There was never a significant moment for me at which I realized my love for Liam Neeson - it was just sort of there.
It just made sense. I guess it starts with my sick, twisted love for Qui-Gon Jinn - in my opinion, the sexiest Jedi master. He was so wrongfully denied a seat on the Jedi Council, a travesty that made him my favorite underdog.
My emotional attachment to Qui-Gon is so strong that I can’t watch his death scene in The Phantom Menace without tears. I can’t even handle the far more PG variation in the LEGO: Star Wars game. I have to hand my controller to my brother and look away as my little LEGO character plummets into oblivion.
It doesn't matter that he plays pretty much the same character every time. I like a little consistency. I trust him so much, I considered making him my emergency contact in my phone.
He’s mentored the greats: Obi Wan Kenobi. Batman. Those little kids that stumbled out of their closet and into Narnia.
Even when he’s not using his special set of skills to track down bad guys, he’s living the life of a hero. He roomed with Helen Mirren in London in the 80’s. He does yoga with Voldemort.
I should clarify here that my love for Mr. Neeson is not a romantic one. His sons are old enough to have attended high school with me. I love him like I loved the Dr. Pepper freeze that Taco Bell discontinued. I love him like I loved picking out Goosebumps movies at Blockbuster. I love him like I loved when gas was less than $1.50 a gallon.
All of these examples make perfect sense, because according to this article (and the several others who confirmed it after I Googled in a panicked frenzy,) my beloved Liam Neeson foresees an end to his action movie career within the next two years.
One more time for the cheap seats: LIAM NEESON, MY BELOVED GERIATRIC ACTION HERO, IS CALLING IT QUITS.
Am I supposed to trade my beautiful Irishman with a gun for the likes of Vin Diesel and Dwayne The Rock Johnson? Am I supposed to watch someone else punch people and track down bad guys and just pretend it’s okay?
So what I have to say to Mr. Neeson is this: I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don’t have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you promise not to leave your action film career behind, that’ll be the end of it. But if you don’t, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will ugly cry in your trailer until you agree to make a Taken 4.