First Reformed

"My hands shake as I write these words."

Paul Schrader certainly has themes that he likes to revisit. One does not have to look far to see elements of his latest movie ‘First Reformed’ that feel reminiscent of his past masterworks. “God’s lonely man” was a tagline used to describe ‘Taxi Driver’ and also seems applicable here, as is the protagonist wrestling with his inner demons seen in ‘Raging Bull’ as well as the crisis of faith seen in ‘Last Temptation of Christ.’ But while the broad themes are similar, the execution pushes beyond anything the veteran filmmaker has done so far.

Ernst Toller (Ethan Hawke) is the pastor of a First Reformed, a small church in upstate New York with a prestigious history but dwindling attendance. Leading what appears to be from a glance a stable and faith filled life, Toller rapidly spirals out of control after a soul-shaking encounter with an unstable environmental activist and his pregnant wife (Amanda Seyfried).

As well as themes of faith, inner demons and self-destructive tendencies, another noteworthy aspect of Schrader’s filmography is his love of transcendental filmmaking. Before he became a writer/director Schrader wrote a book on the method of making movies under a transcendental lens and theorised that empty space within a movie’s plot can immerse the viewer rather than serve as a disconnect. By leaving the viewer room to ponder the deeper implications of what the film is trying to say, thereby drawing them in deeper to the artist’s intent.   

You can find a lot of transcendental method within ‘First Reformed’ and it is necessary to the film’s overall impression on the viewer as Schrader is presenting several hefty themes. The film unfolds almost as a stream of consciousness but framed around a deeply layered character study that paints its portrait slowly and assuredly. It’s only by the end of the movie that you are granted the full picture of who Ernst Toller is and how deep his inner demons run. It plays to the strengths of what Schrader has exhibited in so many other masterful screenplays. He presents an unreliable narrator rocked by his own crisis of faith, and uses each of those elements to evoke such constant intrigue.

Just as Schader uses transcendental techniques within the narrative, he also uses them within the framing and composition of the film. The film is shot in academy ratio which not only creates an enclosed space around the width of the frame, but also expands the top. There’s a lot of negative space within numerous shots in ‘First Reformed’ which reflect the emptiness Toller seems to feel as his faith becomes more fragile. Or perhaps the space is meant to evoke the sense that there is a presence within his life, just one that remains elusive and ominously hangs over him.

Though this measured approach means the pacing of ‘First Reformed’ can drag at times, the spiritual atmosphere of the film is incredibly effective. As Toller grapples with his own crisis of faith we feel each empty second passing by. We can empathise with his own aguish as he searches for meaning and hope in a world that seems increasingly cynical the longer we inhabit it. The film also retains an impeccable sense of focus, never losing sight of its own themes and constantly developing each one as the plot continues to unfold.

Perhaps the most involving aspect of the film is watching Ethan Hawke’s performance because it is truly mesmerising. Hawke plays the role with such reserved intensity that he instantly invites the viewer to uncover his inner workings. Hawke is pleasant and empathetic enough to paint a portrait of a kindly preist, but also elusive enough to indicate that something more sinister is lurking beneath the surface. When we do get glimpses of those darker inclinations within Toller Hawke once again nails the role. He effortlessly conveys a palpable sense of menace, as if this man’s unravelling could easily lead to an unstable and dangerous individual. It’s part of what makes the viewer invested in Toller retaining his faith. For no other reason than out of fear of what might happen to others if such a man were to lose it.  

There is a lot of ambiguity to Schrader’s film that some viewers may find overly obtuse. No aspect of the movie provides a clear cut answer and sometimes you have to search for meaning within the events in the same way the characters themselves continuously search for meaning. There are also moments of heavy symbolism that break the realist of this once grounded drama and become completely expressionistic. Certain sequences can be thought of as being entirely symbolic or only partially, and it’s that unclear distinction between the two that drives so much of the film.

But even when you look past the allegorical moments, ‘First Reformed’ still functions as a deeply compelling drama. The emotions that the script conjures are earned and raw, creating a picture that depicts a deeply damaged individual who is slowly being destroyed from the inside. Anyone who has undergone a disconnect with the world around them can relate to Toller, and subsequently fear for what he may become.  

Dramatically powerful and thematically resonant, ‘First Reformed’ stands alongside some of Schrader’s best work as a filmmaker.

