Tom Cruise

Legend (1985)

Legend (1985)

(Cineplex Streaming, December 2019) Coming toward the end of the 1980s fantasy boom, Legend has the hallmarks of a Ridley Scott production: The story is serviceable at best, but the visual polish of the film is almost enough to make us forget about the narrative. Tom Cruise stars as a young man searching for a princess (Mia Sara, unremarkable) that has been kidnapped by a demon (Tim Curry, intensely remarkable). Clearly executed with a fairy-tale tone, the film is first about images and secondarily about everything else: the characters are usually archetypical (with a few twists), the dialogue is out of fantasy central, and the episodic structure gets stronger the closer we get to getting things done. Still, it’s worth a look for anyone looking at the way 1980s fantasy films were able to work around practical special effects limitations, or how Curry can chew scenery with big horns, or how a rather young Tom Cruise did in such a production.

All the Right Moves (1983)

All the Right Moves (1983)

(In French, On TV, October 2019) If you want your movie to accumulate some unearned posterity, there is no better way than having the lead actors become one of Hollywood’s superstars. In other words, I don’t think we’d remember All the Right Moves so fondly if it didn’t star Tom Cruise in the lead role. In many ways, it’s entirely forgettable teen movie. A bit grittier than most, it follows a crucial moment in the life of our protagonist, a high-school senior who wants to become an engineer, but whose only ticket out of town may be a football scholarship. As a product of the early 1980s that owes a lot to the New Hollywood of the previous decade, it’s often aiming to be a slice of blue-collar Americana, with The Mill looming large as the town’s biggest employer and the desperation to escape a small-town life being central to the character’s motivation. The drama comes in after a crucial football loss, with events leading our protagonist to antagonize the football coach and perhaps his only way out. But, of course, our protagonist is a likable guy stuck between various loyalties, and the way these Horatio Algeresque fables resolve themselves usually comes by having him rewarded for his virtues. All the Right Moves is not a complicated film: Even if the ending appears to pop out of nowhere, it’s meant to be a bit of a sop to conventional moral values. The draw here was and remains a freshly faced Tom Cruise, in one of his early roles before Risky Business put him on the map. As a film, it’s a bit of an unremarkable high school drama. As a look at early Cruise, though, it does still have its merits.

Mission: Impossible – Fallout (2018)

Mission: Impossible – Fallout (2018)

(Netflix Streaming, May 2019) Enough information has emerged from Mission Impossible—Fallout’s chaotic production history (a 33-page outline in lieu of a script at the beginning of production, plot points being rewritten on the go to fit around the action sequences, Tom Cruise breaking his ankle on-screen and delaying production by nine weeks, three significant action sequences seen in trailers but cut from the film…) to make us aghast that this is what modern blockbuster production has turned into. But it’s hard to argue when the result is so successful. Building on top of great action sequences to deliver a fairly decent thriller with some surprising thematic depth, Fallout digs a bit deeper into the normally-ludicrous IMF mythology, brings back a surprising number of references to previous films in what had been up to now a very loosely connected series and builds upon the previous movie to provide the female characters with a greater role to play. Everyone’s getting older in this film (Tom Cruise in the first place, but also Ving Rhames and Simon Pegg) but the stunts are getting wilder and the plotting more convoluted. Alec Baldwin is a lot of fun to watch as a good guy, while series newcomer Henry Cavill does have a menacing presence and Vanessa Kirby makes a significant impression in a short role—beyond sheer looks, I suspect she has that elusive quality we’re looking for in a lasting star, but we’ll see what she can do next in Hobbs & Shaw. Still, this is Cruise’s show as he jumps, runs, shoots, dives and pilots a helicopter in a desperate chase as orchestrated by recurring writer-director Christopher McQuarrie. Much of Fallout’s fun is in the escalating action sequences that just keep going and going, their requirements driving the circumlocutions of the plot more than anything else. The Mission Impossible series has never been about real-world verisimilitude as much as audaciousness on how they play their ludicrous spy-thriller cards. Now that the series seems to be heading with a more tightly-plotted arc (using the terms as loosely as possible), it’s going to be interesting to see how long it can keep going: The series is still centred around the fifty-something Cruise, and while it now seems willing to keep bringing back its female characters for return engagements (Rebecca Ferguson and Michelle Monaghan here, so let’s hope for Thandie Newton and Maggie Q next) there’s an open question as to how much competition Cruise can tolerate in his own showcase series—we’ll note that neither Jeremy Renner nor Cavill are likely to be back for the next film. Still, the fact that we’re openly contemplating a seventh instalment is something of an achievement at a time when most series run out of steam at this point. If it’s going to be Tom Cruise’s playground, then let’s keep him playing.

