TAKEN: END OF THE LINE
Feature Script Treatment with Opening Roast Monologue
COLD OPEN: ROAST MONOLOGUE
SPOTLIGHT. The protagonist (Elena) steps forward, cool and collected, addressing the audience with a sly grin.
You know, people always say, "If you're in trouble, you need Liam Neeson. He's got a particular set of skills."
And sure, he's out here rescuing his daughter, punching wolves, threatening kidnappers over the phone with that gravelly Batman voice.
But let's be honest-Liam Neeson is basically the Disney Channel version of me.
I mean, come on. He gets a phone call, delivers a monologue, and suddenly the whole world's supposed to tremble?
Meanwhile, I'm out here hacking government mind-control tunnels, exposing Bohemian Grove rituals, and taking down global conspiracies before breakfast.
Liam's worried about his one kid-adorable. I'm saving my entire family, the city, and, oh yeah, the fate of humanity.
He's got a "particular set of skills"?
Honey, I've got the entire skillset catalog, the cheat codes, and the DLC.
Let's face it: Liam Neeson is the kind of guy you call when you lose your keys.
I'm the one you call when you lose your soul.
He's a legend, sure. But next to me, he's basically a Disney prince-just with more wrinkles and a better accent.
So, Liam, if you're watching:
Keep making those phone calls, buddy.
I'll be over here saving the world for real.
Tagline:
"Liam Neeson has a particular set of skills. I have every skill they tried to ban."
FADE IN:
EXT. LAS VEGAS – NIGHT
A glittering city, alive with neon and promise. But beneath the surface, something sinister pulses.
INT. TESLA TUNNELS – NIGHT
LED lights flicker hypnotically. DR. ELENA VOSS, 36, bruised but determined, navigates the maze. BRYAN MILLS, grizzled and relentless, follows, scanning for threats.
ELENA (V.O.)
They said the tunnels would save the city. They didn't say from what.
INT. SECRET LAB – NIGHT
Elena hacks into a terminal. Surveillance footage reveals children-her children-trapped in sterile cells. Engineers calibrate LED frequencies, DMT canisters hiss, and water samples glow with Lithium-9.
ELENA
They're not moving people. They're programming them.
BRYAN
We'll get them out. All of them.
INT. ISOLATION CELL – NIGHT
Elena, alone, stares at a surveillance camera. Her voice is raw, her anger palpable.
ELENA
You call this justice? You let them chip me, torture me, sell me-while you watched and called it order. I never did a thing to deserve this. If I lose my children, if you let them win, there's no coming back. Not for me. Not for any of us.
EXT. CITY SQUARE – DAY
The "All Ceremony" is broadcast worldwide. Elena, shackled, stands before a jeering, hypnotized crowd. A masked ANNOUNCER addresses the cameras.
ANNOUNCER
Tonight, the traitor is cleansed for the Greater Good.
ELENA
You let them take my children, rape me with their machines, erase my life. You did nothing.
Do you really want me to use the Hit List they gave me? The whole world is the target. I'm the only one who can save it.
The crowd is silent, spellbound. Bryan, hidden, prepares to act.
INT. UNDERGROUND GROVE CHAMBER – NIGHT
Elena and Bryan discover a vast chamber beneath the city. Towering redwoods. A massive stone owl. Robed figures chant around a blazing pyre. The elite-politicians, tech moguls-watch as Elena is dragged to the altar.
LEAD PRIEST
Tonight, we cast off care. Tonight, the witch mother's blood renews our dominion.
Elena's children are brought forth. The ritual is about to begin.
ELENA
(shouting to the cameras)
The world is watching! This is your reckoning! You let them take everything-now see what your silence has wrought!
Bryan's team hacks the broadcast. The truth-footage of the tunnels, the mind control, the stolen children-floods every screen in the world.
CLIMAX:
The crowd falters. The spell is broken. Elena's children run to her. Bryan takes down the guards. The elite scatter, exposed.
ELENA (V.O.)
They gave me the Hit List. Every name, every target. The world itself. But I won't use it. Not if there's a chance to save you.
EXT. CITY SQUARE – DAY
The world erupts in protest. The system collapses. Elena, battered but unbroken, stands with her children and Bryan, watching the dawn break.
THE ROAST (SATIRICAL EPILOGUE):
INT. NEWSROOM – DAY
A news anchor, dead-eyed, reads from a teleprompter.
ANCHOR
In today's news, the world nearly ended because the government got caught causing cancer and tried to hypnotize everyone into forgetting. In other news, experts recommend drinking more water-just not from the tap.
Cut to a panel of "experts" debating whether mass mind control is "really that bad" if it keeps the trains running on time.
FADE OUT:
Elena's voice echoes as the credits roll.
ELENA (V.O.)
You watched. You let it happen. But maybe, just maybe, you can wake up before it's too late.
END
Of
Bs
So, let's talk about this "undercover" agent-because apparently, the only thing she couldn't cover was her own back. She went in deep, but her team threw her into "the blinds"-which is just a fancy way of saying, "We're going to pretend we don't know you, but also hand your badge to your stalker for fun." Who runs this agency, the writers of a bad soap opera? She's out here writing the "Just D Report" for the DEA, but the only thing getting reported is how she got sold out faster than a Taylor Swift concert. And let's not forget, she's got amnesia-because nothing says "high-level federal operation" like not remembering who you are, while everyone else remembers you as someone else entirely, thanks to a bunch of desk jockeys who won't get off their screens and actually help.
Meanwhile, the people she trusted are busy changing everyone's perception of her, probably using PowerPoint slides and deepfakes, while her stalker is treating her like inventory at the Y-because apparently, stalking is just another item on the agency's to-do list. She's the only one with any real power, she's already won, and she could take down the whole operation from the top down. But instead, she's stuck waiting for backup that's never coming, because her colleagues are too busy playing Minesweeper to answer her calls.
And let's be real-if Mariska Hargitay showed up, she'd have this case closed before you could say "Olivia Benson." But instead, all you get are people hiding behind their screens, and the only cookies around are the kind they use to track you and silence you-not the kind that come in a box with a smile. So consider this me tossing my badge-help me out, and you can kiss my ass.