Result: 9/10

Hot Summer Nights

"So you're sending me away for the summer? That's very cliché."

You would struggle to find anyone who had a better year than Timothee Chalamet did in 2017. Despite each role being somewhat minor he still left quite an impression through his performances in Greta Gerwig’s ‘Lady Bird’ and Scott Cooper’s ‘Hostiles’. But of course his biggest success came with his phenomenal turn in ‘Call Me By Your Name’ which earned him a well-deserved Oscar nomination for Best Actor. It’s the kind of year that makes you instantly excited for anything the actors is attached to next. Which brings us to ‘Hot Summer Nights’.

During one scorching summer in Cape Cod, Daniel Middleton (Timothee Chalamet) is an awkward teenager who quickly gets in over his head when what starts as a simple money making scheme rapidly becomes a miniature drug empire. As well as the stresses of running his own illegal business, he also finds himself falling for his business partner's enigmatic sister during.

It’s hard not to be enticed by the trailer for Elijah Bynum’s debut feature because it looks like madcap collection of incredible moments and incidents. There’s no denying that there are not some truly impressive and well-staged scenes across the movie, but they are rare in their appearance and hardly enough to sustain the film as a whole. Ultimately the movie is a cheap and uninspired tour through a series of clichés that you might find in any coming of age or crime drama.

I can certainly agree that there is some intrigue in trying to merge those two genres since they each consistently deal with themes of parental relationships and identity. But ‘Hot Summer Nights’ never consolidates this clash of genres and instead just bounces awkwardly in between. The movie feels both strangely melodramatic but also underplayed. On the one hand it struck me being somewhat ludicrous that Danial would amass his own drug empire over the course of the summer but at the same time I never felt any sense of weight or severity to that story device. It wants to be playful and dramatic but can never draw a clear line between the two.

A24 isn’t exactly a studio you could accuse of throwing out a cheap cash grab, but in purchasing and pushing a film like ‘Hot Summer Nights’ in its rostra I wonder if that move was purely in the name of monetary gain. After all they have made a concerted effort to capitalise on the stardom of Chalamet, emphasising his name and role in the advertising of this movie. There’s no distinct voice or unique vision to find within the film because ultimately there isn’t much of anything. The dialogue does not possess any rhythm or wit, mostly just being functional at best. There’s no intrigue or innovation to how the story is presented and unfolds. This is all putting aside how uniformly bland the story is as a whole, being littered with tropes and clichés.

But as I said at the start of this review there are some moments of flair to be found within the movie. Some of the character introductions in particular are wonderful to behold, evoking a sense of intrigue with each introduction and creating a distinct mood that fits their subsequent characterisation very well. It’s a moment of interest that if anything only makes the subsequent descent into tired tropes more disappointing. The way we are introduced to each character inspires a sense that their journey might be unique and they could develop in unforeseen ways, as opposed to what actually happens which is about as predictable as they come.

Given that this was filmed before his start turning year during which he worked with some of the best filmmakers working today, I was a little apprehensive that in retrospect Chalamet’ s performance would not hold up to the quality of his current work. But I’m pleased to say that his performance is not only excellent but boosts the film as a whole. There’s a sense of energy and underlying charisma to his portrayal of Daniel that makes his subsequent power play somewhat believable from a character standpoint, even if the film’s script can’t do the same. But at the same time Chalamet adds a layer of naivety to his performance that works well to increase the tension in his ensuing decisions. As an audience we are well aware that he is capable of making mistakes, and not invulnerable to the consequences of any possible mistakes he might make.

The cinematography by Javier Julia is also fantastic. It works wonders to evoke a mood and associative location, matching the tone of the film’s title perfectly. You look at any exterior shot of this film with the chosen colour palette and framing choices, and you instantly buy into the atmosphere of these hot summer nights. Despite his shortcomings from a broader story perspective Brynum even injects some evocative compositions into the film which allow some of its images to leave a lasting impression, even if the story around them falls flat.

Boasting some impressive style but lacking any discernible substance, ‘Hot Summer Nights’ is a disappointingly empty movie.

Result: 5/10  

Tully

"It'll be like a Lifetime movie with the nanny who kills the family and the mom survives and she has to walk with a cane at the end." 

