Absolution opens with all the originality of a knock-off dollar store action figure. In this case, the action hero is Liam Neeson playing "Thug" (yes, that's the actual name), a brooding, no-nonsense tough guy whose personality is as flat as his character's one-word name. A story that could be summed up in a single, uninspired sentence rolls out before us: Boooooooring. Did the writer even try? I picture them pressing shuffle on a "Neeson as Stoic Killer" playlist and calling it a day.
It's honestly impressive how Absolution manages to take the concept of a hardened antihero on a mission and squeeze every last ounce of interest out of it. Liam Neeson, no stranger to playing grizzled men with grudges, grimaces his way through the film with all the enthusiasm of someone waiting for a root canal. It's as though the director, Hans Petter Moland, threw his hands up and said, "Just look intense, Liam, and we'll handle the rest in post." The result? An endless parade of predictable scenes, stale action sequences, and empty dialogue that drags on for what feels like hours.
At one point, I wondered if Moland wasn't secretly challenging the audience to stay awake. Every scene is something we've seen a thousand times before - and done infinitely better. The choreography is tired, the stakes are absent, and the plot feel more like obligatory pitstops than actual story developments.
But maybe that's the real "absolution" here: accepting that Hollywood seems determined to strip every ounce of nuance from its thrillers. If you enjoy boring melodramas that falsely market themselves as action movies that feel like they were written by a sleep-deprived algorithm and directed by someone who may have nodded off during production, then Absolution is calling your name. As for everyone else? We've seen this movie. We've seen it so many times we could probably recite it backwards. And trust me, you won't miss anything if you skip it.