The Color of Money (1986)

The Color of Money (1986)

(In French, On Cable TV, May 2019) I’m one of those weirdos that doesn’t particularly care for the original The Hustler (1961), so I was coming to The Color of Money with low expectations. Which may have worked to the later film’s advantage, as I found it more interesting than its predecessor. It helps that this follow-up does what sequels often loath to do—use the previous film as back-story while telling a new story in which returning characters are developed in interesting ways. Much of the credit for this creative intention goes directly to the authors of the novel from which The Color of Money is adapted, who conceived it as a sequel to the novel that spawned The Hustler. Paul Newman is back as a former professional pool player, now more interested in staking bets for younger players. Playing against him is Tom Cruise as a younger, more impulsive player, and the great-looking Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio as the third party in their merry crew. (Plus, John Turturro as an evil hustler.)  The relationship between the three characters is what sustains The Color of Money on its way to the final tournament in Atlantic City, with everyone changing and allying themselves differently every few scenes. The middle of the film even sees a significant plot rearrangement, as the mentor/mentee relationship gives way to the mentor getting himself back into the game. While not quite as dramatic as its twenty-five-year distant prequel, The Color of Money nonetheless makes for fascinating viewing. Director Martin Scorsese being Scorsese, there are a few technically impressive shots here, as well as new ways of showing familiar things—most notable being the pool-as-tennis sequence, and some shorts from the perspective of the ball. The ending isn’t particularly cheery, but it does work to cap off the film in a satisfying way. It’s not quite as ambitious or universal as The Hustler, but The Color of Money does feel more enjoyable.

Cocktail (1988)

Cocktail (1988)

(In French, On Cable TV, December 2018) I’m not sure when “peak Tom Cruise” actually was, but there’s no denying that his late-1980s popularity following Top Gun was off-the-chart. Most of his projects back then (and still now) banked on his charisma. Cocktail certainly makes a lot of mileage with Cruise’s boyish charm: Here he plays an ambitious young man initially taking up bartending to make ends meet while working toward a business degree. But when his showy bartending earns him more attention than he knows what to do with, it leads to a break-up with his mentor, romantic entanglements and many more money-related complications. It gets very melodramatic very quickly, and the result is a mess that doesn’t quite know what tone to aim for. To be fair, there are a few great moments of the film, especially in the first half as the 1980s atmosphere is most visibly deployed and as the flair bartending style gets a lot of attention. But those moments of greatness probably work against Cocktail as a whole, especially once we’re off to increasingly unlikely and grandiose plot development that suck whatever energy the film was able to create in those moments. I suspect that Cruise’s presence in the film ended up creating part of the atonality problems: Cruise being Cruise, any film producer would want to give him a flashy part, a big smile and a happy ending, whereas a smaller-scale movie with a lesser-known lead actor probably could have delivered a rougher, more authentic drama about the ups and downs in the life of a bartender. Who knows? What’s obvious, though, is that the film doesn’t quite work as a seamless whole. The plot gets more arbitrary, and it feels stuck between down-and-dirty intentions and its star’s megawatt personality. Cocktail doesn’t mix well, and the result can be dumbfounding when seen thirty years later.

American Made (2017)

American Made (2017)

(On Cable TV, June 2018) Interesting things happen when directors and superstar develop working relationships. I’m not sure that we would have American Made with Tom Cruise had it not been directed by Doug Liman, and if both of them hadn’t worked together on Edge of Tomorrow. No matter how we got here, American Made features Tom Cruise as a pilot who (he says) gets hired by the CIA to do dodgy things such as run drug shipments, liaise with drug lords and generally do what the CIA was suspected of doing in the 1980s. There’s a lot of “allegedly” here, but much of it does fit with what we know of CIA operations at the time. Under Liman’s direction, the story becomes a wild ride with quite a bit of colour correction as the protagonist escapes day-to-day drudgery to run an exciting double life as a covert agent. There’s quite a bit of flight romance here—don’t be surprised to want to learn to fly a small plane after seeing what they do here. (Although the crash sequence is a cautionary moment.)  The film works generally well, even with its inevitable grim finale and the numerous deviations from the real event that (allegedly) inspired the movie. Cruise’s innate charm are a good fit for the roguish character portrayed here (and only loosely based on inspiration Barry Seal), giving further sympathy and energy to the film. There have been many 1980s biopics lately, but American Made does have a few good action sequences to it, some comedy and a few links to recent history. It’s not a great movie, but it is good enough.