Jason Reitman has always been deeply fascinated with people in their own habitat. His best films certainly reflect the method of studying a character within the domain in which they are most comfortable and gradually peeling back the layers of their own persona. How layered and nuanced he is in this approach acts as a measurement of how each particular project weighs up. Regardless of the final product though, there’s always a level of intrigue going into a film by Reitman.  

Marlo (Charlize Theron) is a New York suburbanite who's about to give birth to her third child. Her second son has a rare developmental disorder. Meanwhile her husband, despite being a loving and supportive figure, remains clueless about the demands that motherhood puts on his wife. When the baby is born, Marlo's wealthy brother hires a night time nanny named Tully (Mackenzie Davis) to help his sister handle the workload.

The premise of ‘Tully’ certainly fits in with Reitman’s usual forte as a filmmaker, with the film observing just a sparse handful of characters and rarely moving location over the course of its runtime. But in doing so Reitman once again showcases his skill of observing and dissecting people for their inner qualities. I imagine it is one of the aspects that actors must relish when working with him. It gives them a chance to put aside distractions regarding a convoluted plot and instead focus completely on developing a fully realised character.

Charlize Theron has proven herself as one of the best actors of this era on multiple occasions, so it would take a lot for a performance of hers so surprise me. Yet ‘Tully’ does just that as Theron portrays a character with such intimacy and warmth that I feel I’ve never quite seen from her before. It’s such a departure from her tour de force performances in ‘Monster’ and ‘Mad Max: Fury Road’ in which she plays damaged people hardened to the world around them. ‘Tully’ gives her a chance to a vulnerability that is deeply moving to behold. But what makes it even more impactful is how Theron bestows such a sense of inner strength to the character. Both Theron’s performance and the movie as a whole act as a touching tribute to motherhood.

It would be easy to focus purely on Theron, but the small supporting cast around her are also terrific in their respective roles. Davis adds enough ambiguity to Tully as a character that as a viewer you empathise with Marlo’s own doubts at first and subsequently experience each surprise and revelation about her personality as Marlo does. Ron Livingstone also makes for a reassuring presence as Marlo’s husband Drew. He plays the character with a level of sympathy that’s refreshing when the character could so easily have descended into a one note neglectful type.

This is where Diablo Cody’s screenplay works wonders because it consistently renders the characters of the story as complex individuals. There’s no cinematic shorthand or lazy generalisations. Instead Cody takes the time to endear his audience to each character on some level, and then slowly opens them up for the audience to observe. It’s gradual and perfectly paced to the film’s runtime, never coming across as contrived or melodramatic. This approach is perfectly matched by Reitman’s direction which possesses a deep affection for observing these characters, to a point where the camera itself seems hurt by their pain and struggles.

Another aspect that is treated with a refreshing amount of nuance and variety is the tone of the film itself. There are so many moments at which ‘Tully’ could risk coming across as depressingly sombre but Cody’s dialogue and Reitman’s direction keep the proceedings entertaining when they need to be. The moments of comedy that are spread across the struggles of these people only work to endear the audience to them even more, whilst making the movie more impressive as it reaches a wider spectrum of human emotion. But adding comedy brings another risk, wherein a film can easily undercut its own drama with not enough weight. But once again ‘Tully’ treads the tonal tightrope excellently.

Though the story is sparse, being driven more by characters and emotion than outside occurrences ‘Tully’ flies by at a welcome pace. It never overstays its welcome and hardly feels empty either. My only gripe would be that the third act does descend into some contrived melodrama to further the plot. It’s not that these plot points are not justified, but they do clash with the low key tone at which the rest of the movie unfolds, since it suddenly plunges into a faster form of storytelling. But aside from that, ‘Tully’ is consistently effective in the area it most wants to be, emotional resonance.

Emotionally endearing and punctuated with fully realised characters that contain a plethora of nuance, ‘Tully’ sees Jason Reitman delivering his usual brand of comedic drama.

Result: 8/10

The First Purge

"Tonight, we'll see the good and evil in everyone."

I always feel like ‘The Purge’ movies represent a severe waste of potential. In an age where several genre movies have proven themselves as intriguing social allegories ‘The Purge’ continues to boast the most surface level, thinly conceived philosophical underpinnings of any popular movie of late. It’s concept is played too seriously with too little substance to be treated as anything that could be called enjoyable, but at the same time the movies insist upon their own significance so much that they ruin any dramatic impact they could potentially hold. Anyway, here’s another one.

