Mission Impossible 2: Too Much Tom?

In Mission: Impossible 2, Cruise’s superstardom is distracting instead of charming.

Tom Cruise has transcended the “actor” role in our social milieu. Looking him up on google reports stints with scientology, his investments as a film producer, and litigations with some of the world’s largest news publications right alongside honorary Palme D’or’s. His resume is certainly diverse, which has resulted in an actor whose on-screen presence is inextricably linked to his real-world history, a history that has been tainted with reportage that have consistently presented the actor’s image as a particular hangup for him. Claims of narcissistic personality disorder fueled the fire for a narrative that placed Tom Cruise as the biggest fan of his own story. Part of this construction comes from the types of movies he chooses to lead; it means something to say one is going to see a “Tom Cruise movie,” often drawing associations to the action genre, an invincible protagonist performing death defying stunts, and the coolest run put to screen, which is not by mistake.

“Mission: Impossible” isn’t just a film franchise, it’s a Tom Cruise vehicle. Cruise has had a part in producing every film in the franchise, one that is defined by the lead performing “impossible” feats in gloriously captured action, which of course stars the man behind the money as said lead. To be fair, it is inherent in the franchise’s premise, and even the action genre itself, that the protagonist would be awed over in some capacity; anyone would look cool climbing the side of the Burj Khalifa. However, it’s the second film in the franchise where the afforded admiration for an action lead was milked for every drop, and in it’s presentation, Mission: Impossible 2 rung its viewers dry. From the ways in which Mission: Impossible 2 focuses on Ethan Hunt with overt hyper-stylization - both in narrative and visuals - the film ironically reveals how best to use Tom Cruise as an actor, a man who on the outside, is uncannily perfect. Cruise has made himself into a real life action hero and established a “Cruise” brand that has a certain charm and cleanliness which, despite the best efforts of a strong advertising team, is consistently underscored by a sense of inauthenticity for some. Ironically, by showcasing Cruise as the action hero ideal, by presenting him as “cool” beyond the typical expectations and affordances of the action genre, Mission: Impossible 2 becomes a film which exposes how Tom Cruise can be used as an actor most effectively, especially when compared to other films in his career: as a punching bag.

Before the prescription comes the illness: Mission: Impossible 2 is notorious as the worst in the franchise for a myriad of reasons, with the primary being the explosive combination of a hyper-stylish director and a star hungry for a dynamic and edifying camera making for a horribly dated film that is wholly disorienting in its depiction of Cruise as the ideal action lead. John Woo is a legendary director known for his eccentric and invigorating action, but just as he is lauded for his innovative and grounded action scenes, Woo is also known to let style override substance, especially when said “substance” is hardly more than fluff. To Woo, Mission: Impossible 2 is interesting action interrupted by said fluff, which is evidenced in the film’s illogical writing and the hyperfocus on ludicrous feats, both of which seemingly bend their logic around Cruise to highlight and enforce his superstardom.

For example, Hunt’s first mission is to successfully seduce Nyah Nordoff and use her in his mission to locate Chimera, a dangerous pathogen that could destroy the world if released, which is currently held by Nordoff’s ex-boyfriend and Hunt’s old co-worker, Sean Ambrose. The narrative task in itself is already illustrative of how Mission: Impossible 2 is unique in the franchise for its framing of Ethan Hunt as a more James Bond or Indiana Jones action hero than, say, a Jason Bourne, specifically because of the attempts at “charm” which are then uncomfortably highlighted by Woo’s camera and the narrative setup in the scene to come. In later “Mission: Impossible” films, Ethan Hunt is essentially an asexual figure whose biggest concern is the safety of his team members, with the mission goal being a close second. However, in the first few “Mission Impossible” movies, Cruise was younger, hotter, and on the precipice of taking over Hollywood; the potential to craft a star persona via a franchise vehicle was ripe for Cruise to pick, and the attempts at doing so are manifested in the uncomfortable moments where Cruise’s “charm” is fore-fronted and intended to play as charismatically seductive, but instead feels forced, and the film playing to Cruise’s demands to be the typical action-hero star: confident, sexy, stylish. Instead, the narrative contortions make one’s eyes roll; in the attempt to seduce Nordoff, there’s a now out-of-touch exchange where she lays on top of Hunt in a bathtub, with the hammy dialogue playing up the sexual tension in ways that pretends the two strangers have genuine chemistry. Cruise’s sly comments as Nordoff presses closer onto him are a tacky fit even for a Bond film, and to this viewer, sounded slimy coming from a character whose actor had a creative role in his creation, presentation, and the narrative events he would find himself in.

