REVIEW COLLECTION: “Mission: Impossible” -- Part 1: Standalone "Episodes"

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Mission: Impossible (1996, dir. Brian De Palma) 

By the mid-1990s, the action film genre had literally reached new, explosive heights. Michael Bay had directed two hit movies by then. Independence Day would become one of the biggest summer blockbusters of all-time. Stars like Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sylvester Stallone, and Bruce Willis would still do their thing, more or less. (Remember the Planet Hollywood restaurant chain?) And then there was Tom Cruise. Already an established screen presence since the early-1980s (thanks, partly, to Top Gun), the actor’s career went further into the stratosphere with this feature-length adaptation of Bruce Geller’s ever-popular spy series from the 1960s. 

Directed by cinematic provocateur Brian De Palma and featuring a score by Danny Elfman that updates Lalo Schifrin’s iconic theme music (not to mention an awesome, more modern variation as well), the episodic Mission: Impossible marked Cruise’s first credit as a film producer (alongside frequent collaborator Paula Wagner), in addition to headlining as Impossible Mission Force (IMF) agent Ethan Hunt, whose initial team gets assigned to find and retrieve a disk with names of numerous agents within the organization. That is, until a compromised operation frames Hunt, leading him on a suspenseful new objective to find out who’s really behind all this. And to retrieve that disk. 

At the time, this preliminary franchise starter (which outgrossed another TV-to-movie adaptation, The Flintstones) was criticized for its convoluted plot and a complicated narrative, while its characterizations and overall tone polarized viewers. To be fair, this is the kind of escapist popcorn entertainment that requires you to leave all logic at the door and just go with it. Like De Palma’s filmmaking style and framing, it’s dynamic and intense. It also feels cold and grim. Even original series cast members, like Peter Graves and Martin Landau, would disown De Palma’s film, particularly the interpretation of director Jim Phelps (played by screen veteran Jon Voight). Then there’s the fact that De Palma and company pulled an Alfred Hitchcock/Psycho move in the first 30 minutes, regarding certain characters who meet shocking and chilling ends, leaving Hunt mostly on his own. 

Still, there are noteworthy and iconic moments in this 1996 tentpole, including a Prague restaurant interrogation that involves a dynamite stick of gum (“You’ve never seen me very upset”), and an exhilarating, climactic speeding train sequence, complete with an explosive sound design. And let’s not forget the presence and gravitas of a brilliant supporting cast, including Ving Rhames (as disavowed computer hacker Luther Stickell), Jean Reno (as French agent Krieger), and Vanessa Redgrave (as arms dealer Max). The visual effects and technology, from face reveals to computer boxes and floppy disks, may be dated, but they are nostalgic, nonetheless. (Twister came out this same year.) 

But if there’s one scene and image that encapsulates this movie, it would undoubtedly be Cruise dangling from the ceiling of a secret vault within CIA Headquarters to retrieve the aforementioned disc. (“It’s much worse than you think. . . . But we’re going to do it.”) With Stanley Kubrick-inspired staging and symmetry a la 2001: A Space Odyssey, the lack of score makes this sequence all the more jaw-dropping and gripping. It’s a masterclass in filmmaking and suspense. And a precursor to the crazier stunts that Cruise would subsequently get himself into and out of. Just watch yourself, should you choose to accept this particular mission, as outlandish as it is. 

Mission: Impossible II (2000, dir. John Woo) 

Tom Cruise returns as highly skilled IMF agent Ethan Hunt, whose assignment this time around involves a deadly, genetically modified virus that kills its hosts after 20 hours of exposure or injection, as well as a cure for it. There’s also an old partner-turned-rogue enemy (a menacing Dougray Scott), pharmaceutical negotiations, and a beautiful expert thief (a strong-willed Thandie Newton) at the center of a formidable love triangle. 

Right off the bat, Mission: Impossible II is the most overly stylized installment in this film series. It gets lost in bombastic action, speed, adrenaline, and excessive coolness and sexiness (including a one-night stand) that has more in common with action movies from the 1990s (including Pierce Brosnan’s James Bond flicks) than with its 1960s predecessor. Even its viral plot device is similar to Michael Bay’s 1996 sophomoric tentpole The Rock. 