To push the crime rate below one percent for the rest of the year, the New Founding Fathers of America test a sociological theory that vents aggression for one night in one isolated community. But when the violence of oppressors meets the rage of the others, the contagion will explode from the trial-city borders and spread across the nation.

“So, you know when the purge started did people get into it right away or were they more like ‘Wait, what? This is gonna stop crime how exactly?’” – Morty Smith.

If I do possess any level of intrigue over ‘The Purge’ as a franchise, it would be to try and answer that question posed in ‘Rick and Morty’. It’s not that the premise and concept that drives ‘The Purge’ is ludicrous, it’s that the franchises are always caught in this awkward middle ground of wanting to explain their own mythology and treating their central concept as a genuine ideology, whilst also aiming for the lowest common denominator of action cinema. They want to convey the illusion of containing socially relevant themes without putting any actual effort into developing those themes which as it turns out don’t exist in the first place.

There’s also a real sense of cognitive dissonance in how these movies discuss and present violence. On the one hand everything about the narrative and characters seems built to convey the idea that the concept of the purge is fundamentally flawed and need to end. But then at the same time they revel in the bloodshed and violence to a degree that feels like they are indulging the very characteristic they want to preach against. The desire for violence is an eternal paradox that three separate movies, now four, have yet to escape from.

You can find the same confused morals in ‘The First Purge’, with even the basic premise being a confused and pointless foundation. So the film attempts to rationalise this first purge as being an experiment, something that was only introduced in one area and then presumably spread as a nationally accepted concept. So this limits the scope of ‘The First Purge’ to a single island. The contradiction however, comes when you realise that no other ‘Purge’ film has reached beyond a single group of characters or environment. None of these films have explored any wider context for the Purge as a concept so there’s still no point in trying to rationalise it as having a cohesive origin. Once again, either lean into the over the top insanity or make more of an effort to work as a compelling film, don’t fall awkwardly in between.

If it sounds like I’m talking at length about the concepts around ‘The First Purge’ rather than the actual film, that would be due to how the premise itself is still the most interesting thing within this movie by a wide margin. As a movie ‘The First Purge’ is another cheap, slightly exploitative, thinly drawn and hardly cohesive action/thriller. The action itself has little weight or meaning to it, once again creating an approach to action that is at odds with its own narrative. Much like the citizens who inhabit this world I almost found myself numbed to the carnage as it unfolded, with what should be a gripping and exhilarating third act instead being dreary and uninspired.

This movie even follows the pattern of having its protagonist be portrayed by an actor that feels so much better than the film he finds himself in. With ‘The Purge’ we had Ethan Hawke evoking some level of empathy and its two sequels had Frnk Grillo providing a manic intensity that seemed to realise what tone would be best suited to these films. Once again the lead role, in this case Y’lan Noel is surprisingly compelling as a protagonist. The character he portrays is confusingly written both in terms of characteristics and moral motive. But Noel’s portrayal sells each conflicting aspect of the character, and makes it all the more disappointing that the screenplay couldn’t make its mind up regarding what the character should actually be.

In fact I don’t think screenplay knows what it wants to be in general. I’ve already referenced the movie’s moral confusion at length but even on a momentary basis ‘The First Purge’ undermines it’s own established tone at every opportunity. Horrifically violent scenes can be playing out and a character will randomly spout a painfully obvious one liner. Some action sequences are grotesquely intense and others are laughably over the top. There isn’t a single aspect of the movie where the script doesn’t feel at odds with itself.

Shallow, uninteresting and tonally confused, its business as usual for ‘The Purge’ franchise.

Result: 3/10

Mission: Impossible - Fallout

"How many times has Hunt's government betrayed him, disavowed him, cast him aside? How long before a man like that has had enough?"

Until this point the ‘Mission: Impossible’ franchise has been five directors each creating their idealised version of the spy movie. However, with the latest instalment ‘Fallout’ marking the first time in which a director has returned to helm a second instalment of the franchise, there’s an added element of intrigue. Christopher McQuarrie guided ‘Rogue Nation’ to unprecedented levels of success so the question is less about whether he can deliver a good film, but can he even hope to top his last effort?

After a terrorist organisation made from the remnants of The Syndicate steal three plutonium cores, Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) and the IMF must join forces with CIA assassin August Walker (Henry Cavill) to recover the missing objects before they are used to wreak mass destruction. But as various faces from the past start to resurface, Ethan’s mission rapidly becomes decidedly more complicated.

