Mission: Impossible - The Final Reckoning (2025)

Score: 4 / 5

When I walked out of the screening of The Final Reckoning -- intended to be the end of the Mission: Impossible franchise -- the cinema owner asked me my opinion, and all I had to say was, "Wow. That was a lot of movie."

As a standalone film, which it patently is not, it simply doesn't work. There are far too many flashbacks and callbacks in the first hour to previous entries that it feels like a televised recap before the series finale. Repetitive and condescending, the screenplay pauses in nearly every scene to describe explicitly what just happened, what's currently happening, and why it matters to the audience; it may be the talkiest action film ever made. And it's all deeply concerned with its own pretense, conceitedly pointing out the stakes at each turn and reminding us why Ethan Hunt and his impossible missions have, for over a generation now, enraptured audiences and encapsulated the art of filmmaking through the decades.

And it's for that reason that the film works wonderfully as a climax to the impossible missions of Hunt and of Tom Cruise himself. Not only does it ramp up the action to freshly imagined impossibilities for Hunt to endure, testing him beyond anything he's previously faced; The Final Reckoning reads like a swan song for Cruise, who is gifted with not only superhuman action prowess but a certain control over the visual language of the film. Despite his ghastly hairstyle in this film, he graces the screen with the surety and suavity he's mastered as an iconic brand his whole life. As a creative (and financial) power behind the scenes, one wonders at a few moments that exemplify his control over his own projects: during one of the most literally breathless sequences in the series, Hunt turns a submarine's wheel to devastating effect and the film's aspect ratio shifts from widescreen to IMAX. It's the kind of subtle flair Ang Lee tossed into Life of Pi, among other examples, and it makes the vision pop from our eyes to our whole being. I felt like my seat was vibrating in the screening; maybe it was me, maybe it was because I wasn't inhaling enough.

While the specifics of the villainous AI known as The Entity aren't all that clear -- be sure to rewatch (the retrospectively poorly-named) Dead Reckoning Part One for slightly better comprehension -- the point of this film is less topical and more mythological than its predecessor. Hunt is figured here as the savior of the world without much doubt or concession. President Sloane (Angela Bassett, gloriously returning) begs him, two months after Hunt retrieved the cruciform key to the Entity's source code, to save the world as the AI takes over various countries' governmental operations and nuclear weaponry; he accepts after demanding, essentially, carte blanche and whatever he deems necessary, including a warship in the Pacific. I chuckled as often as I gasped in this movie because, really, what else can you do with such material?

Unlike our ongoing onslaught of superhero films, Mission: Impossible always grounds its impracticalities and unlikelihoods with amazing effects and stunts, which is why I'd generally prefer these films to other action franchises. Cruise here astonishes with his endless running, jumping, running, swimming, running, falling, and more running, and his climactic chase on and around biplanes is exactly as thrilling as it should be. Under Christopher McQuarrie's now-masterful direction of the last few entries, this film smartly balances its extended action sequences with meaningful melodrama via its enormous cast of A-list stars, including returners Ving Rhames (who gets a fabulously emotional send-off), Simon Pegg, Hayley Atwell (whose romantic purpose feels both underbaked and underserved here), Janet McTeer, Holt McCallany, Henry Czerny, Nick Offerman, Angela Bassett, Hannah Waddingham, Shea Wigham, and more. Esai Morales returns as the human face of villainy, though he has little to do and is as grating as Christoph Waltz in his Bond film, and Pom Kelementieff, who is thankfully less awkward in this picture than the last. And for its three-hour runtime, they all admirably step up to the plate in this final outing, making the time fly by.

McQuarrie and his co-writer don't inject much humor into this film, and while it does feel tonally more somber and apocalyptic than these movies usually do, it pays off in sentimental and nostalgic dividends. They know this is all ridiculous, and they know that's why we've loved it for so long, so they don't cheapen the experience one iota. Its seriousness might put off some fans, but I think the franchise deserves its eye-popping, breathtaking finale to take itself more seriously than usual. After all, it's a much different world than when Hunt accepted his first mission. I'd be interested to see the almost-six-hour full cut of the Dead Reckoning film altogether, because I think that would help the pacing and spectacle considerably; much like the final two Harry Potter films, the buildup and payoff work better continuously rather than separated. But I cannot deny that this is the most-movie movie I've seen in cinemas in years. 

