#WHOOF this took me a fuckin while

[impdog]

👿🌸

Redraw of this piece from 2020!

[365days365movies]

January 20, 2021: Taken (2008)

Well, I know one thing about this movie. He’s gonna find ‘em. And he’s gonna kill ‘em. And also, Luc Besson didn’t direct this movie! Yeah, my bad, he wrote this movie. But, then, he also wrote Leon, so I wasn’t entirely wrong. Anyway, 2008!

I remember this year well. Obama was elected the first Black president of the United States of America; the Olympics took place in Beijing, months after a massive earthquake in Sichuan; the Large Hadron Collider was totally gonna make a black hole; and, of course, the most important news event of that year: Iron Man and The Dark Knight came out.

And of course, the film Taken came out, creating what is arguably the most repeated film meme ever. Or, at the very least, it’s WAY up there. It’s a 12-year old meme at this point, but lemme tell ya: this thing was HUGE in 2008. Not the movie itself, just the meme. And I could lie and tell you that I’m watching this movie because it’s another French action thriller, and it’s fitting, but…

...it’s the meme. It’s 100% the meme, I’m not gonna lie to you guys. So, uh...yeah, Taken, let’s do this. SPOILERS AHEAD!

Recap

Bryan Mills (Liam Neeson) is dreaming of his daughter and wife. In the modern day, he brings a birthday gift to his daughter, Kim (Maggie Grace), and his bitter ex-wife Lenore (Famke Janssen), who is married to a very wealthy man, Stuart (Xander Berkeley). Bryan, meanwhile, is a recent and comparatively poor retiree, whose friends come over for a night of drinks.

Retiree from what, you ask? Well, it’s likely the CIA, given that his friends refer to military missions and Langley. They invite him to join security detail for a pop star, Sheerah (Holly Valance), In the process, he saves her from crazed fans, including a knife-wielding assailant. Not sure why that guy wants to LITERALLY STAB HER, but somebody needs to look into that guy!

Out of gratitude, Sheerah gives Bryan some references to give to his daughter, who wants to be a singer, apparently. However, when he sees her and Lenore the next day, all she wants from him is permission to go on a trip to Paris with her friends. When he shows his doubts for her safety, she’s upset, and his wife berates him for...government and military service? I mean, that stuff breaks up marriages, of course, but GODDAMN, Lenore’s bitter about it! Whoof.

Bryan’s definitely being made to be sympathetic, while Lenore’s the opposite of that. And Bryan’s understandably worried about his daughter’s safety, as she’ll be abroad. And we get the idea that Bryan’s a bit of a helicopter parent, but...c’mon! He’s underage daughter is asking to go to Paris with her friends! It’s cause for a parent to be worried, and yet Lenore is like, “She needs to be freeeeeeeeeee!” And that’s made even WORSE by the fact that both of them lie to Bryan, a father who clearly loves his daughter, because she’s actually following U2 on a music tour around Europe!

Which...really? U2? Who the hell can stand that much Bono, for their ENTIRE EUROPEAN TOUR? Anyway, what I’m saying is, Lenore sucks, and I’m not Kim’s biggest fan either. But I get the feeling that, given the one thing I know about this movie...Bryan’s gonna be proven right. So Kim and her friend, Amanda (Katie Cassidy) go to Europe, alone, despite Bryan’s understandable misgivings. 

They IMMEDIATELY get hit on by Peter, a French boy who gives them a ride. He invites them to a party, Amanda accepts for them, and this is OBVIOUSLY A BAD IDEA. That’s even further confirmed by Peter making a mysterious call, telling the other person about the girls’ location. Kim doesn’t call Bryan, as promised, and Amanda is clearly a TERRIBLE influence. Looks like Bryan was completely right to be concerned, if his daughter’s gonna be so irresponsible. Oh, also because they’re about to get kidnapped.

Luckily, Kim had called Bryan just before, after realizing that he had called her, and he guides her through the upcoming kidnapping. With his help, although she gets kidnapped, Bryan is able to figure out that the kidnappers are Albanian, and that one of them is a six-foot tall bearded man with a moon and star tattoo on his right hand DAMN THAT’S OBSERVANT. But still...she’s been Taken.

Someone picks up the phone...and he says the speech.