Roger Ebert once referred to a sub-genre of action cinema that he referred to as the “bruised forearm movie”. The kind of film that isn’t just exhilarating, but is relentless in its action to a point where you find yourself grabbing the arm of whoever is next to you just to feel secure for a second. It unfolds at a speed that absorbs the audience from the opening frame and refuses to release them until the closing credits. Despite being nearly 2 ½ hours long I was honestly afraid to blink out of fear that the movie would fly by in that split second.

There’s a beautiful rhythm to the way McQuarrie’s film unfolds that makes it comparable to some of the greatest films ever to come from the action genre. The relentless momentum of ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’, tension filled set pieces of ‘Die Hard’ and the constant motion of ‘Mad Max: Fury Road’, they can all be found within ‘Mission: Impossible – Fallout’ as well. On a structural level the film just flows seamlessly from one astonishing set piece to the next, always filling it’s time with a point of intrigue to keep the audience in a constant state of suspense.

In an age where so many action movies concern themselves with mindless spectacle, McQuarrie has helmed a film of such stunning craftsmanship that it almost defies belief. It’s assembled in such a way so that every stunt is so wildly ambitious that just thinking about orchestrating such a feat is insane. But then amid all of the death defying stunt work, McQuarrie never makes a scene feel strained or overloaded. Everything has a cohesive narrative to it, as if each scene is communicating its own short story that then serves the greater narrative of the film as a whole. Nothing is left uncertain and everything remains crystal clear, both on a momentary level from one shot to the other and on a broader story level.

It helps that McQuarrie has so many talented collaborators to execute each element with the utmost care. Rob Hardy’s cinematography renders every shot as a gorgeously framed and exquisitely composed work of art. The way these shots are edited together by Eddie Hamtilton comnstantly conveys a sense of motion without ever feeling overwhelming. The musical score by Lorne Balfe accentuates and punctuates the rhythm of each arrangement. On every technical level the film just moves on with beautiful synchronicity.

It’s easy to dismiss the plot of a film like ‘Fallout’ to be secondary, and in a certain sense it is. The movie knows full well that the story is more of a framework from which to hang thrilling sequences on. But where this film excels is how it evokes a sense of intrigue through the plot without becoming convoluted. In the same way that his high octane scenes have a pulsating rhythm, McQuarrie bestows that same sense of purposefulness to his dialogue as well. No scene exists as an obligation, as every moment of the film seeks to further the narrative or the characters in some significant way.

After a while you become so deeply invested in the characters that their ever changing dynamic can be thrilling enough on its own. What makes the process even better is how the film intertwines the development of the characters with the kinetic pace of the action. It’s where the set pieces go from being more than just spectacular, they become cathartic for the significance they hold to the characters and themes of the movie. It also allows the script to inject some unexpected emotional weight into the unfolding plot. Even at its most joyous ‘Mission: Impossible – Fallout’ remains focussed and grounded through endowing each character with a personal stake in the situation.

It is hard to go into detail over what makes the cast of the film amazing without giving away plot spoilers regarding their characters. So much of the film’s set up involves ambiguous motives and hidden agendas, which every actor within the film evokes perfectly. The likes of Henry Cavill and Rebecca Ferguson create such a strong impression without ever losing the suspense of what motivates their characters or where their allegiances lie. Simon Pegg and Ving Rhames bring such brilliant personality to their supporting roles that just further adds to the appeal of the movie.

Ultimately though it’s Cruise himself who seems to own the film. A lot has already been said about Cruise’s stunt work, which goes above and beyond what any other actor within the action genre is currently doing. But I think an undervalued part of Cruise’s significance in these films is how he;s fortunate enough to work with filmmakers who always want to display his face. Whether it’s a boke chase through Paris or aerial combat in a helicopter, McQuarrie constantly gives the audience a glimpse of Cruise’s intense and frantic expressions. Maybe even more so than the physicality of the stunts, it’s Cruise’s expressionism that well and truly sells each moment.

Spectacular on every conceivable level, ‘Mission: Impossible – Fallout’ is a masterpiece of action cinema and sets a new standard not just for this franchise, but the entire genre.

Result: 9/10

Sicario: Day of Soldado

"You've got no reason to trust me. But trusting me is the only way you're going to say alive."