Damsel (2024)

Score: 1.5 / 5

What in the made-for-television hooey is this? The era of exciting feminist reclamation sorely missteps with Damsel, a bizarre attempt at a twisted typical fantasy trope. Opening narration spoils the whole thing, letting us know explicitly that there will be a damsel, she'll be in distress, and she'll be rescuing herself, thank you very much. But the overwrought and annoyingly vague story, here, makes this entire exercise less an empowering cinematic experience than a mildly diverting bedtime story that could have been written on any free fanfiction website. Worse, it's far less than the sum of its parts, a glaring problem that constantly reminds us of its own inadequacies.

Titular protagonist Elodie, played by Millie Bobby Brown (who really should take some acting classes to branch out of her Winona Ryder-esque range of moody adolescent indignation), accepts an invitation to marry the prince of a faraway land called Aurea. Seemingly doing so to help her impoverished, unnamed snowy home -- where they sell drapes for food, a plot hole I will never understand -- Elodie and her family travel to the warmer, wealthier Aurea; her father (Ray Winstone) and mother (Angela Bassett) are woefully wasted characters who serve no real purpose, while Elodie's younger sister Floria (Brooke Carter) will prove the damsel in distress in the film's long-coming second act. Upon their arrival, Elodie and her betrothed charming Prince Henry (a clearly bored Nick Robinson) are cool towards each other, though they soon enough warm to the idea. Meanwhile, his mother, Queen Isabelle (a reliably icy Robin Wright) outright rejects the friendship of her new in-laws under the guise of matriarchal rule.

While the production design and wardrobe feel like a feast for the eyes, it also feels unmoored and uninspired throughout the film. Dodgy CGI and green screen settings are the name of the game in this fantasy romp, and multiple times this film felt visually like it belonged in television shows from the last decade (I thought of Once Upon a Time and Merlin, among others, more than once). That's not necessarily a bad thing, but for a film like this to be taken at all seriously -- which it patently desperately desires -- you can't have this cartoonish quality framing your action or drama. Director Juan Carols Fresnadillo (whose filmography is interesting but wildly unfit for this kind of project) doesn't seem to have purposeful understanding of how to present this material to any audience, let alone the Netflix crowd. Even thematically, the film makes far more suggestions than it ever satisfies: early, as Elodie is being fitted into her bridal gown, it's not a Cinderella moment of rags-to-glam, but this intriguing divergence from expectations is never explored beyond her own eventual gumption in fighting back.

The film dramatically shifts when, during a weird post-marital ceremony on a stone bridge above a cavernous abyss, the two newlyweds share their blood (it's not sex, unless you read a LOT into Grimms' fairytales) and Henry casts Elodie into the pit. She's the latest in a long string of female victims sacrificed to an enormous dragon in the cave for, apparently, centuries: an ancestral king of Aurea killed the dragon's babies and so the dragon seeks eternal recompense in the form of virginal descendants of his line in return for not destroying the kingdom. Despite this elaborate and unnecessary setup (there is a prologue of sorts that dramatizes this inciting incident, revisited by flashbacks anon), the film does not teeter further into fantasy at this point, rather engaging its action sensibilities as Elodie runs and ducks and hides in the labyrinthine caverns while being stalked by the dragon.