Jack Reacher: Never Go Back (2016)

Jack Reacher: Never Go Back (2016)

(Netflix Streaming, March 2018) What annoys me about Jack Reacher: Never Go Back is that the series of novels upon which the films are based, Lee Child’s “Reacher” cycle, is special. They’re above-average thrillers in which the true shape of the plot is often hidden from view until late in the story. Reacher is an extraordinary character, and Child has honed his writing ability to deliver exactly what a modern adventure series should provide. Sit down with a Reacher book, and you’ll be guaranteed (at one or two exceptions) a solid entertainment experience well above the norm for the genre. Alas, the film adaptation, and particularly this second instalment, has been the definition of average … if not even below average. Plus, as has been endlessly rehashed, Tom Cruise is all wrong for the part. If the first Jack Reacher film managed to be a decent thriller, Never Go Back starts off promisingly, but then becomes less and less interesting until it becomes a bog-standard arms-dealing film, executed limply. It’s actually hard to care for most of what’s happening in the second half of the film given that it feels like so many other similar movies. Cruise is bland in the role, and saddling the story with a potential-paternity subplot does little to humanize the character or give him a personal stake. All told, Never Go Back is a dud—and it should pretty much ensure that a so-so series remains dead for the foreseeable future. That’s not exactly bad news for Reacher fans—at least the books are still coming out every year.

The Mummy (2017)

The Mummy (2017)

(On Cable TV, February 2018) There’s something … off about this newest edition of The Mummy that exemplifies the worst in modern blockbuster movies. It’s not even worth comparing to the already classic 1999 film that perfectly blended comedy with adventure and introduced us to Rachel Weisz. It’s clunky enough on its own terms. Part of the problem is pitching the film as the first in the “Dark Universe” (nice logo!), an acknowledged copycatting of the MCU that is up to its third attempt to launch a shared universe of movies: We get glimpses of intriguing things, but the film keeps its best shots in reserve in anticipation of something else. Part of the problem is Tom Cruise, increasingly too old and too proud to play the same roles in the same way. Part of the problem is a script that doesn’t quite know what to do with itself, and suffers from a dull premise that can’t manage to tie everything together. It’s shorter to list the things that aren’t a problem: Sofia Boutella is (as usual) fantastic and alluring in her role as the villain mummy Ahmanet—sufficiently so, in fact, that she practically becomes the sympathetic protagonist to cheer for. Russell Crowe is enjoyable as Dr. Jekyll—the film can’t figure out what to do with the character, but Crowe’s hulking bulk is used to good effect. The plane crash sequence (as a few other scenes here and there) is well executed. Bits and pieces of the shared universe are admittedly cool—having classic Universal monsters interact and a secret organization to keep track of them isn’t a bad idea, even though The Mummy isn’t the best showcase for such a crossover event. Alas, there is so much boring stuff in the film that it struggles to keep our interest whenever Ahmanet isn’t on-screen—Annabelle Wallis is dull as the nominal heroine, and the various shenanigans regarding Cruise’s character and his relationship to death are really far less interesting than they should have been. And then there’s the ugly side of the script (a plane crash next to THE church required for the next plot point! Sandstorm in London?) and a hero we don’t really care for. Still, this is a big-budget action fantasy film, and there’s enough stuff in here to be worth a forgiving watch. I wouldn’t necessarily mind another Dark Universe film—The Mummy, after all, is better than Dracula Untold and I, Frankenstein. But after three false starts, wouldn’t it be time to put the idea to rest?