Had to do it, folks. It’s the most iconic scene in the film. Time for action! Bryan calls a friend with Langley connections, then goes straight to Lenore and Stuart’s place, who find out that BRYAN WAS FUCKING RIGHT GODDAMMIT HOW DO YOU FEEL NOW 

 Having COMPLETELY FUCKED UP, Lenore asks Bryan to get her back safely. They actually figure out that the men who kidnapped her are professional sex-traffickers, who specialize in kidnapping travelling women and putting them in prostitution. But they tend to disappear...within 96 Hours. That’s how long Bryan has to find her, as well as being an alternate title for this film!

The time limit, by the way, is a common construct for the action-thriller. You know, “she has 12 hours to live,” that kind of deal. Thrillers are going to be peppered throughout this year, and there are a few coming up as well, so might as well start with this one, right?

Bryan flies to Paris, then makes his way to the apartment, tracing Kim’s steps up to her kidnapping. He also finds her destroyed phone, alongside an SD card with photos. From this, he gets a blurry look at Peter. I get the feeling that his face isn’t about to look much better. Speaking of, Peter’s playing his old tricks at the airport, and is caught by Bryan. Painfully caught. After Bryan fights off another guy, and chases Peter up a road, Peter also gets caught by karma.

80 hours left. Having exhausted options, Bryan meets an old contact, Jean-Claude (Olivier Rabourdin), who tells him where the Albanians hang out. He hires an Albanian translator, then heads for a prostitute-heavy area. He harrangues a prostitute until her manager comes out, whom he puts a small microphone on. With the translator’s help, he discovers that they’re having “merchandise problems” at a construction site. 

Following a hunch, he makes his way there, and sees several drug-addicted young women in a makeshift brothel. Also there is his daughter’s jacket. The prostitute that has it, however, is not exactly cognitively sound at the moment. So...she’s Taken. By Bryan, who fights his way out of the brothel and construction site, with gunshots, explosions, and car chases along the way.

Bryan brings the girl back to a hotel, where he somehow gets ahold of an IV and medicine, and detoxes her in the room. Which, given the time frame and other factors...seems like a very large risk to take for testimony that, let’s be honest, right not exist. Still, as this is happening, he gets a call from Jean-Claude, asking to meet.

56 hours left. After 7 people dead, a destroyed trailer, and 3 people injured (and probably stolen medicine from a hospital, let’s be honest), Bryan isn’t exactly the best friend of the French government. He escapes police custody and heads back to the hotel, where the girl is cogent enough to remember where she got the jacket: from Kim herself, at the house with the red door on the road of paradise. No, really.

Bryan gets to the house, and poses as Jean-Claude...badly. He apparently passes his bluff check, and takes advantage of a corrupt police system, and makes them give him protection money. Over the course of the conversation, he figures out that one of them is Marco. Which means that he found him. And he said that when he found him…

After that spree is done, he searches the facility and looks for Kim. He doesn’t find her...but he does find Amanda. And sadly, he’s too late for her. Turns out, though, that he didn’t kill Marko (Arben Bajraktaraj), the leader of the group. And of course not! He has some questions.

Bryan tortures Marko using electricity, and he reveals that Kim’s been sold quickly, as she is a virgin. She’s been sold to Patrice Saint-Clair (Gerard Watkins), although Marko doesn’t know where he is. And so, Bryan fulfills his promise, and electrocutes him. He then makes his way to meet Jean-Claude at his home. And, uh...that’s when he crosses a line.

...Um. Bryan shot his wife. And yeah, Jean-Claude’s clearly not on the up-and-up, but he’s not directly complicit in the kidnapping of his daughter. And yeah, he’s in Bryan’s way, but JESUS CHRIST DUDE. He officially loses the moral high-ground here for me, even if his cause is just. Jean-Claude concedes, and Bryan gets the information that he’s looking for and leaves, knocking Jean-Claude out in the process.

Bryan goes to the Saint-Clair residence, where an auction is taking place for various young women. The last of these is, of course, Kim. Having barged into a booth of one of the buyers, he forces him to buy Kim (ew). Unfortunately, he’s caught and chained to a pipe, where Saint-Clair’s henchmen are about to kill him. But, of course...

Bryan escapes and kills Saint-Clair in the process, but not before finding out that Kim’s been Taken to a boat. He obtains a car, and after a length (and seizure-inducing) car chase, gets onto the boat, which is owned by the Sheik, a man of unknown Arabic origin. And yeah, in case you were wondering, this feels very...VERY...wrong. It’s brief, yeah, but...you gave a rich Arabic guy multiple wives obtained through illegal means and made them the main villain? FUCKIN’ OOF BRUV

Anyway, as expected, Bryan kicks the asses of everybody on the boat, and finally rescues Kim, killing the Sheik in the process. The two have a tearful embrace, and Bryan NEVER LETS HER OUT OF HIS SIGHT AGAIN PROBABLY. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT BONO. THIS IS ALL YOUR GODDAMN FAULT.

