What has become of you, Liam Neeson? It used to be that your name’s presence on the marquee really meant something. It stood for quality. For reliability. It told us, “This is a movie worth seeing.” Do you remember “Rob Roy,” Neeson? Do you remember “Michael Collins?” How about “Schindler’s List?” What do you think Oscar Schindler would have to say about “The A-Team?”

A theater critic once called you “a towering sequoia of sex.” But it seems this sequoia has fallen victim to the same fungal infection that afflicts Nicholas Cage. What happened to you guys? Have you both been coerced into making unfathomably terrible movies by some force beyond your control? Do you have a clause in your contract that limits you to mind-numbing action fodder? Is there some kind of career quota for uttering the words “I will find you, and I will kill you,” or are they so addictive that, once uttered, you never want to make another film without them?

Even in your heyday, of course, you were responsible for some stinkers. And that’s okay. Bad movies can happen to good people. Pacino did “Jack & Jill.” DeNiro did “The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle.” We forgave them, just as we forgave you for “The Phantom Menace.”  But your recent run of cinematic atrocities is upsetting largely because you seem so dedicated to the cause. The world does not need another entry in the “Taken” franchise or any others like it. The initial offense was more than enough. Yet you had to pile it on with “The Unforgiven,” and soon you’ll be hitting us with “Taken 2.” What have we done to deserve such cruelty? The movie-going American public deserves better than that. We deserve your respect.

You worked with Woody Allen once. I thoroughly enjoyed “Husbands & Wives.” I enjoyed “Clash of the Titans” considerably less. I didn’t even bother with “Chloe.” There was a time when you could elevate the mediocre (“Love Actually”) and invigorate the imperfect (“Gangs of New York”). You could lift an indie out of obscurity  (“Kinsey”) and lend a comic book franchise some critical clout (“Batman Begins”). You performed in classics (“Les Miserables”) and worked with legends too numerous to name.

I say this to you now, Neeson, because I believe there is still time. I saw  “The Grey.” It was quite good. It gave me hope. Perhaps, for the moment, “The Grey” is simply an anomaly. But it doesn’t have to be that way. It’s not too late for you, Neeson. Not by a long shot.