Over nearly five decades in Hollywood, Liam Neeson has played some of the screen’s most memorable characters—from a wise Jedi Master to a compassionate hero in dark times, a grieving widower, and, most famously, a relentless father in Taken that propelled him to action stardom.
Now, at 72, Neeson is contemplating retirement from action films, admitting he’s unsure if he can keep up with the intense physical demands. “It has to end at some point,” he shared, hinting that his days of throwing punches may be winding down.
Liam Neeson’s illustrious career has spanned a variety of genres, highlighting his versatility. The Irish actor first rose to fame in the early 1990s with his acclaimed portrayal of Oskar Schindler in Schindler’s List, earning him widespread recognition and award nominations.
Through the following years, Neeson built a diverse portfolio, from romantic dramas to his turn as a Jedi Master in Star Wars. But in 2008, he reinvented himself as an action hero with Taken, where his character’s “very special set of skills” became instantly iconic. This shift surprised fans of Love Actually, who saw him transition into high-stakes thrillers in his mid-50s, proving his appeal across film genres.
Taken became a blockbuster, and Neeson’s portrayal of Bryan Mills, a retired CIA agent determined to save his kidnapped daughter, deeply resonated with audiences. “It just seemed to have touched something in the psychic nerve of moviegoing audiences,” he told People in an October 2024 interview.
The character of Mills became an iconic action role, with Neeson’s famous phone threat solidifying him as an unlikely but compelling action hero. The success of Taken led to two sequels and a host of other action roles, making Neeson a trusted name in the genre.
Hans Petter Moland, who directed Neeson in Cold Pursuit (2019) and the upcoming Thug, noted Neeson’s unique intensity. “When he’s deeply in character, you can see the hurt and pain. He really becomes that person,” Moland said.
Despite his successful action career, Neeson has shared that he’s considering stepping back due to his age. Even at 72, he continues to do many of his own stunts, working closely with his longtime stunt double, Mark Vanselow, who has coordinated his stunts since Taken. Neeson has maintained, “You can’t fool audiences. I don’t want Mark to be doing my fight scenes.”
The Oscar-nominated actor reflected, “Maybe by the end of next year. I think that’s it.” But Neeson isn’t saying goodbye to acting altogether—he’s simply changing lanes.
In a surprising turn, he’s ready to take on comedy. Neeson recently wrapped filming on The Naked Gun, a remake of the 1988 comedic crime classic. In the 2025 film, Neeson will play the beloved detective Frank Drebin, originally portrayed by Leslie Nielsen, with Baywatch star Pamela Anderson as his co-star.
“I’m totally smitten with her. I can’t say enough good things. She’s incredibly funny,” Neeson said, while admitting he’s nervous about comedy, saying, “I really don’t know if I can pull it off.” However, Anderson assured fans that he’s simply being modest. “It was hard to keep a straight face during our scenes together,” she told People.
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MY HUSBAND SPENT OUR FAMILY’S SAVINGS FOR A CAR ON A PARIS TRIP FOR HIS MOM — SO I TAUGHT HIM A LESSON ABOUT FINANCES.
The weight of the betrayal settled in my stomach like a cold stone. Three years. Three years of sacrifice, of pinching pennies and foregoing simple pleasures, all for a car that would keep our family safe. And he’d squandered it. On a whim. On a trip to Paris for his mother.
David, bless his oblivious heart, seemed genuinely surprised by my reaction. He’d always been a mama’s boy, and I’d tolerated it, even indulged it, to a point. But this? This was beyond the pale.
“It’s my money too!” he’d protested, his voice rising in that familiar defensive tone. “She deserves it! You can’t put a price on gratitude.”
I’d simply stared at him, my mind reeling. Gratitude? What about gratitude for the sacrifices I’d made, for the countless hours I’d spent juggling work, kids, and household chores? What about gratitude for the safety of our children?
I knew arguing would be futile. He was locked in his own world of justifications, and I wasn’t about to waste my breath. Instead, I retreated, a quiet fury simmering beneath my composed exterior.
Over the next few days, I played the part of the understanding wife. I smiled, nodded, and even helped him pack his mother’s suitcase. I listened patiently as he recounted his mother’s excited phone calls, her plans for sightseeing and shopping.
But beneath the surface, I was plotting. I was determined to teach him a lesson about finances, about responsibility, about the true meaning of family.
First, I contacted his mother. I explained the situation, the crumbling van, the precarious state of our family finances. She was mortified. She’d always been a sensible woman, and she was appalled by her son’s impulsive decision. She offered to pay for the trip herself, but I declined. Instead, I suggested a compromise. She could still go to Paris, but for a shorter period, a weekend getaway rather than a full week. The difference in cost would be returned to our car fund.
Next, I tackled the issue of David’s “my money too” argument. I opened a joint account, separate from our everyday expenses, and deposited the remaining car fund, along with the money his mother had returned. I then created a detailed budget, outlining our household expenses, including the cost of a new (used) car. I presented it to David, highlighting the glaring discrepancy between our needs and his impulsive spending.
I also introduced him to the concept of “family meetings.” Every Sunday, we would sit down together, discuss our finances, and make joint decisions about spending. The kids were included, too, learning about the value of money and the importance of saving.
Finally, I decided to address the issue of his mother’s constant demands. I didn’t want to create a rift between them, but I needed to establish boundaries. I suggested that we set aside a small portion of our budget for gifts and experiences for both our families, to be agreed upon by both of us.
The changes weren’t immediate. David grumbled about the budget, about the “unnecessary” family meetings. But slowly, he began to understand. He started to appreciate the sacrifices I’d made, the careful planning that kept our family afloat. He even started to enjoy the family meetings, seeing them as an opportunity to connect with the kids and make joint decisions.
The day we drove our newly purchased (used) car home, David looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and gratitude. “Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere. “For teaching me.”
I smiled. “We’re a team, David,” I said. “And teams work together.”
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