The dragon itself is well-designed and mostly well-animated, voiced with breathtaking skill by Shohreh Aghdashloo, whose smokey resonance gravelly brings the beast to life. She's not to be trifled with, and her predatory menace is the only thing that makes this film worth watching. Oddly, the film is structured in such a way that, once the monarchy's ruse is revealed, we are made to feel sorry for the dragon, a bizarre sensation that never amounts to much. Attempting to distract from the dragon is Elodie, though, tearing her dress apart to fashion tools and weapons while looking suspiciously stylish in a tattered sort of way. Her antics lead her to a wall of names of previous (deceased) princesses, who clearly had time and energy to sign their Jane Hancocks for no apparent reason; she also discovers a cave of glowing worms who light her path and also heal her wounds. Because nothing says incompetent screenwriting like multiple deus ex machinas less than halfway through your story! Not to mention the entire premise, which simply does not follow: the king of old killed three dragon eggs, but the dragon has now killed dozens (if not hundreds) of maidens?

For most of its middle section, the film grinds on more like a video game, as Elodie works and tries and fails and tries again to escape the cave, defeat the dragon, retain her health, etc. She is grimly determined and badass in the manner of a Tomb Raider type character who is neither prepared nor trained for this, making the whole thing increasingly unbelievable and utterly devoid of stakes. Other characters start popping into the cave, which allows more action and death at the cost of further absurdity and narrative gimmicks. Add to all that the finale's tired final message of sisterhood above all and healing the enemy to foster alliance, and the whole house of cards comes tumbling down. A reasonably competent film -- even one as far-fetched and often outright laughable as this -- can't always overcome a story without enough inspiration, craft, or nerve to follow through on any of its potential intrigues (mind you, this was penned by Dan Mazeau, whose only other feature writing credits are the criminally badly written Wrath of the Titans and Fast X), and this one simply tries too hard to be something it never takes the effort to define for itself.

P.S.: Since simply bashing isn't as helpful or thoughtful as I try to be, I'll note as a final thought my idea for a better film. Reformat the story as a medieval horror film, shot on location in a crumbling Carpathian castle. Increase the "weird fantasy" elements -- a la Gretel & Hansel but with more gritty action -- and dress it all with creepy, dark Gothic style a la The Castle of Otranto, considering the adolescent sexuality and bloodsharing and political angling inherent in its conceit. We wouldn't have even needed a dragon; use Aghdashloo's presence as a witch or spirit of the forest or even a stupid cave, a presence of malice playing with young girls swept into this world they don't know or understand their own significance in. Rewrite it as a real feminist existential horror story so that Elodie coming into her own to burn down the monarchy (literally) actually feels earned. That way, too, its derivative basis (clearly meant to be something like Andromeda being fed to the Kraken) would be sidestepped and it could actually be a novel piece. Hell, even a Gothic thriller about a queen trying manipulate three girls into marrying her son at the same time to satiate a monster or curse or bloodthirsty mob would have been more interesting than anything Damsel has to offer.

Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (2022)

Score: 4.5 / 5

Wakanda forever! The much-anticipated and long-awaited sequel to Black Panther is bigger in almost every way, and some may find that a fault. It's long and thoroughly exhausting in its epic scope, expansive narrative, and heavy themes. The film opens with the death of King T'Challa (the late Chadwick Boseman, who is seen often in still images but thankfully not recreated digitally), who had an illness his sister Shuri (Letitia Wright) believed could have been cured by a special herb previously burned by Erik Killmonger. It's perhaps the best way to honor both Boseman and the characters (including Killmonger) given what was surely an extensive rewriting process after Boseman's untimely and unexpected death. The funeral sequence features perhaps the best display of costuming and editing yet in the franchise, as Shuri and Queen Ramonda (Angela Bassett), dressed in stark white, follow the coffin as Wakandan dancers and singers mourn and celebrate in slow-motion. My eyes were leaking so much at this point it was difficult to accept that, after the MCU logo appeared, we skipped ahead a full year.

Wakanda has had to become a defender of its valuable resource of vibranium from other world powers, to the point of almost closing itself off from the outside world again. When the US develops a vibranium-detecting machine and searches the oceans with it, the expedition is attacked and killed while suspicion immediately falling on the Wakandans. But this film doesn't really show too much of the geopolitics going on (because, you know, superhero movies generally don't go there), adding instead a new villain to the mix. Enter Namor (a hunky Tenoch Huerta Mejia), who rises from the waters of Wakanda to confront Queen Ramonda and Shuri in a private meeting. He has bypassed the extensive security of the kingdom, apparently breathes underwater, and sports wings on his ankles. Whereas comics originally featured the character as an Atlantean prince, here he is K'uk'ulkan, king of Talokan, an underwater realm of what used to be Mayans.

