It’s tempting to shrug off the Mission: Impossible films as also-ran ersatz Bond flicks, but by this point they’re something more. The long-running series — the first Cruise one was in 1996! — has in recent years carved out its own niche.
Real stunts, minimal CGI, imaginative action; a particularly over-the-top plot, some everyman humor, and vibrant, vivid, exuberant set pieces. It’s its own thing, really. It’s everything, turned up to eleven.
That all this is driven in chief by the deep-draw Xenu-delirium of its titular dude concerns me not a bit. Cruise does his own stunts, my flock, and It Is Good.
All that said, this outing does hew awfully close to the Bond line. Some London. Some decidedly Living Daylights-type action. A show-stopping British agent who’s my new favorite face.
But French-farce plot be damned: I could watch this stuff all night. Show me beauty and shiny and speed and cut it well and who cares if your star is a nutter or the movie doesn’t make much sense. This is some downright entertaining poop. I loved this. See it.
This message will self-destruct in five seconds, which is about three more than it took to write.
Haus Verdict: A total blast. From what is now a long-toothed franchise in its own right, some really top-shelf summer entertainment.
Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation opens everywhere tomorrow, July 31.
Love it: “This is some downright entertaining poop.”