R | 1h 52m | Action, Crime, Thriller | 2024
There’s something satisfying about seeing older actors, often underestimated by their antagonists, triumphing through experience and grit. They prove that wisdom and resilience can outmatch youthful arrogance and impulsiveness.
I even enjoyed watching Charles Bronson in the “Death Wish” series, with his character Paul Kersey dishing out justice (and plenty of campy, laugh-inducing lines) from the 1970s through the 1990s.
Neeson plays a nameless grizzled enforcer whose life of violence and unquestioning loyalty to crime boss Charlie Conner (Ron Perlman) has left him isolated and haunted by regret. After many years of ruthless service, he faces a new, devastating obstacle: a diagnosis of CTE (chronic traumatic encephalopathy) from his younger days as a boxer and school-of-hard-knocks thug. This forces him to reckon with a life scarred by loss and estrangement.
In scenes where he struggles to remember key moments, like the death of his son, Neeson offers a rare vulnerability that reveals a rather fragile man beneath a hardened exterior. These flashes of weakness and sorrow elevate his character a bit beyond the typical tough guy archetype.
Another bright spot centers on Neeson’s relationship with a nameless woman played by Yolonda Ross, who carries her own troubled past. Their connection, initially grounded in shared hardship, evolves into a delicate but genuine intimacy. These scenes are among the film’s most effective; as the two characters bond over their respective wounds, the bonding between their individual struggles is palpable.
Yet, just as her character becomes integral to his emotional journey, she largely fades into the background of the narrative, leaving her arc unresolved and diminishing the story’s emotional impact.
The film’s structure and pacing also waver, largely due to its reliance on fragmented storytelling. In dream sequences, Neeson’s character is seen drifting on a boat with his father or lost in watery landscapes; these are intended to symbolize his mental decline and struggle with memory loss.
These sequences feel more like forced flourishes than insightful psychological explorations. Rather than immersing us in his inner turmoil, they risk alienating viewers instead, and interrupt the more grounded, character-driven drama beats with abstractions that don’t fully land.
In the final act, things shift abruptly back into familiar Neeson territory, with a series of violent confrontations leading to a climactic showdown. For viewers invested in the film’s initial introspective tone, this return to formula may feel disappointing, clashing with the contemplative themes initially established.
It’s as though the story, despite its focus on the mental decline of Neeson’s character, can’t resist rehashing the revenge-driven tropes of the actor’s past roles. It feels like it’s backpedaling into more comfortable territory.
The supporting characters fare no better, considering Ross’s exit and Frankie Shaw’s under-explored role as Neeson’s estranged daughter, Daisy (at least she has a name, though). While her character is pivotal to his search for closure, she serves more as a symbol of his guilt than as a fully realized presence.
Similarly, Perlman’s crime boss character, whom he could have played with a menacing gravitas, is reduced to a few brief scenes, giving the character minimal impact and a superficial connection to Neeson’s journey.
Ultimately, “Absolution” initially presents itself as a psychological thriller, but struggles to balance its exploration of mental decline and regret with its action-driven elements. The narrative’s tonal shift from introspection to violence feels jarring, leaving the story stretched between two competing directions that never fully converge.