Clearly there are a lot of ideas in this film, very few of which would seem (at face value) to hearken back to the first magnificent Black Panther. A new secret kingdom? More extraordinary warriors and tech? Brown people fighting Black people over material resources hunted by white Westerners? But in the eminently capable and sensitive hands of Ryan Coogler and co-writer Joe Robert Cole (American Crime Story: The People v. OJ Simpson), these new and potentially disparate elements coalesce into a complex and fascinating knot of plot points. I mean that in the best way, because they also carry us through some of the most dynamic character development in any MCU theatrical releases to date. Shuri is taken to Talokan to learn from Namor the reality of that kingdom's existence and the crucial matter of its secret vibranium cache. He wants to forge an alliance with Wakanda to protect the resource and their kingdoms from the rest of the world, but he threatens to destroy Wakanda if they do not agree.

White colonists are definitely the cause for conflict in this film, but they aren't the villains. Namor, as the antagonist, comes close to being villainous, but much like with Killmonger, it doesn't feel right to call him that, even when he kills a certain someone (and I'll never forgive him for it). Similarly, while the Talokan warriors are pretty unnerving to behold with their blue skin, they aren't cruel or malicious either. If anything, it's the demand for such a precious resource that is the real villain of the film. It makes everyone do crazy things, even if they seem rational in the moment. Coogler is exceptionally good at making each character's motivations clear and reasonable, and he empowers his actors to give the best of themselves in every frame.

That's not to say the movie isn't a little over-stuffed, much like many complained about Wonder Woman 1984 or some of the Avengers and Spider-Man movies. It's got a huge cast of characters, including a hilarious and eye-opening subplot with Martin Freeman's CIA agent Everett Ross and Julia Louis-Dreyfus's new CIA boss and woman of mystery Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, who are revealed to be ex-spouses. It sets up Dominique Thorne as Riri Williams, an MIT student who invented the vibranium detector, who has built herself a unique Iron Man-type suit; we know she will be starring in the upcoming series Ironheart. It locates a new Black Panther, and without spoiling too much, Shuri is a pretty excellent choice. Do I wish Ramonda had taken up the mantle? Sure, who doesn't, but Shuri's journey -- especially by the climax when she revives a heart-shaped herb and travels to the ancestral astral plane to meet with a certain ancestor who made me jump with excitement -- is more than well-earned. But the numerous plots and characters is certainly daunting, even for tried-and-true fans.

Thankfully, Coogler is up to more than just franchise fan service. Apart from tying strands of this story to the MCU generally, he establishes (like Taika Waititi has done in this series) a unique tone to Wakanda Forever, setting it apart as one of the few movies period to embrace the theme of righteous anger and outrage, specifically for people of color. Bassett, in one of her first scenes, chastises the UN for their entitled expectations regarding her resources, and she's glorious in every breath. Shuri, Ramonda, and Namor each try to navigate stages of grief, and in that way the film also embraces their sorrows. It's really tricky to pull off such emotionally wrought characters in any film, but to do it with so many in a franchise film is astonishing. I wish there weren't quite so much happening so the film could breathe a bit more and let us sit with the weighty themes. Then again, taking anything out of this film would do it a cruel disservice. Plus, it gave us Lupita Nyong'o again and Danai Gurira in all their respective glory, and I will never be mad about that.

