Just as baked potato is a neutral substrate upon which one slathers more exciting fare (sour cream, cheese, and the like), I think of “movie” as a neutral substrate upon which to slather Liam Neeson. As is by now entirely evident to anyone who’s been paying attention, Liam Neeson is so awesome it hurts, and there’s nary a single film that couldn’t be improved by the addition of more Neeson. Now, I’ve believed this for some time, but it was only this morning that the full implications of this sunk in. The future of cinema is heading inescapably towards a single culminating moment, a moment in which Western culture finds its complete and utter fulfillment. I call that moment: the Liam Neeson Singularity (“Neesongularity,” for short).
The Neesongularity refers to an inevitable point in the future at which Liam Neeson acts every part in every possible movie simultaneously, after which there can be no more art. Why am I so confident that this is bound to happen? I’ll explain my logic:
(1) The demand for Liam Neeson is infinite. Most human desires can be satiated—when you’re thirsty, you can take a drink, and then you’re not thirsty anymore. But Liam Neeson does not work this way; witnessing Liam Neeson act does nothing but increase the desire to see Liam Neeson act even more. Hence we should expect the demand for Liam Neeson will only grow over time, and there’s not a goddamned thing anyone can do to stop it.
(2) Movie executives will get the message and turn up the Neeson. Movie executives aren’t stupid; they will inevitably realize that Liam Neeson is awesome, that everyone thinks Liam Neeson is awesome, and that the best way to ensure that a movie is awesome is to cram in as much Neeson as possible. Therefore, the Neeson will be turned up.
(3) While the desire to see Liam Neeson act is infinite, audiences will want to see him in novel situations. Don’t get me wrong here—I’m not saying that people will ever get tired of Liam Neeson, because they won’t. But they’re going to want to see him do different things, not watch him act out the same plot every time.
(4) There are a finite number of movie plots. Sure, trivial details can be varied infinitely, but there are only a limited number of movie plots that truly differ from one another enough to satisfy an audience’s desire for novelty.
(5) Studios will eventually run out of fresh movie plots for Liam Neeson to masterfully execute. This follows from (3) and (4).
(6) When there are no more fresh movie plots for Liam Neeson, there will still be two ways to pack more Liam Neeson into films. They are: a.) have him assume more roles in a new version of a film he’s already done, and b.) combine elements of previous plots to give audiences the novelty of seeing Liam Neeson try to do it all at once.
(7) Along the way, we’re gonna see a lot of stuff like, “Clash of the Titans 3: Release the Neeson” and “The Grey 2: Even More Wolves” and “Schindler’s List 2: Taken by Nazis,” but the logical culmination of this process is a single film that combines the plots of every film Liam Neeson has been in or could ever be in, with Liam Neeson playing every role—the Neesongularity.
What will it be like when that movie, which will probably be titled something like, “Neeson’s List: Clash of the Grey Wolves Taken by Kinsey when Batman Begins,” finally comes out? I shudder to even imagine it. I expect we’ll feel some kind of collective satisfaction—perhaps even a sense of relief?—knowing that human storytelling has finally reached its apex, that every dimension of our experience has been articulated, and that Liam Neeson was the medium through which the human could finally speak itself. I just pray that I live to see it.