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The Commuter review: taken 4 (a ride)

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Getting the train can be boring. Doing it for a decade is really, really dull.

So if you’re caught up in a criminal conspiracy on your commute home (and had the chance to earn 100k), you’d be pretty interested, right? Liam Neeson wasn’t, but of course, he still had to do it otherwise we wouldn’t have a film to poke fun of.

The film starts with a cute little montage – seasons change as everything in this Irishman’s life stays the same. It’s sweet and the mixture of textures with each jump cut make you feel like this film may carry sentiment. Maybe, just maybe we might care what happens on this train.

We find out Michael MacCauley (played by Neeson) has just been fired from his job. His son is about to go to an American university – he’s got nothing to lose and a lot to gain if someone offers him a chance. This is where Vera Farmiga steps in. Ever the understated, she captures you with awkward small talk and the odd giggle here and there. But she’s just another commuter. Or is she? (She isn’t).

The Commuter carries on like this, with twists that aren’t twists, fights that would kill a martial arts expert, let alone someone over the age of 60 years (sorry Liam). Plus there are some intense train-based, edge-of-your-seat moments.

It’s not high octane at all, it’s not even middle octane. Instead it’s a side of octane with a mess of a main course. Joking aside, it’s a bit of fun, so don’t go in expecting an Oscar nod. It’s Liam Neeson doing what he does moderately. It’s not the worst film I’ve seen this year and I’d happily watch this than sit through Silence again (I don’t care how beautiful that film is). I’ll give it 2 flicks, nearly 3 due to my infatuation with Vera.

The shock? Mike from Breaking Bad getting a rough deal.

The let down? The insane level of calm from Neeson’s wife. She treats train derailment more calmly than I treat spilling coffee.

Audience rating? A good bunch. At one point a woman did sit next to me and ask if I could point out the person that doesn’t belong. Now I’m on the run from Vera Farmiga and the seedy Derby underbelly. You win some, you lose some.

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