Wendell & Wild (2022)

Score: 4 / 5

Henry Selick returns to his directorial chair for the first time in thirteen years, and it's another visually stunning, creatively intoxicating, and generally overwhelming adventure. His amazing stop-motion animation style is a genre unto itself, to say nothing of his dark and uncanny aesthetic. This time, it's an exclusive streaming release on Netflix during spooky season, the most appropriate choice for this dark and strange story. It feels much like A Nightmare Before Christmas and a bit like James and the Giant Peach, but this film embraces a slightly more surreal style than even Coraline (Selick's last directorial feature). Perhaps its ingenuity and freshness are due to co-writer and producer (and voice actor) Jordan Peele, who is quickly becoming a top-tier horror auteur like Tim Burton always seemed hopeful of being.

Kat (Lyric Ross) is a young Black girl who was orphaned at a young age after her father accidentally drove off a bridge. She blames herself for the accident that killed her parents, and now she's a punk-rock juvenile delinquent in an all-girls Catholic school run by a kindly but mysterious nun named Helley (Angela Bassett). Her only friend is Raul (Sam Zelaya), a trans boy, whose mother helps reveal the film's main conflict to Kat: a private prison company called Klaxon Korp is taking over their town, Rust Bank, and pressuring the school's head, Father Best (James Hong) to give up the property. The Klaxons have a daughter, Siobhan, who leads a posse of preppy kids at the school to antagonize the outcasts, much like Draco Malfoy did. It's a surprising choice for a film like this to be so interested in the prison industrial complex and to paint it in such lurid ways in a kids' movie. But then, some of the best animated films work on a surface level for kids and a more cerebral level for adults; why shouldn't we expose our kids to some of the most serious, complex issues of our time through palatable, fun media?

Wendell and Wild, meanwhile, are demons who work mindless drudgery in the underworld for their father, Buffalo Belzer (Ving Rhames). "Belzer" must be a corruption of Beelzebub and he manages and operates a theme park of hell to torment lost souls, but this demonic daddy with his chest harness is easily the creepiest thing in this film, as Wendell and Wild literally live and work on his body. They sleep in his nostrils and by day work to replenish hair on his scalp with a magic serum. Wild (Peele) likes to eat the hair cream, which apparently gets him high; Wendell (Keegan-Michael Key) and he suddenly discover that the cream actually brings things back to life. When Kat spontaneously gets marked as a Hell Maiden, the demons approach her in dreams with an opportunity: if she summons them to the world of the living, they will use their cream to resurrect her parents.

It's refreshing that Kat isn't a tragic or wimpy character; in fact, she retains her independence and stubbornness and strength throughout the film. It's also refreshing that Key and Peele are so effortlessly funny in their seemingly endless banter as two dispossessed (ha ha!) brothers who are just dumb or bored enough to do something daring and dangerous. The film is smart enough, conversely, to not make Wendell and Wild the villains; Selick and Peele emphasize that those who look like traditional villains aren't too bad, whereas those with money and power are far worse when they prey on and profit off the suffering of others. It's not as clear in terms of narrative, and will surely take some explaining for younger audiences; there are other subplots, too, and off-the-cuff jokes that pile up at times a bit too much. I felt occasionally overstimulated during my own viewing and had to pause just to look at something else more than once.

But that's to say nothing of the beautiful artistry of this film, which I liked just about as much as in Nightmare and Coraline, and in some ways more than those. I repeatedly found myself wishing the film would slow down or cut a character or two just so I could take some time to appreciate the animation, the designs, the voice acting, and the implications of the story. Its kinetic energy turns frenetic early on, so much so that I think I'll need at least one additional viewing to really get a full grasp on the film. But that's kind of typical of Selick's work, as long as you have a stomach for his aesthetic.

Soul (2020)

 Score: 3.5 / 5

Perhaps the most existentially-minded of Pixar's movies, the aptly named Soul hit Disney+ during the most unusual holiday season we've ever experienced. Apart from its sense of joy and entertaining delivery, its themes of finding purpose, self-discovery, building community, and sacrificing for others hit pretty hard given the year preceding its release. It helps, too, that its protagonist is a Black man, it was co-written and co-directed by a Black man (Kemp Powers), and it features the music of a Black man (Jon Batiste). In a genre dominated by white people, produced by a company built on whiteness, and the generally white state of the industry despite recent controversies, Soul is important and cannot be easily separated from its cultural context. Unfortunately, it's also hard to overlook its debut on an exclusive streaming platform rather than in cinemas, and I'm not sure it's as racially progressive as some have touted.