Born on the Fourth of July (1989)

Born on the Fourth of July (1989)

(On DVD, September 2017) Every so often, Tom Cruise’s superstar stature and kooky personal peculiarities can make everyone forget that he can act. Fortunately, there are plenty of counterexamples throughout his career, few as hard-hitting as his performance in Born on the Fourth of July, as he goes from naïve high-schooler to disillusioned Vietnam veteran. Ably written and directed by Oliver Stone, this is a film that, in many ways, stands as a definitive statement on the experience of many Vietnam veterans—lured into service by idealism, wounded in combat, ostracized by American society. It’s not an easy film to watch, but Cruise is really good in the lead role and the movie acts as a witness to an inglorious period in American history that shouldn’t be forgotten. It’s a long movie, but then again it spans more than a decade in a young man’s life, and part of Cruise’s challenge is to portray both a naïve high-schooler and a grizzled veteran. Willem Dafoe also shows up in a pivotal role. Born on the Fourth of July acts as a spiritual sequel of sorts to Platoon, and definitely ranks in the upper third of Stone movies.

Top Gun (1986)

Top Gun (1986)

(Second viewing, On TV, December 2016) I’ve been re-watching a fair amount of eighties movies lately, and I’m struck by what ages well and what doesn’t. Re-watching Top Gun, I’m most struck by its absence of subtlety. The macho ego is in naked display here, whether it’s flying planes or wooing women, the characters do it without the semblance of sophistication. The entire movie is like this: straight to the point, unimpeded by complexity. The producers (celebrated duo Jerry Bruckheimer & Don Simpson) clearly aimed for that result. The typically American glorification of the military is never far below the surface, and the anti-foreign jingoism isn’t either. Watching Top Gun, it seems almost absurd that it would have worked as well as it did … but it did, and continues to do so today. To be fair, Tom Cruise is a lot of fun in full alpha male mode, and while his banter with Val Kilmer may be on-the-nose, it does feel of a kind with the rest of the film. Kelly McGillis isn’t bad either, and while her character is a prize, she’s somewhat more complex than she could have been. The scene starring the airplanes are nice (although hampered by the production constraints of the time—a Top Gun shot today would feature far more CGI, even if used invisibly) and there are some intriguing real-world details in the depiction of flight officer school. I wouldn’t go as far as saying that I enjoyed Top Gun: Its bluntness hasn’t aged well, and seems to belong to an entirely different culture. But it’s certainly a striking film even today, and it has the advantages of its weaknesses. I, on the other hand, will watch Hot Shots! as an antidote.

Rain Man (1988)

Rain Man (1988)

(Second Viewing, On TV, December 2016) Movies that age well usually manage to have timeless themes while being set at a precise time and place. So it is that Rain Man still manages to be endearing, largely because it tackles a difficult subject honestly while definitely remains a product of the mid-eighties. Tom Cruise and Dustin Hoffman truly star as the mismatched brothers at the heart of the story: The film would be a much lesser piece of work without Cruise’s yuppie chic and Hoffman’s now-iconic mannerisms. The transformation of the film into a road movie is good for a few chuckles, but it also literalizes a long journey of self-discovery for the lead character. Obvious stuff, but capably executed. Where Rain Man doesn’t work so well any more is in its uniqueness and its treatment of autism: At a time when TV shows are dominated by high-functioning autists being presented as superheroes (and I say this as a confirmed fan of both Sherlock and Elementary), the grab bag of idiot savant mannerisms being presented as typical markers of autists is disingenuous—most severely autistic people are nowhere near as charismatic or skillful as Hoffman’s character … but that’s Hollywood for you. Thirty years later, Rain Man remains a joy to watch, and a striking film in part due to its willingness to give the most reasonable ending to everyone involved.

The Firm (1993)

The Firm (1993)

(On Cable TV, October 2016) I’ve complained about this before, so feel free to tune out as I once again complain about the disappearance of the bid-budget realistic thriller in today’s spectacle-driven cinema. A movie like The Firm, adapted from John Grisham’s best-selling novel, focusing on realistic elements and featuring a bunch of well-known actors would be a much tougher sell twenty years later. And that’s too bad, because there’s a lot more to like here than in an umpteenth dull fantasy movie going over the same plot points. While I don’t claim that The Firm is a work of genius, it’s a solid thriller aimed at post-teenage audiences. It did pretty well at the box office, and it’s not hard to understand why in-between good actors such as Tom Cruise, Gene Hackman, a bald Ed Harris, Jeanne Tripplehorn and Holly Hunter working at their peak (with surprising appearances by pre-Saw Tobin Bell as an assassin and Wilford Brimley as a notably evil character) and a story that needles both organized crime and government. The thrills may not feel pulse-pounding by today’s standard, but the film makes up for it through semi-clever plotting, a good handle on the revelations of its material and protagonists sympathetic enough that we’re invested in them rather than the action itself. If I sound like a cranky old critic bemoaning the state of current cinema, it’s largely because The Firm is both an exemplary piece of early-nineties filmmaking and a contrast to today’s similarly budgeted films. It’s got this particular pre-digital patina, a serious intent and actors being asked to actually act throughout the film. I’m not as pessimistic about 2016 cinema as you may guess from this review, but I could certainly stand a few more of those movies today.

