Mission: Impossible 3

For those with more than a casual interest in film and television, two questions matter most about Mission Impossible 3. The first question is "Can Tom Cruise shed enough of his increasingly bizarre public persona to deliver the grand escapist entertainment we've come to expect from this franchise." The other question, the more important question for me, is "Can J.J. Abrams, the mastermind behind Alias and Lost leave as strong an imprint on the big screen as he has on the small screen?"

The answer to the first question is well enough. The film moves so fast, starting en media res with one of the better opening teasers I've seen on film (Abrams used it repeatedly on Alias) that establishes much higher stakes for Cruise's Ethan Hunt than he's had before. He's fallen in love with a sweet girl named Julia (Michelle Monaghan), an adorable nurse with brown hair and big doe eyes (remind you of anyone) who thinks Ethan studies traffic patterns for a living. As long as either Ethan or Julia are in peril, Cruise is terrific. One thing you can't criticize Cruise for is laziness; he jumps and falls and shoots his way through the action scenes with a physical gusto lightened of the vanity that many action stars bring with them. "If I'm cut make sure its a sexy cut. If I fall make sure its a sexy fall." None of that for Cruise. He gets tossed around by jets, parachutes, and even Philip Seymour Hoffman, with more concern for realism than posturing.

Ethan Hunt only starts to dissolve into gossip-magnet Tom Cruise during Hunt's engagement party, when he has to mingle with his fiancee's friends. We start to see glimmers of that slightly psychotic grin and maniacal laughter, but in all honesty this scene is brief enough that it's actually kind of amusing, especially with Mini-Kat Monaghan as Cruise's love interest. But we don't linger in the domesticated world long enough for the illusion to crumble completely. A phone call from IMF spoils the party and we're off to the races.

Apparently Hunt is no longer a field agent, but serves IMF by training new agents. As Ethan celebrates his engagement to Julia, he gets a call telling him that his first trainee Lindsey Ferris (Keri Russell) went off the grid. Suddenly, Hunt is back in action and knee deep in a conspiracy involving nasty gun runner, Owen Davian (Philip Seymour Hoffman), and something called The Rabbit's Foot.

So, with the story set up, we must now confront question number two: How does Abrams do?

The answer is poor.

Awful.

Mediocre at best.

Oh, who am I kidding? J.J. Abrams has made a slick, confident feature debut that will likely steal another of my favorite writers away from serial television. First Joss. Now J.J. Well, at least Aaron Sorkin is coming back; TV has managed to keep its hooks in him.

But back to Abrams and Mission Impossible. It's everything you could want from a summer blockbuster. Its not quite on the level of last years Batman Begins, but I enjoyed it a great deal more than any other offering from last year's peak season. I can only hope the rest of the summer continues in this vein.

Abrams and Co. keep the film moving through its labyrinthine (but decipherable) plot at a fantastic clip. Not including the great pacing, two things really stuck out for me about Abrams handling of the film.

First, the tired quick-cut, mish-mash, ultra close-up style that action hacks like Michael Bay have dumped on movie-goers since the 90s is largely absent here. There's not a single sequence where we have to stop and ask wtf is going on. Not only does Abrams keep his cuts reasonable, but he also makes liberal use of wideshots and medium-shots -- two compositions all but lost on today's action filmmakers. The scene on the bridge (the one from all the ads) is one of my favorite action scenes in a long while and it's all because Abrams pulls back and lets us see everything. It was probably expensive to work that way, but I much prefer it to the visual mush we usually get.

I was also relieved to see the action scenes pulled off with a bare minimum of coyness. Too often action films like to wink at us in the gravest of situations; Bad Boys II comes to mind. The entire world is crumbling, but there's always time for a snappy one-liner. M:I:3 doesn't go for that. It keeps things serious, keeps things real, and it adds a certain layer of suspense and danger that we lose when characters don't take their predicaments seriously.

And nobody takes things more seriously than the franchise's best villain so far, Owen Davian. Holy s--t was he fun to watch. Hoffman plays the role with such a grave nastiness you might think he's in the wrong movie. Everybody has seen his threats to Hunt at the beginning of the films trailer:

"You got a wife? Girlfriend? I'm gonna hurt her. I'm gonna make her bleed. And then I'm going to kill you in front of her."

Well, what you wont get from the trailers is that Davian is actually in IMF custody when this conversation takes place. This is supposed to be Hunt interrogating Davian. But Davian works such a swift and savvy mindf--k on our hero that Hunt absolutely loses control. This was a perfect chance for some moustache-twirling, but instead Hoffman gives this sadistic soliloquy with a mix of irritation and ennui that would be laughable if it wasn't so disturbing. He plays it like he's pissed that he's held up in traffic, even as he's talking about torturing Hunt's lover. Hoffman's choices here are totally unconventional for a summer movie villain, and the movie is all the better for it.

All in all, M:I:3 is exactly what you'd expect from summer entertainment -- thrilling action, breakneck pace -- but both Abrams and Hoffman spiced up what could have been a standard meal of fast cars and big explosions with enough style and wit to send me home a little more satisfied than I might have expected. Great start to the summer.

Final Grade for Mission: Impossible 3 -- B +