The Marksman: Liam Neeson’s Latest Average-Guy-Cum-Hero Actioner True to Form… Sigh

By Thom Ernst

Rating: C+

In the new film The Marksman, director Robert Lorenz introduces Liam Neeson as Jim Hanson, a man shot from a low angle against an Arizona desert sky, a towering man as big as the land he lives on.

His face is half-hidden behind the scope of a rifle. At first glance, Neeson strikes the likeness of a younger Bruce Dern. The similarities fade, but a residue is left, suggesting that the camera loses its ability to mask Neeson's age.

Of course, even movie stars get older, and age is essential only in how it might relate to the character, a consideration for which the industry still insurmountably favours men over women. And the movie does offer a few passing references to Hanson's age, suggesting that the filmmakers hope to get a jump on any accusation that might criticize them for ignoring the obvious.

Hanson is indeed a man faced with the indignities of watching his self-worth fade with his youth. Sitting at a bar throwing down shots of whiskey, Hanson groans about the contribution and sacrifices he has given to his country, only to be left with "without a pot to piss in."

Neeson doesn't wear self-pity well, and The Marksman is not a good enough film to play on the edge of pathos without conveniently dropping all pretenses for the sake of a decent, bone-busting fight scene, or—in this case—a fight scene.

Hanson is a widower and proud former American soldier living alone on the failing ranch he has worked his whole life. His now-deceased wife's medical bills forced Hanson to forego mortgage payments, and now the bank is about to foreclose on his land.

"I'm no deadbeat," says Hanson.

Of course, he's no deadbeat; he has the American flag (properly folded) draped over his shoulder. Director Lorenz doesn't miss any opportunity to hammer home the extent of Neeson's unflagging patriotism.

Neeson is the go-to guy for roles depicting the virtuous family man pushed against the wall. That Hanson lives alone might seem like a departure from Neeson's traditional bullets-for-justice saga. But hold on. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Hanson is just Neeson's recurring character getting older.

He is still a man staunchly committed to his wife, though deceased. And he's deeply admired by his stepdaughter Sarah (Katheryn Winnick), who heads the local border patrol.

PROUDLY SUPPORTS ORIGINAL-CIN

Hanson's family-man instincts kick in when he becomes the reluctant saviour to a young boy, Miguel (Jacob Perez), targeted by the Mexican cartel to avenge his uncle's indiscretion. The two unlikely partners embark on a journey from Arizona to Chicago.

Breaking the monotony of their heartwarming moments of bonding and backstory are scenes of the cartel assassins closing in. Much of the violence that falls to those who get in the way occurs off-screen, the horror of which is insufficiently reflected in the faces of those nearby.

There is a passing nod in the film to Clint Eastwood, who has never been shy about his political stance. Lorenz owes his career to Eastwood, having worked as a producer on countless Eastwood films. Lorenz's appreciation towards his mentor forces The Marksman to straddle an uncertain political view, particularly in this post-Trump era.

The film positions issues of health care, immigration, border patrol, the fate of unaccompanied children crossing the border, and gun control as a summation of a flawed but ultimately humane system. The real evil is not in the caging of children (not mentioned in the film) or the ability to skirt around the regulation of a weapons background, but the unethical practice of guides who take people's life savings, then leave them stranded at the border.

And there is the single-vision villainy of the Mexican drug cartel whose menacing expressions vary between sneer and scowl.

Setting up the Mexican drug cartel as the heavies opens the door for guilt-free Mexican slurs and stereotypes. Mauricio (Juan Pablo Raba) is the heaviest of the heavies, leaving a trail of collateral damage as he pursues Hanson and Miguel on their cross-country run to safety.

Mauricio is driven by the impulse to be dangerous, shredding the screen with menace when delivering such classic lines as, "You killed my brother!" and "You can't run forever!"

The Marksman is a minor entry in the Liam Neeson Action Oeuvre, but it's unlikely to boost his genre status. Neeson puts in a valiant effort to give Hanson the edge of a man grown weary, not just by time but by the assumptions of his age and the disappointing belief that his country has let him down.

But the weariness Neeson exudes seems less related to the character and more to the actor who has done this kind of thing once too often.

The Marksman. Directed by Robert Lorenz. Starring Liam Neeson, Jacob Perez, Juan Pablo Raba, and Katheryn Winnick. Opens in select theatres April 2.