A Few Good Men (1992)

A Few Good Men (1992)

(On TV, July 2016) Nearly everyone can quote Jack Nicholson’s furious “You can’t handle the truth!” but watching A Few Good Men highlights how that line works best as a culmination rather than a standalone quote. A somewhat sombre judicial drama in which a hotshot lawyer (Tom Cruise, remarkably good) takes on the US Marines establishment in an effort to discover what happened to a dead soldier, A Few Good Men is the kind of slick mainstream drama that has almost disappeared from the box-office top-ten. Slickly made with a roster of good actors, it has the means to present its story as effectively as possible. The result is a good comfortable film, handled with old-school care. It may not be all that efficient (the opening act is notably slow, and missteps in initially focusing on a character who’s not the real protagonist) but it’s competent and slowly makes its way to a conclusion heavy on shouting and courtroom excitement. Jack Nicholson is good in a surprisingly small role (it looks as if he showed up for a few days of work), Kiefer Sutherland pops up as a soldier, while Demi Moore doesn’t impress all that much in a fairly conventional role that leaves far too much glory to Tom Cruise’s character.

Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation (2015)

Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation (2015)

(Video on Demand, March 2016) It’s a minor miracle that the Mission: Impossible series is still going strong after five instalments, but after the near-death-by-ridiculousness of the second movie, the series has managed to hit upon a winning formula that still keeps it going nearly twenty years later. The formula is getting a bit repetitive (can we stand another of those “Ethan Hunt must operate without official support!” plot point?) but nearly everyone understands that plotting in this series is really about getting from one action set-piece to the next, and in this regard Rogue Nation is as good as any other instalment in the series. Tom Cruise’s ridiculously effective charisma helps, and so does the work of the series’ usual supporting players, but this time around the film can count upon a fully fleshed action heroine played by Rebecca Ferguson (too bad she won’t show up for the next instalment, as is custom), straightforward action direction by Christopher McQuarrie, and a pretty enjoyable supporting performance by Alec Baldwin, making the most out of a villainous persona. Good action set pieces include a complex opera house sequence and a frantic car chase in which the pursuer isn’t completely back from the dead. On the flip side, the computer break-in sequence is piled-up nonsense that borrows a bit too much from the first movie, and the final act of the film doesn’t have a strong action sequence as a send-off. The fantasy version of the espionage craft displayed by the series also cuts both ways, either as an escapist bonus, or as a regrettable absurdity when a bit more plotting realism would help anchor the delirious action sequences. This being said, Rogue Nation has the benefit of meticulously planned sequences and a controlled tone throughout—making it stand a bit above most of the other spy movies of 2015’s anno furtivus—yes, even better than Spectre, with which it shared a striking number of plot points. What’s left to do but anticipate the next instalment?

Going Clear: Scientology & the Prison of Belief (2015)

Going Clear: Scientology & the Prison of Belief (2015)

(On Cable TV, September 2015) Documentary filmmaker Alex Gibney takes on the church of Scientology in Going Clear, and the result is as fascinating as any of his other movies.  Adapted from Lawrence Wright’s book Going Clear: Scientology, Hollywood and the Prison of Belief, it’s a highly critical look at the inner workings of Scientology, featuring a number of disillusioned former high-ranking members of the organization.  After a look at the colorful life of Scientology founder L. Ron Hubbard, Going Clear spends time detailing the recent and current activities of the organization and the reasons why several of its former members have left it.  Along the way, the relationship between Scientology and its star members John Travolta and Tom Cruise is detailed in ways to make us understand how they all benefit from the association.  It’s a slick documentary, although the “dramatic recreation” segments meant to illustrate some of the material is overdone: the interview alone are compelling enough.  Going Clear is builds to a highly critical portrait of Scientology, packaging together a lot of material that has been available for years but seldom presented in such a self-contained form.  Read the film’s Wikipedia article for more details on the ensuing controversy.