Okay, here's the deal. One time, when I was a kid, I mistakenly let my momma and daddy send me off to summer camp. Now it wasn't that I didn't get all into the wallet-making and woodcarving and stuff. That was all okay. The swimming and canoeing and treading water didn't do a whole lot for me, seeing as how the "lake" wasn't much more than a flooded quarry hole with water that smelled like boiled eggs. The food? Well, let's just say that, on a dare once, I ate a handful of Georgia Red Clay, and, looking back, that clay was better than anything at Camp Thundercloud.
What ruined the week for me, though, was the last night we were there. All week, we'd been told that, if we were good campers and did all the arts-and-crafts stuff without fighting and passed our basic swimming test, we'd be allowed to join the "great tribe of Chief Thundercloud at the Indian Brave Ritual" on Saturday night. All week, we walked past the meeting area, watching the older counselors constructing this massive bonfire. We heard the rumors of tomahawks slicing our hands, mingling blood with our campmates, and then dripping it into this inferno so our blood would be taken to the High Chief Who Walked in the Happy Hunting Ground. What could possibly be cooler than that?
Well, come Saturday, we were all just rabid to become full-fledged warriors at the big ceremony. As it got dark, we all gathered at the meeting area, practically humming with excitement. Then, to our dismay, out walked little Mr. Lewis, the skinny camp director, in this ratty old Indian headdress. Mr. Lewis puts on his reading glasses and starts reciting from a spiral-bound notebook, telling us some homemade legend of an Indian brave who started his own tribe. All the while, four counselors are back behind him, trying in vain to light this damp bonfire. One even dumped a can of charcoal lighter fluid on it, but the matches only sputtered in the puddles and went out. Then, after about 20 minutes of standing around, Mr. Lewis just went around and tapped us each on the shoulder with an archery arrow.
That was it. No incantations, no bloodletting, no fire for the High Chief in the Sky, nothing. All that cool build-up, all that excitement and anticipation, and for what? Some sputtering matches and a tap on the shoulder.
You know, the same feeling came over me as I walked out of Mission: Impossible 2 this afternoon. Instead of Mr. Lewis letting me down, it was Mr. Woo and Mr. Cruise that dropped me on my butt.
For the second go-round on the M:I train, Cruise returns as Ethan Hunt, agent extraordinaire. He gets called in from a rock-climbing expedition (yes, I know) to go to Spain to recruit jewel thief Nyah Hall, played by Thandie Newton (Beloved), to join up with the M:I team. See, there's this rogue agent named Sean Ambrose (Dougray Scott of Ever After) who's swiped a major-league biological weapon known as "Chimera," and Ambrose and his team are going to extort $30 billion in stock (apparently, cash is no good anymore..!) from the pharmaceutical company that invented Chimera. But, Nyah used to do the nasty with Ambrose, so Hunt can use her to get inside Ambrose's operation.
It's not as convoluted as the first M:I was, but....
Now, people, I was all gassed up for this thing, mainly because of the inclusion of Hong Kong master director John Woo. Then I found out that another legend, Robert Towne, had written the script. Robert Towne! The man that wrote Chinatown! And contributed to Bonnie and Clyde and The Godfather! That Towne!? And John Woo directing? This set-up is just too good to bottom out! But as the saying goes, if something looks too good to be true, it probably is.
So, what in the name of Peter Graves went so bass-ackwards here, folks?
This movie is a flippin' joke! Oh, yes, it has lots of high-dollar explosions and supposedly tense situations, making for the "perfect action film." But it has absolutely nothing in the way of substance? NOTHING! This thing's as empty as a pony keg at a fraternity convention. Cruise spends the entire film alternating between his Risky Business grin and his Rain Man arrogance, with an occasional furrowed brow from The Firm thrown in for kicks. I cannot believe that this is the same Tom Cruise that was nominated for an Oscar® for the riveting performance he gave in Magnolia. This doesn't even seem like the same person. The actor in Magnolia was layered and rich, hard on the surface, but with so much conflicted emotion inside it was almost galvanizing to watch the character unfold. This Tom Cruise is a cardboard cut-out with better hair. If Magnolia was Cruise's big step up the acting ladder, then M:I2 is his hard fall back to the ground.
Thandie Newton, beautiful as she may be, is there only for Bond-Girl appeal. She does little more than look nice. Anthony Hopkins makes a guest appearance as Hunt's new boss, and even he looks like he'd rather be having his eyes gouged out with a plastic "spork" from KFC. Dougray Scott is the only one that brings any depth to his character. And it's incredibly sad that this is the film that kept Scott from playing Wolverine in the soon-to-be-released X-Men.
And, what unholy influence has taken the bite out of John Woo's work since he settled in as an American film director? Is he required to dumb-down his directing as a requirement of his work visa? His Hong Kong action movies had a flair and style that were truly mind-boggling. He was doing masterful things with cameras and stunts and action scenes that could redefine the genre over here. So, he comes to Hollywood, shows a hint of his true colors in Face/Off, and then promptly falls into Bruckheimer Syndrome? Motorcycle chases and 18-wheeler explosions are fine, but suddenly, the stylization has become a mass of jump-cuts and slow-motion edits, and they become meaningless.
But most of all, I don't know what to say about Robert Towne. The man has been held up as the textbook screenwriter. This is some strange "Star Trek" episode, though, where the real Robert Towne has been replaced with some Bizarro-World version. The attention to detail, the slow and careful doling out of vital information, the characterization, none of that is here. We get a script so full of holes you could strain spaghetti with it. Instead of colorful nuance and sly exposition, he slathers on heap after heap of meaningless drivel that only slows the pace and makes us look at our watches. Oh, and Robert? That idea of using a latex mask to hide one's identity? That works once as a nice little shocker, something to stun the audience. But a jillion times in one movie? Good gawd, Bob! In this flick you use the rubber mask gimmick more than every episode of "Scooby Doo" combined.
To say I was disappointed in this film is an understatement. Better to say I was appalled that after all this build-up, after all the hype and talk and magazine covers, the movie turns out to be this much of a mishmash of screwy effects and amazingly dull action sequences. I never thought I'd say this, but, I honestly hope that someone from Paramount meddled with this film. I hope some Suit somewhere decided to change everything and re-edit it and cut out parts and add others. I hope this because, well, I'd rather have some corporate drone to blame than point to Woo, Towne, or Cruise. I just refuse to believe that these talented men thought this was the best final product possible.
If you're Jonesin' for an action fix, M:I 2 may tide you over 'til X-Men and The Patriot come out. If you need a Tom Cruise fix, and are only looking for eye candy, then this is also for you. If, on the other hand, you're looking for a tight, structured action film with plot twists and stunts and all that, grab a treasure map and keep on looking. We all got fooled here. There may have been a lot of High Chiefs building this bonfire, but the final product is just a disappointing tap on the shoulder.
Image copyright Paramount Pictures.
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