The story concerns a middle school music teacher named Joe (Jamie Foxx) who dreams of making it big as a jazz pianist. When he finally gets the chance to make it big (with Angela Bassett, no less!), he suddenly falls into an open manhole and winds up comatose. His spirit manifests on an ethereal stairway leading to the Great Beyond, much to his horror. Hoping to escape his fate and return to his suddenly successful job and first legitimate gig that night, he flees, falling into a purgatorial realm called the Great Before. Journeying through this strange spiritual landscape, he meets other souls and their mentors/guardians, but one in particular leaves a stark impression. She goes by 22 (Tina Fey), and she's a cynical and bitter but bored soul, absently existing without a "spark" of purpose or interest that would allow her to travel to Earth and live among humanity. Naturally, they work together to return to life, and naturally, they have more than a few misadventures doing so.

It's a lot of fun, helped by lovely music and the sort of absurdist animated humor mastered by Pete Doctor, the credited director and co-writer, who has also helmed Monsters, Inc., Up, and Inside Out, the latter of which feels like direct inspiration for Soul. In fact, the netherworld of spirits in bright lights, ghostly Cubist mentors, and a shifting, candy-colored landscape feels more like a direct counterpart to Inside Out than anything resembling a unique aesthetic. And, like that movie, this feature frolics between entertainment and surprisingly challenging questions about the purpose of our lives, our choices and livelihoods, and the ways we get what we want (or don't) and the consequences of those choices. But it's all fairly light-hearted despite its weight, much like the soulful jazz music Joe plays. When he goes "in the zone," most artists can appreciate the sensation of satisfaction and fulfillment taken for granted by others, but beautifully dramatized here in floating spheres of the spirit world.

And while the film's emotional strengths cannot be overstated -- I openly wept in a scene where Joe confronts his mother, voiced by Phylicia Rashad, who is not supportive of his dreams to play music -- its artistry cannot be praised for novelty, and its unfortunate plot device of turning its Black protagonist into something even more Other for most of the film is all too familiar. More disturbing, Docter himself claimed to know nothing about this trope during production. By the midpoint twist of the film, which admittedly helps its pacing and purpose a lot, the duo find themselves back on Earth, but with 22 inhabiting Joe's body. Get Out, much? And then, apart from a dying Black man preparing to sacrifice himself so the white woman can go live her life on Earth (a conclusion that, thankfully, we were spared from at the last possible instant), there is the most disturbing scene in the film: when a "mentor" or whatever those Cubist spirits are, hunting Joe, mistakes another Black man for his prey and traumatizes him. All Black men are the same, am I right?

I certainly enjoyed the movie, but I suppose my criticisms stem from the disturbing tendency for people to be less than critical when a popular work starts performing its own woke-ness. Don't mistake me: its championing of jazz music as a crucial cultural tradition and touchstone is brilliant, as is one scene that takes place in a Black barbershop. Several small interactions reveal that the film, despite Big Picture issues, succeeds marvelously in centering around a lived experience beyond the usual Disney/Pixar stories of white, middle class normativity. But I must admit to being disappointed in the movie's own lack of internal logic and organization. Inside Out and Monsters, Inc. were fiercely true to their own mythologies, almost overwhelming in their creative structure and rules. But this time, even with the colors and lights, I'm not altogether sure that the various devices and images add up to a cohesive whole. The moral of this story is essentially, I suppose, "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live," but Dumbledore said the same thing several years ago, and frankly an encouragement card from Hallmark could have a similar effect. 