The assumption that Nordoff would fall head-over-heels immediately for a man like Cruise is solidified when the film shows the two slept together after their initial encounter. Again, this may be expected for a Bond franchise, but one can’t help but again roll their eyes when the film knowingly makes a visual gag at the very idea of Nyah not sleeping with Hunt/Cruise. After Nordoff and Hunt meet, have their initial introductions, and perform an illogical car chase, the film cuts to Hunt in bed, shirtless. His bedroom is white, curtains open and heavenly light bathes in; the visual language is familiar and sets audiences up to expect Nyah to be sleeping next to the totally awesome Tom Cruise. Except - gasp - Nyah isn’t there! Hunt looks to his side with disappointment, indicating to the audience that he must have failed in the attempts to seduce Nordoff. Ah, but what a fool the audience member would be for making such an assumption, as the camera pulls back to reveal Nyah is simply out of frame. This camera maneuver paired with Hunt’s intentional reaction makes it appear that Nyah would be foolish to not sleep with Cruise - after all, he’s Tom Cruise, the camera captures him like a god, and the man is capable of impossible feats…regardless of how ridiculous they may be.

Such as the aforementioned car chase. Here is an example of Mission: Impossible 2 bending any sense of logic, realism, or groundedness towards action and emphasizing Cruise as the unique enactor of said action. While a car chase is another expectation of the contemporary spy/action thriller, a car joust with two lovers flirting all the while breaks a certain sense of logic for the sake of “chemistry,” or the ability for Cruise to speak “charming” lines at Nordoff as the two dangerously race off the side of a cliff for no convincing narrative reason. The lacking motivation for the chase points at a consistent gap in logic that is latent in nearly every scene, and it is this airyness to the film’s reality paired with the stylish focus on Cruise’s abilities, whether physical feats or his sly tongue, that makes Mission: Impossible 2 feel not just tonally off, but specifically so to serve Tom Cruise as a star.

Ironically, it’s in these attempts to prop up and self-prescribe Cruise as a superstar that makes Mission: Impossible 2 a difficult watch in the modern day. Woo’s action feels more disorienting and dated than ever with his extreme cutting and reality-defying cinematography that is reliant on now old-fashioned standards of “cool” being the most memorable part of a franchise that is just concluding over two decades later. It has been written upon how the current cinematic landscape is less reliant on movie stars than previous generations, and this is only one of the reasons Cruise’s hypersexual, self-aggrandizing depiction in Mission: Impossible 2 fails to impress in the today. In fact, comparing Mission: Impossible 2 with other Cruise performances shows that the best use of Cruise as an actor is not in highlighting his star persona, but contradicting it. Edge of Tomorrow is hailed as one of the best action films in the 2010s, and stars Tom Cruise playing a military general whose never seen battle. In his own words, Cruise’s Major William Cage would pass out at the drop of blood, so it is thrilling for audiences to see him on the battlefield moments later. While this would be the case for any actor in the role of “scared soldier forced to fight,” I believe that William Cage’s character is strengthened specifically because it is Cruise playing the part. For a character who has never seen battle, it is perfect to cast an actor who audiences have historically seen win in every fight he’s attempted, no-doubt in part because of performances like those in Mission: Impossible 2. The Cruise brand is perfection, but what happens when that perfect smile is forced to crack? The answer: the character behind the charm comes through. Take another example where Cruise is significantly punished to the story’s success: Eyes Wide Shut. I find it hard to believe that Kubrick’s film about a cocky doctor trying and failing to reach a place amongst the gods would be better off without Cruise, the seemingly perfect man, at the fore. Cruise’s real world history matched that of his character; a man trying to control his persona and perception, only to have reality interrupt his projection. Lastly, Mission: Impossible’s opening is as electric as it is in part because of how confident Hunt’s crew is going into the impossible task. It’s a delight to see Hunt casually chat with his secret agent friends before going into a world-threatening mission, but it’s only truly engaging when Hunt’s smirk wipes away, the crew slowly realizes the reality of their situation, and the lead’s confidence disappears along with any chance at the mission’s success. In all three of these examples, Cruise is the leading role of a successful narrative or sequence because of how it tortures its hero, not because of how the film props up its protagonist. **This initially sounds like an overstatement of a narrative rule already written in stone, which is that conflict is more interesting than stasis. Stories are dynamic because characters are challenged, but these three examples, I argue, have already successful narratives amplified on-screen because it is the perfect Tom Cruise performing the role of the imperfect protagonist.

The ultimate takeaway from Mission: Impossible 2 for this viewer is thus the importance of casting. Any one of the roles previously mentioned would have expressed a different tonality for the film and quality for the character if they were played by a different actor. The psychological associations viewers make with actors are one of the reasons casting directors exist. A character is informed by their look, contexts, and actor’s real world history. Knowing how an actor plays to audiences on-screen is necessary for the most effective version of a story, and great casting will use the actor’s history in ways that compliment and support the film instead of interrupting it. The actor is an element of the movie, but in Mission: Impossible 2, viewers would be forgiven for thinking the film itself was secondary to the man on its poster.