This 2000 flick has its moments, including an opening rock-climbing sequence where Cruise steps up from the crazy stunts he did the first time around. He even recreates that famous dangling bit (and silent execution) from the first movie later on, to great effect. It’s also terrific seeing Anthony Hopkins (uncredited as Mission Commander Swanbeck, who assigns Ethan’s mission via sunglasses in a rocket launcher) and Ving Rhames (back as expert computer hacker Luther Stickell). This blockbuster hit also features an awesome rock cover of Lalo Schifrin’s iconic score, with a main track (“Take A Look Around”) by metal rap group Limp Bizkit (arguably one of the few exceptional things they ever did as a band). And speaking of music, this marked the first time that rock band Metallica ever wrote a song for a feature film. 

But there are also many convoluted elements involving face mask reveals, confusing double crosses, cliched elements of greedy corporations, and sequences that defy the laws of gravity and physics, including an explosive and all-out climax that feels like it never stops—even with one character’s surprising choice that elevates this narrative’s stakes, both physically and emotionally. Then again, this being a John Woo picture (the same man who brought us The Killer and Face/Off), it bears his trademarks of balletic action and mayhem, as well as romanticism, melodrama, and slow-motion shots. And pigeons. Lots of pigeons. And we shouldn’t overlook some disturbing imagery related to the effects of the aforementioned virus, as well as a cringy moment involving a cigar clipper, a knife inches from Hunt’s eye socket, a plane crash sequence that predates 9/11 (difficult in retrospect), suicidal references, and harsh profanities. 

It is fascinating how Robert Towne’s screenplay incorporates and references Greek mythology, including the roles of heroes and villains. It’s also pretty impressive listening to the stunt team on the DVD bonus features, not to mention the facts behind Woo’s distinct visual style and influences from westerns to medieval epics. Still, this Mission hasn’t aged well, what with its product placement (i.e., Motorola cell phones) and Cruise’s haircut. Composer Hans Zimmer even used similar themes in his score for Ridley Scott’s Gladiator that same year. Ang Lee’s Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (also a 2000 flick) fairs much better. 

Mission: Impossible III (2006, dir. J.J. Abrams) 

It’s been a while since IMF agent Ethan Hunt has been in the field. He’s resorted to training younger agents, and is preparing to settle into a normal life with a beautiful fiancé (Michelle Monaghan). One day, he is unexpectedly called back into action to find and rescue a fellow agent (Keri Russell) gone missing, and a secret message she made just for him. This leads Ethan and his team on an assignment to the Vatican in Rome, to kidnap a black-market dealer and find a mysterious device that he’s planning to sell. But this being Mission: Impossible, things are never that simple. Soon, Ethan’s significant other is in danger, and he becomes a man on the run—and Cruise is known for his screen running—from his own agency in a race against the clock to save her. 

Mission: Impossible III marked the feature film directorial debut of J.J. Abrams, whom Cruise personally recommended after seeing his work on the TV series Alias. (Abrams and screenwriters Alex Kurtzman & Roberto Orci would successfully reboot Star Trek three years later, along with frequent collaborator Michael Giacchino, who brilliantly updated Lalo Schifrin’s score here.) While not the most memorable installment in this series, this 2006 chapter certainly gets back to the heart and team aspects of what this series is, despite being potentially overshadowed by Cruise’s public controversies the year before (i.e., jumping on Oprah’s couch, endorsing Scientology). 

What makes this standalone sequel distinct, on the other hand, is how psychologically intense it is, and not just visually. Explosive action, with VFX work from ILM and Abrams’ trademark lense flairs, pervade the screen, but are very grounded and visceral. The movie also benefits from strong characterizations and dynamics, including teammates Ving Rhames (back as Luther Stickell), Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Maggie Q, and even Simon Pegg (making his franchise debut as computer tech expert Benji Dunn). Ditto Laurence Fishburne’s agency director and Billy Crudup’s fellow agent. Many of these characters sure can handle weapons effectively. 