Well, Bryan wins the I WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG GODDAMIT award, Kim gets to go home and meet that singer from before, Lenore gives Bryan some consideration as a human being for once, Stuart stepfathers, and that’s Taken! Also, WHERE IN THE HELL ARE AMANDA’S PARENTS, A GIRL IS DEAD

Epilogue soon!

[doom-dreaming]

“Fallen Gods”

FUCKIN NOVELIST ANON AT IT AGAIN KILLING ME SOFTLY ENJOY THIS WHILE I SPEND THE NIGHT WRITING revenge for this. when will they stop? will they ever stop? do i want them to stop? ...no

(again, i formatted paragraphs and stuff) IT’S SO LONG OH MY GOD HOW ARE YOU WRITING ALL OF THIS SO FAST IT’S INSANE AND I LOVE YOU PLEASE LET ME LOVE YOU

It’s been three days since you’ve seen the twins. Not that it worries you; they told you they were leading a raid personally, for the faithful. They gifted you an ECHO to watch while they were gone. You were allowed to watch the holy broadcast yesterday and see the full fury of the God Queen raining fire and pain on her enemies. You were able to watch Troy in his most vicious fury tearing the non-believers limb from limb with teeth and metal and the searing burn of his stolen siren powers. No one needed to know you touched yourself as you watched, all too aware of how those powerful hands and teeth felt in fits of passion.

But that was yesterday. Today you knelt, waiting eagerly in the bed for their return. You could hear the cheers of their victorious return below, and knew that after some celebration they would return. Maybe they would still be riding high on the bloodlust when they entered and you could look forward to a long night of pleasant pain; sacrificing your flesh to Troy’s hunger and being rewarded and healed by Tyreen’s nimble fingers and tongue. Maybe they would be tired from their conquest and you would be treated to a quieter time, laying your head to be petted on Troy’s thigh while he worked, or nuzzling into the back of Tyreen’s neck while you served as her blanket after working the kinks out of her shoulders.

But the cheers kept moving. They didn’t stop in the grand arena for celebration, instead you could hear them moving up the stairs of the cathedral and right up to the door. Once again the doors were thrown open, the Twin gods standing tall and victorious. The followers were dismissed, and Tyreen pulled the massive doors shut. The slam of the metal bar locking you all in rang of finality.

Troy crumpled.

You shot from your place on the bed but the chain and collar nearly knocked you out, cutting your movement as effectively as a wall before you could reach him. Tyreen was already at his side, shaking him until she received a hoarse acknowledgment. Her eyes shot to you. She reached her hand out, tattoos flaring a blinding white. You felt the heat in your collar before it clattered to the ground. She spoke two words you never expected to hear from the God Queen. “Help me.” It was commanding and determined as ever, but the desperation killed what power her voice normally carried. As always, you obeyed without hesitation.

Troy was heavier than you ever remembered. Even when the full weight of his body and teeth bore down on you, grinding you into the floor, he had never felt so heavy as he did being dragged by the two of you to the bed. You didn’t like how things made sense now; if the bed had not been set into the floor there was now way the two of you could have gotten him into it, let alone Tyreen by herself. Troy rolled over, coughing, and you knew the bloodstains on the pillow that preceded your arrival were not from earlier sacrifices.

Tyreen was already flitting around the room.  “Get his arm off.”

While you flipped open the red skull symbol and worked the complex latches that disengaged the limb from within, Tyreen was already on the ECHO demanding that baths be brought up for the gods, “One hot and one cold, as the ritual demands.” It was too practiced, too common. You could feel unnatural heat rising from Troy’s bare skin. Sweat beads left streaks in the dust on his face.

“Strip him.”

The command was easier without the weight of his arm. He rolled with you, doing his best to help, but the uncontrolled, weak movements of his limbs made it harder rather than easier. You tried not to notice how his siren tattoos had faded, looking more like burns and scabs than the gleaming markings they had been when he left.