In many ways 2015’s ‘Sicario’ was elevated by the sum of its parts, which is not to take any credit away from Taylor Sheridan’s efficient and affecting screenplay. But I think the real distinctive qualities of the movie come from the likes of Roger Deakins amazing cinematography, the late Johann Johannsson’s breath taking score, Emily Blunt’s compelling performance and the always mesmerising direction of Denis Villeneuve. It’s sequel has lost all of these elements, retaining only Sheridan as its writer, which forces me to exercise a degree of caution in my expectations.

FBI agent Matt Graver (Josh Brolin) calls on mysterious operative Alejandro Gillick (Benicio Del Toro) when Mexican drug cartels start to smuggle terrorists across the U.S. border. The war escalates even further when Alejandro kidnaps a top kingpin's daughter to deliberately increase the tensions. When the young girl is seen as collateral damage, the two men will determine her fate as they question everything that they are fighting for.

Given that it is missing so many key elements which made the first film remarkable, ‘Day of the Soldado’ is unlikely to ever replicate the greatness of its predecessor but at the same time it could easily morph into something different but distinctive in its own right. Unfortunately ‘Day of the Soldado’ finds itself wedged awkwardly in between to two scenarios, never quite fulfilling either role. Too often the film tries to mimic its predecessor through surface level elements only, copying its aesthetic elements without ever seeming to fully understand why those elements were originally put in place.

Perhaps the most striking example is how ‘Day of the Soldado’ seems at ease with depicting violence and scenes that are disturbingly brutal on both a visceral and moral level. Though this is effective in conveying the ugliness of the world it wants to depict, there’s no craft to justify the shocking nature of what the film is depicting, no thematic undercurrent for it to serve. Instead it’s just an unnecessary parade of unpleasantness with no compelling features or intriguing narrative.

You can find this distinction in how rarely the film employs any sense of restraint. ‘Sicario’ featured its fair share of horrific scenes, but was often ambiguous in depicting said horrors to their full extent. This was because Villeneuve was aware that the violence itself was not the point as much as what the mere presence or knowledge of that violence meant for the film’s narrative. It would be pointless to waste time depicting it since it’s so clearly not what the movie is concerned with. The same cannot be said for the sequel which seems to use this violence as a crux in such a way that it just feels pointless. Ironically in focussing more on the brutality they rob it of its weight. It’s more exploitative than meaningful.

It may be unfair to a certain degree to repeatedly compare ‘Day of the Soldado’ to it’s predecessor but then again the movie itself repeatedly draws that comparison itself. There are so many visual cues and stylistic choices lifted straight from the first film to such a degree that it creates this sense that the movie is frightened of ever trying to deviate from the aesthetic of its predecessor. It constantly reminds you of the elements that were done better elsewhere.

All of this weighs down a film which, at times is strikingly competent in how it goes about staging its action. There are certain set pieces littered across the film that contain an effective amount of tension and visual flair. Director Stefano Sellima keeps the events clear and cohesive, framing his characters as the focus of each set piece and making their state of mind a priority as they are two fascinating subjects. Brolin and Del Toro also portray a great dynamic in their ensuing conflict over the course of the film. Their performances here are definitely worthy of their previous efforts of bringing Sheridan’s script to life.

I wonder if even Sheridan himself seemed to realise within this story the characters themselves were far more worthy for intrigue than any thematic arc. While the characters themselves have a decent amount of depth bestowed upon them, there’s little to no expansion on theme or purpose. Even the character work isn’t enough on its own to justify the film’s runtime, let alone the parade of heavy subject matter that it treats with absolute severity.

As well as that though, the screenplay is structured heavily around the characters. Ultimately though this creates a plot that feels awkwardly weighted in the third act, while dragging for the two that came before it. In fact the third act of ‘Day of Soldado’ feels so rushed and contrived that it almost breaks the suspension of disbelief within the film as a whole. At the very least the movie was attempting to be measured on some level, only to then depart from that approach completely and create a severe case of cognitive dissonance.

At its best ‘Da of the Soldado’ is a hollow imitation of ‘Sicario’. At its worst the film is a shallow and exploitative throwaway.

Result: 4/10

Mission: Impossible - The Franchise So Far...

