelle Dockery, Corey Stoll, Scoot McNairy and Lupita Nyong’o. 105 mins.
It is something that gets lost in the complaining about the banality of modern blockbusters, but Hollywood entertainments have always been silly – it’s just that some contemporary productions abuse the privilege. The title threatens another helter shelter onslaught of motion and fury but the reality is a more civilised paced star vehicle.
It is silly story but not aggressively so. A Federal Air Marshall who is a grief stricken drunk (Neeson) is on a flight from New York to London when he starts receiving threats from someone on the plane to kill a passenger every 20 minutes unless $150 million is paid to an account in Neeson’s name. It’s a Whosedoingit but Neeson’s no kind of Sherlock faced with the omnipotent machinations of this unknown Moriarty.
(In the interest of letting you down gently don’t get your hopes up for the solution to this mystery. Often you find yourself picking holes in the logic of these kinds of films on the way home afterwards – Non-stop saves you the bother by giving you the picked holes straight up.)
The film is fun because Spanish director Collet-Serra does a great job of selling the situation to you. The plane interior feels a little more spacious than is genuine (this airline seems unusually wide but no so long: a squatter kind of plane than we are used to) but it is claustrophobic enough. The opening scene - slow motion whisky pouring against a grey sky does enough to convince you of its protagonist’s pain.
There’s a good cast but it is Neeson that makes it work. Since Taken his late career surge as an action hero has been like a one-man Wild Geese revival. Sure, you can almost hear the joints creak at times but even approaching 70 he’s still a very plausible action hero, mainly because he seems credibly human. Most modern screen heroes look like they would be put back in there cage with a fresh bale of hay after each adventure, or at least left to perform endless circuits around the gym. You can imagine Neeson though coming home after a tough day’s slaughter and being able to order a decent bottle of red at a Brassiere, go shopping for blinds or talk sociably about property prices.
Directed by Jaume Collet-Serra.
Starring Liam Neeson, Julianne Moore, Michelle Dockery, Corey Stoll, Scoot McNairy and Lupita Nyong’o. 105 mins.
It is something that gets lost in the complaining about the banality of modern blockbusters, but Hollywood entertainments have always been silly – it’s just that some contemporary productions abuse the privilege. The title threatens another helter shelter onslaught of motion and fury but the reality is a more civilised paced star vehicle.
It is silly story but not aggressively so. A Federal Air Marshall who is a grief stricken drunk (Neeson) is on a flight from New York to London when he starts receiving threats from someone on the plane to kill a passenger every 20 minutes unless $150 million is paid to an account in Neeson’s name. It’s a Whosedoingit but Neeson’s no kind of Sherlock faced with the omnipotent machinations of this unknown Moriarty.
(In the interest of letting you down gently don’t get your hopes up for the solution to this mystery. Often you find yourself picking holes in the logic of these kinds of films on the way home afterwards – Non-stop saves you the bother by giving you the picked holes straight up.)
The film is fun because Spanish director Collet-Serra does a great job of selling the situation to you. The plane interior feels a little more spacious than is genuine (this airline seems unusually wide but no so long: a squatter kind of plane than we are used to) but it is claustrophobic enough. The opening scene - slow motion whisky pouring against a grey sky does enough to convince you of its protagonist’s pain.
There’s a good cast but it is Neeson that makes it work. Since Taken his late career surge as an action hero has been like a one-man Wild Geese revival. Sure, you can almost hear the joints creak at times but even approaching 70 he’s still a very plausible action hero, mainly because he seems credibly human. Most modern screen heroes look like they would be put back in there cage with a fresh bale of hay after each adventure, or at least left to perform endless circuits around the gym. You can imagine Neeson though coming home after a tough day’s slaughter and being able to order a decent bottle of red at a Brassiere, go shopping for blinds or talk sociably about property prices.