Soul does, however, boast Graham Norton's vocal talents, which really should have been capitalized upon a long time ago by Disney, etc. And speaking of capitalism, one brief scene has stuck with me since viewing this movie, and I think I finally understand why. While learning about "sparks" and purpose, one lost soul suddenly returns to Earth, freed of the doldrums of his office job, and exclaims in front of his co-workers that he has wasted his life working in hedge funds. It's very funny, and the sort of meta outburst we expect in these movies. But I cannot help but fear that Disney, quickly monopolizing the industry around the world -- which launched an exclusive streaming service for its own material and any products it can get its hands on, which quietly has been locking away its new 20th Century Fox titles in its terrifying "vault", which notoriously sued daycares for murals of its characters -- is playing a strange sort of poorface charade, pretending to lecture us about the moral bankruptcy of modern capitalism.

Mission: Impossible - Fallout (2018)

Score: 4.5 / 5

This is one of those rare instances where a sequel is so amazing, it changes my opinion of the previous installment. Fallout is the fifth-act balls-to-the-wall, nonstop action, crazy complicated, knockout finale I wanted from Rogue Nation that we never got. Director Christopher McQuarrie returns as the first director to helm two Mission: Impossible films, and he proves his mettle not only in style and class and ingenuity (which he demonstrated almost ad nauseam in Rogue Nation) but with a level of insane action that, in my opinion, surpasses all that has come before in this franchise and in many others.

Fallout takes place not long after Rogue Nation with the splintering of the Syndicate and the capture of their leader, Solomon Lane. Now reorganized as the Apostles, the Syndicate remnant seek small, portable nuclear weapons in the form of plutonium spheres, which they acquire as a result of a botched mission by Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) and his team. Well, I say "botched," but that just means Ethan did his usual thing where he saves someone he cares about (in this case, Ving Rhames's beloved Luther) instead of accomplishing the mission the easy way. It's this heart of gold that will make it difficult to swallow another character (or actor) leading one of these movies, God forbid the day should come.

Then again, this film introduces a few new characters who are at once welcome and prove themselves extremely capable to carry the mantle. This time we still have Simon Pegg's Benji and Alec Baldwin's director-turned-secretary Hunley and thank heaven we still have a glorious amount of Rebecca Ferguson's Ilsa Faust. But now we have a new CIA director in the form of Erica Sloane, played by a fierce and formidable Angela Bassett, who really should have been featured more. We also have my personal favorite addition: Henry Cavill as August Walker, a CIA assassin (I know, I know, it's just too great) sent to shadow Ethan's team and make sure they succeed. Not only is he dark and more than a tad frightening, but Cavill shrugs off the mantle of CG action and superheroic world-smashing to reveal his incredible ability to match Cruise for every punch, every jump, every bonkers stunt, and even supercede him in panache and -- forgive me -- hunky appeal. That's no small feat.

Oh, and I almost forgot. There's a magnificent little performance by one Vanessa Kirby of recent fame as the White Widow, an arms dealer in the black market. Her glassy wide eyes and charming-if-scary grin made me guess at her identity about two seconds before it was revealed: the daughter of Vanessa Redgrave's "Max" from the first Mission: Impossible. What a great addition to this picture. I just can't even.

The film itself is long; perhaps too long. Its action sequences drag on and get increasingly violent and spectacular. Each one feels like a climax, and so the film becomes a test of our endurance as well as that of its characters. Its plot features numerous subplots and technical dialogue that frankly I couldn't follow and didn't really want to. Of course, because of the nature of these films, I didn't really need to. It's like a roller coaster: You can analyze things and anticipate them and reason around them, but ultimately it'll still take you on the same track with the same feelings and sensations if you're only there for the thrill. That's the magic of this franchise.

Unfortunately, the film will not go down as my favorite Mission because of its bloated length, convoluted plot, and surprising lack of "spy" genre trappings. Its humor is also at a series low-point, not in terms of quality but simply because everything in this one is just so serious. Its charms are many but its comedy is light, which is totally fine except that it doesn't always feel like a Mission: Impossible so much as a straightforward, unattached action movie. Then again, it's a damn good action movie; certainly one of the best this year if not the last decade. The cinematography is stunning, the editing fierce, and the sound mixing breathtaking. And the stunts -- the stunts. I've never seen so many climactic, death-defying stunts in one movie that I actually cared about. The filmmakers keep outdoing themselves with lengthy takes and outrageous stunts that I started to feel overwhelmed.