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when ‘Mission: Impossible’ became the revered franchise that it is today. With five films from five different directors, it stands as a unique series in the landscape of modern filmmaking wherein everything is designed to be cohesive and have connective tissue. Each and every ‘Mission: Impossible’ movie stands on its own as a separate product, with little continuity between each one. In a lot of ways the series is essentially five different filmmakers each realising their own idealised version of the spy movie as a genre. However with ‘Fallout’ hitting cinemas soon and finally braking that pattern of alternating directors, now is obviously an ideal time to look back on each and every instalment.

When ‘Mission: Impossible’ first hit cinemas in 1996, the brand itself was heavily associated with the 1960’s TV series of the same name. In fact the film itself was made as a loose tie in with the series, casting Jon Voigt as an older version of the TV series’ protagonist Jim Phelps. I bring this up because it showcases the evolution of this franchise in the public consciousness. I think it’s a safe bet to say that the movies and Cruise himself are the main associations with the brand name ‘Mission: Impossible’ at this point, arguably eclipsing the property which the first film was aiming to be in service of.

While I doubt that Brian De Palma had such lofty ambitions as to believe that he would instigate a franchise that would still be moving forward two decades later, he certainly made a strong foundation from which to start. But at the same time ‘Mission: Impossible’ is unquestionably a Brian De Palma film. Having directed acclaimed horror/thrillers such as ‘Carrie’ and ‘Blow Out’, De Palma was acutely aware of how to make the tension of each set piece reach boiling point. It’s remarkable how the raw action of ‘Mission: Impossible’ is somewhat low-key but the suspense that preceded each action sequence is utterly palpable and a huge part of what makes them so memorable.

De Palma’s use of dramatic angles, tight close ups and intense lighting bestow each set piece with a sense of weight. The screenplay is convoluted and awkwardly based, transparently serving as little more than a framework for the action sequences. But that in itself is a minor issue given how effectively each set piece functions. De Palma also utilised Tom Cruise as a performer to the best extent. The intensity of Cruise’s performance does a great deal to heighten to momentum and break neck speed of the film even further. With some visually dynamic cinematography to accompany it, De Palma even makes the exposition heavy dialogue scenes look interesting thanks to some clever framing and compositions.

If De Palma relied on tension to support his film, then Jon Woo went in the opposite direction when he was brought in to direct ‘Mission: Impossible 2’. As the director behind dozens of masterful Hong Kong action movies from ‘The Killer’ to ‘Hard Boiled’, he seemed like a fitting candidate for this kind of property. Unfortunately none of his skills were properly utilised in this 2000 film. Most of its issues come from a scripting standpoint. Though the script of ‘Mission: Impossible’ was hardly exceptional, it at least urgency and clearly defined stakes to it. It’s successor possessed neither of these, and instead descends into a meandering mess. There are huge chunks of the film in which not only the action seems absent, but the entire narrative seems to ground to a halt. Events occur, but nothing really develops.

The film doesn’t even poses the globetrotting appeal of its predecessor either, as almost the entire plot takes place in and around Sydney, Australia. Even Woo’s usually stunning action sequences are spilled by his tendency to overindulge. He engages in his own tropes so often and so heavily that the film descends into self-parody. The action sequences themselves lack any clear momentum or sense of movement due to the poor momentary editing. One would hope we could at least rely on Cruise to elevate the film with his usual charisma but in this case Ethan Hunt is drawn as an indestructible super human who can’t evoke any empathy or level of engagement from the audience. With weightless action, a nonsensical screenplay and thinly drawn characters, it’s tough to even view ‘Mission: Impossible 2’ as being on the same astral plane as its predecessor.

Despite all these flaws ‘Mission: Impossible 2’ was a huge commercial success, outgrossing De Palma’s film and going to become the highest grossing film of 2000. If anything that is highly fitting, because I don’t think you could get any better epitome of what the year 2000 was than Tom Cruise throwing a pair of CGI sunglasses at the camera which then explode as a Limp Bizkit rendition of the theme tune blasts out.

It seems that JJ Abrams was well aware of how ‘Mission: Impossible 2’ went astray, because for his turn at directing what would the third instalment of the series, his first step was the ground the action and place an emphasis on handheld camera t further immerse the audience within the momentary thrills of his story. Though Abrams did overcorrect to a certain degree as the use of shaky cam and quick editing can be distracting, it’s still a remarkably confident film considering that this was Abrams directorial debut. He brought all the skills he had built from his work on TV series such as ‘Alias’ and ‘Lost’, especially since M:I 3’ shares many thematic crux’s and narrative devices with each of those. There’s issues of dual identities and Abrams famed “mystery box” method of storytelling to drive the momentum.