Equally effective and bruising is how the film opens, showing from the get-go how menacing and sadistic Philip Seymour Hoffman’s Owen Davian truly is. And there are similar moments (some involving torture) like that throughout, such as a plane interrogation that goes south (this is the first time Cruise and Hoffman have worked together since Magnolia), a bridge interception and collapse, and the climactic race in Shanghai. Did I mention a subplot involving miniature bombs being implanted in people’s heads, revealing some disturbing imagery? 

As arguably the first M:i movie to really tap into an emotional angle, this finds Ethan at his most vulnerable and broken, showing how professionally and personally he takes this mission. It also never forgets how skilled and determined he is, as he MacGyvers his way out of numerous situations. (I do wonder if you can actually lock-pick a set of handcuffs with a ballpoint pen.) This marked the final collaboration between Cruise and producing partner Paula Wagner, as well as with Paramount for the time being, leaving these cinematic Missions accomplished. So it seemed . . . 

Mission: Impossible—Ghost Protocol (2011, dir. Brad Bird) 

After spending roughly half a decade co-running a revived film studio (United Artists) while delivering performances in a few historical dramas—and an unrecognizable, foul-mouthed turn in a raunchy meta comedy—Tom Cruise stepped back into the shoes of Ethan Hunt in a fourth Mission: Impossible that apparently nobody asked for. But 2011’s Ghost Protocol ended up revitalizing the series in a spectacular, more grounded fashion, offering a fresh take on genre tropes that felt both retro and contemporary. In other words, this is where the film series really got good. 

Just as he recommended J.J. Abrams for the last movie, Cruise put in a good word for Pixar veteran Brad Bird, who made his live-action directorial debut here. (Cruise had reportedly been impressed with Bird’s work on The Incredibles and Ratatouille.) The director’s trademark throwbacks to the 1960s in his previous films turned out to be a great fit for Mission: Impossible. Ditto a brilliant and fresh score by returning composer (and fellow frequent collaborator) Michael Giacchino, and a gripping sound design. 

Following an exhilarating opening sequence where Ethan and a Russian inmate are broken out of a Moscow prison (set to Dean Martin music) before breaking into the Kremlin (recalling the quiet intensity from the vault sequence in the 1996 original), the IMF is disavowed after Hunt and his team are framed for an unexpected catastrophe. Subplots involving an assassinated field agent, a secret file of launch codes, a Russian officer who blames Ethan and his team for terrorism, and an antagonist bent on nuclear war, create subtle tensions between the U.S. and Russia, as well as the titular initiation that leaves Ethan (in an iconic black hoodie here) and his remaining team members on the run. It’s a narrative that fleshes out Kittridge’s line from the first movie—about IMF agents “trained to be ghosts”—while taking unpredictable detours (thanks, partially, to some malfunctioning gadgets) that put viewers on pins and needles but are nevertheless thoroughly investing. 

The one sequence that Ghost Protocol is most remembered for is Cruise literally climbing the tallest building in the world: the Burj Khalifa in Dubai, India. Story-wise, this is where Hunt and company attempt to intersect a sale of the aforementioned launch codes and have to connect to the server room “from the outside.” Hence, the climb. ("Blue is glue, red is dead.") Shot with IMAX cameras, this sequence creates a genuine sense of vertigo, depth, and gripping thrills. It’s part of the reason this movie ranks as arguably the most entertaining in the series. The term “fun,” on the other hand, shouldn’t apply to other more intense, even hard-hitting and/or bloody, moments, including a landmark bombing and a maze through a complex car lot. 

More than anything, this fourth entry terrifically emphasizes substance and character as much as (if not more than) its visual style and pyrotechnics. Not to mention its high-wire stunts and impressive array of tactile gadgets and weapons. It benefits from committed and layered performances by Jeremy Renner (as analyst Brandt), Paula Patton (as field agent Carter), and Simon Pegg (returning as computer wiz Benji), some of them carrying guilt from previous failed missions. Even the late Tom Wilkinson makes the most of his brief appearance as the IMF secretary. This really works as an ensemble team piece, and not so much Cruise as a one-man army. "We were unprepared, in the dark, disavowed," Ethan tells us, "But the only thing that functioned properly was this team." Now that’s how you mark a fresh and new high for a series moving forward. Stay tuned, should you choose to accept . . .