Tyreen had opened the door just enough to allow for the two slabbed together metal tubs. Skin and Graft, two priests who had sacrificed their eyes in devotion, rolled in the welded sheetmetal tubs and scurried out as they were dismissed. Again the door slammed and was barred. The room went silent save the crackling of the small fire that heated one of the tubs. Tyreen was by your side again, bearing half of the disturbingly reduced weight as you both hoisted him into the cold tub. The dust and grime that immediately spread from him over the surface of the water left his skin lighter; a sick sandy yellow so wrong compared with his usual rich, earthy ochre. Tyreen allowed him to submerge completely for a moment, then hoisted him back into a sitting position. He sighed, and you watched what little energy he had melt as he let the water and the angled tub carry his weight.

Tyreen was staring at you. Your concern made you bold; you met her gaze and knew she was no longer really looking at you. She was weighing choices, making decisions that would guide your fate. She took a deep breath and her eyes closed, her shoulders drooped as if shedding the weight of leadership. “Watch him, make sure he doesn’t drown.” She tried to sound dismissive of the possibility, but you heard the fear. She drew a dagger from her belt, handing it to you. “Feed him. Time to see if we were right about you.” You couldn’t tell if she she meant to address you or not, but as soon as you accepted the blade she fled the room. 

Alone with him. Alone with the crackle of the fire in an unused tub and the shallow, pained breathing of a fallen god. Climbing into the tub was the only thing you could think of. You expected the cold of the water to sting, but it was already lukewarm. There was enough room for you get in beside him on the armless side. He leaned into your arms as you settled, resting his head against your shoulder. You knew the druglike tingle of his teeth piercing your flesh, but the bite of the blade was achingly cold by comparison; still, you did it for him, and offered the wound to him. His lips were soft against your skin, tender as he suckled at your offering. It felt like hours before he managed to raise his arm, gripping your wrist to hold you in place as he drank more forcefully. Even that little bit of strength was comforting. 

Tyreen’s hurried stride brought her back into the room, to the tub-side. In her hands: two bars of glowing, compressed Eridium. You recognized them from your time in the mines, a fading memory of another lifetime. Her Siren tattoos were pulsating, reacting to the energy from the mineral until she slipped the two bars into the water with you. Deja vu. A familiar warmth just under your skin. The feeling that emanated from the mine walls practically vibrating around and through you.

Troy’s teeth sinking into your arm with sudden vigor brought you back into the present. Tyreen let out a strangled laugh that might have been a sob. She hid her face before you could catch her, and she made an overcompensating show of being regal as she stripped and retired to her own warm tub. But you knew your masters well, and you caught the glint of tears on her cheeks before she sank into the water to hide them.

A much softer goddess stood in the moonlight, lounging against the balcony railing as she surveyed her kingdom. Troy was tucked into the bed, the warm dusk returned to his skin and his breathing strong and even as he slept. It was almost cute the way his split jaw lay crooked, not quite fitted back together correctly while he drooled on the pillow. Only the smeared blood on his face and a small strip of your own flesh between his teeth stole some of that innocence.

But your eyes stayed on Tyreen. Again concern had made you bold, and they had yet to replace your collar; you walked to her side, joining her against the railing and placing a comforting hand at the small of her back. She allowed it.

“It’s…it’s a bad day.” She sounded so tired… but the words continued. “We’ve been lucky, for a while. There hasn’t been one since you got here. But he burned himself out. At the battle.” Her voice cracked. She took a gulp of air before continuing. “He’s always been sick, like something is eating him from the inside. We’ve been able to fend it off with the life we harvest from the sacrifices, but there are still bad days. Getting a Siren always made it better, lasted longer, but only for a while. And there are only so many Sirens- we even tried Eriduim, but he can’t use it, can’t process it even if he eats it.”

She cut off what had become a nervous, hurried flood of words. Her eyes stayed focused outward, seeming to focus on the burning trashcans that served as lanterns below. Silence reigned for long minutes, and Tyreen picked absently at rust spot on the rail. After too long, she spoke again. “We were looking for someone like you. People who didn’t get sick in the mines. People who just,” she made a hand gesture of pulling something together, “whoof, suck it up like a sponge. We thought maybe, just maybe, that would get stored.” She chuckled, but it corroded into a hiccuping sob. “Looks like we were right.” Her teeth dug into her lip to bite it back, but another sob escaped anyway. And another.

You stayed silent as your goddess fell apart… but not motionless. She didn’t fight as you pulled her into your arms. She let you pet her still drying hair as she had done for you so many times while drifting to sleep. You held her as she wept until her tears ran dry and her strength failed her. Even when you retired to the bed she clung to you, long beyond sleep, with one hand on her brother’s arm.