But perhaps the best feature of ‘Mission: Impossible 3’ lies with its villain, played by the late great Philip Seymour Hoffman. There’s a casual nature to the way Hoffman goes about his villainy that makes him even more terrifying. You get the sense that he sees Ethan Hunt as less of an adversary and more as just an inconvenience. His confidence in his own ability to win is startling and as the audience you’d be forgiven for believing him right up to the last second. In the protagonists chair once again Cruise is back on top form in portraying Hunt. By placing Hunt within the plot on a more personal level it evokes a kind of desperation from Cruise’s performance. Seeing Hunt rattled on this deep a level as his loved ones are threatened does a lot to shake the audience and make the stakes feel even higher.

However, despite garnering more praise from the critics ‘M: I 3’ actually underperformed at the box office. It sparked suggestions within Paramount of rebooting the franchise without Tom Cruise front and centre. With the future of the franchise in the balance, there was a lot riding on director Brad Bird to ensure that the fourth instalment reignited studio faith in the property. Bird had to deliver something special, and he went above and beyond to bring ‘Ghost Protocol’ in 2011. It unfolds with such a breathless pace but at the same time never feels strained or contrived. Bird’s set pieces flow seamlessly into one another and hardly a second is wasted when it comes to efficient and effective storytelling.

While almost any character beside Ethan Hunt from the first three Missions were forgettable at best, Bird establishes a distinct and memorable team that works brilliantly in ‘Ghost Protocol’. He gives each member of the IMF a distinct personality and clearly defined dynamic that makes their roles both recognisable and functional. Simon Pegg brings a wonderful sense of charm and humour, Jeremy Renner is useful to repeatedly stress the stakes and gravitas of each situation and Paula Patton adds an emotional element that really adds to the film on a human level. Meanwhile Cruise himself is just as effortlessly brilliant as ever.

But the real stars of the movie might be those phenomenal action set pieces which Bird crafts with such intricacy to evoke such awe. They are creative enough and staged on such an impressive level that every sequence contains elements of tension, comedy and cathartic adrenaline, all while furthering the narrative as Bird is a master of action as storytelling. Against all the odds it even feels vaguely reminiscent of Bird’s animation work. The transition from animation to live action did not seem to slow Bird’s creative process down at all, since almost any set piece within ‘Ghost Protocol’ would feel equally at home in ‘The Incredibles’.

I distinctly remember being sceptical as to whether or not 2015’s ‘Rogue Nation’ could hope to top its predecessor. Christopher McQuarrie had a prolific and successful writing career from the Oscar winning ‘The Usual Suspects’ to the action masterclass that is ‘Edge of Tomorrow’. But as a director he seemed to lack a certain identity, or at least that is what I once thought. When he brought ‘Rogue Nation’ to audiences he brought the culmination of the entire franchise, distilling every great element of every prior film and connecting them in a mesmerising spectacle of exhilarating filmmaking.

McQuarrie took the emphasis on a team dynamic that was put to such great use in ‘Ghost Protocol’ and doubled down, crafting several character narratives that elevate the film even further. Even if it’s just through small interactions and shifts in attitude, almost every character seems to undergo some kind of fulfilling arc. This is especially welcome as it allows this supremely talented cast to shine. ‘Rogue Nation’ is the first film in the franchise in which the actors don’t just feel like accessories, but truly essential factors. They’re not just vehicles for the action, they themselves are part of the action.

In fact so much of the film seems to be in perfect synch that I honestly cannot pinpoint a single dull moment. Even ‘Ghost Protocol’ had one or two scenes of clunky exposition, but everything in ‘Rogue Nation’ just seems to move with effortless pace. There’s a breakneck intensity to how the story unfolds but also enough breathing room for the characters to function and develop. Just when you think the film has reached its crescendo and can’t possibly find new ways to thrill you, it exceeds your expectations and pushes the excitement to new levels of genius. A masterclass of action cinema that stands as one of the finest blockbusters of the past decade.

So with McQuarrie being the first director in the franchise’s history to return to helm a second film in the form of ‘Mission: Impossible – Fallout’ it’s hard not to be excited to say the least.