Tak3n 1s qu1t3 s1mply th3 m0st un3ccesary s3qu3l t0 3v3r 3xist. You thought the second film in this series was inferior to the original. Phwoar! Wait until you check this out! The daughter, father and mother had all been taken. Who's next? The family car? The pet goldfish? The last slice of bread in the kitchen? Nope. Bryan Mills' innocence. Not nearly as exciting as the slice of bread, right? Well, that's the general feeling this film exudes. That, and the consistent explosive wave of stupidity that looms over this family. Urgh. Mummy Mills comes over Daddy Mills' place for bagels but winds up dead (lucky Janssen...), to which the latter is framed for murder. He must find out who actually committed the crime before the police take him down. I don't know what's more sad.
The fact that this series actually has a third instalment, or the fact that they never got to eat those fresh warm bagels. Aside from the odd scene that strangely captivated me with its butchered script, particularly between Bryan and Kim, there's nothing to recommend here. Megaton is back in mega fashion to ensure that the infrequent action sequences and overall direction have more jump cuts than a skipping rope competition. Neeson climbing over that infamous fence had approximately twelve jump cuts in three seconds. That's just insane! My eyes were staring blankly at the screen for the most part.
Cars explode upon touch. No one can drive. And gosh darn it, Whitaker's character (with his elastic band fetish) devoured fresh bagels without Neeson. Rude! Fight scenes were cumbersome. The passage of time wasnseemingly lost in this story, I mean at one point we're on an idyllic beach for some obligatory waterboarding. Oh, and the mandatory phone call! This time, Bryan telling his daughter that her mum is dead. On the frickin' phone! C'mon. That is not the Bryan Mills from the first Taken who massaged his daughter's feelings. This is an enraged, insensitive and hungry Mills. Hungry for some bagels! It finalises in a shootout with a Russian in his unflattering pants, and for the life of me I have no idea why.
This cash grab of a sequel marks an almighty low point in Neeson's filmography. No fault of his own though, as he is as watchable as ever (despite the carefree performance). But damn, this film just does not need to exist. Heck, its predecessor didn't either! Predictable, pointless and painfully nauseating. Atleast it isn't damaging European tourism this time. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to have some bagels and forget about this film once again...