What else can I say? I love this series and I loved this film. I hope there's three more coming down the line, and more still. That might truly by an impossible mission, but something tells me Tom Cruise is up for the challenge.

IMDb: Mission: Impossible - Fallout

Black Panther (2018)

Score: 5 / 5

Here it is. My favorite Marvel movie yet, and easily the most important one in the franchise. Black Panther is everything we dreamed it might be and then some. Suave and sophisticated, action-packed and thrilling, dazzling and gorgeous, it also doesn't skimp on relevance, timeliness, originality, and fun. It features some of the most rounded, dynamic characters I've ever seen in a superhero movie -- especially its antagonist -- and pairs them nicely with rich, thoughtful production design.

The basic story is simple: T'Challa returns home to Wakanda after the events of Civil War to find his throne challenged. His struggle to reclaim and reunite his homeland leads him to the contested decision of whether or not to open Wakanda to the world. Its "Afrofuturist" (as I read some calling it, magnificently) grandeur, scientific wonders, rich tastes and fashion, and technology could help liberate oppressed peoples around the world at the cost of breaking tradition and revealing their secrets. Their vulnerability, however, is no match for their warriors, led by a cadre of badass women, or their weapons.

There are so many fabulous things about this movie it would take a book to list them all. To start, Black Panther is a fresh take on the superhero story because it's about people rather than aliens or monsters or robots. The tense drama comes because we see real people arguing about real issues, albeit with laser guns and vibranium armor. Similarly, while to some extent the "hero" trope continues, this film is less concerned with Black Panther's individualism and single-handed macho victories than it is with his (and others') efforts to unite groups of people. It's a film about community first and foremost. The characters all seem radically interested in liberating their people, as well as people of color around the world. They listen to each other, support each other; there is no hierarchy of age or gender, and so we have elite women and elders who defer to youth.

Along these lines, we also see some great redemption and reconciliation between people sharply at odds. An early challenger to T'Challa, though not initially welcome, is saved from death and allowed to rejoin Wakanda society. Later, the antagonist Killmonger is similarly invited to rejoin the community. Perhaps this stems from his views on liberation; he doesn't attack or kill or terrorize for pleasure or chaos but for wanting to empower the oppressed. This is framed effectively by the flashbacks to his youth in 1992 California. Though he seeks violence as the answer, it's hard to shake his empathy and desire for justice.

And, actually, we don't have to shake it. A final scene features T'Challa addressing the United Nations, opening Wakanda to share its resources and advancements with the world. He declares that looking after each other "as if we are one tribe" must be the effort to avoid global catastrophe -- a unique perspective in a franchise about intergalactic alien conquest. While it's not the same solution as Killmonger's vision of a Wakandan global empire, it shares its beating heart: remaining isolated and secret in fact endangers the world and helps no one. Radical, violent empathy inspires and affects democratic change in policy and advances social justice. That's a lesson I can get behind every damn day.

There's more to say, but I don't want to go on forever. The acting is, across the board, stellar, though Michael B. Jordan, Danai Gurira, and Angela Bassett stood out to me. Letitia Wright plays Shuri, T'Challa's younger sister and scientific genius, in a fabulously funny role, and Andy Serkis reprises his role as a totally bat-shit-crazy Ulysses Klaue for a final time. I was really interested in Martin Freeman's role as the former CIA agent, as he goes through what, I think, white audiences go through in the film. His is a minor story arc of enlightenment as he journeys into the world of Wakanda and learns through experience not to be just an ally to the black nation, but rather to get in the thick of it and actively help them. He listens rather than talks, takes orders compliantly, and finally risks his life to save Wakanda. That's another lesson we would all do well to learn.

As a final note before I (hopefully) go see the movie again, just know: Black Panther is awesome. Go watch it, and then go watch again. Buy it later. Buy two. Give one as a gift. It's important, beautiful, fun, and brilliant.

IMDb: Black Panther