Mission : Accomplished

The summer is great, sunny and succulent, more to the vexation of its inhabitor's critters, and probably it takes some amount of slick direction to create a more thermodynamically radical installment to variegate the exquisite canvas into the shady world of Agent Ethan Hunt. The movie, goes without saying was M:I:III, and after a whole day of chagrin over lack of tickets, I got reciprocation of my earnestness. My cerebral creature was squirming in disgust, firstly accounting the astringent cold, yes you do get that, all you need is a bad day and lots of dust, and of course its most paradoxical confere, the torched climate. Armed with a grouchy demeanor, I was literally lambasting anyone that did not suite my peripheral gaze, atleast what I managed to focus through the throbbing headache.

My twisted and fatigued musculature was efficaciously replaced with a plasticised one of Tom Cruise, and I was one again. One again with the mien of a spy, an agent, an emissary, conjured up through my limited but deeply gratifying devouring of Robert Ludlum. I needed this, after all the spoony candy-ass romances, porcine 'Bollywood', I beg your pardon, villains and non sensical story lines, more aptly described as perfunctory copy-paste jobs. Tom Cruise delights, to the bone. Never has he been Ethan Hunt handled with such panache and aplomb, and this time, whatever the big shots of critique would say, Ethan Hunt is reborn with a more operative persona, a relief to the wits end original version where he seems like a hapless quarry. Yes, the original did give you the thrills, tangentially defining the essence of the Mission series, but you feel a bit for Ethan there. The first sequel was more of a sleep walk through deliverance. John Woo falls just short of making an advertisement. No deft agent work, no espionage. Our agent seems infallible, threatening the very conscience of a spy thriller. Debauching the relatively better standards created by Brian De Palma, Woo was flagrant. He took the celluloid to be a drawing book, making a lurid picture bulldozing the entire crayon box, making a garish visual mistreat. But this time, though all the emotional capers of Hunt, he seems plausible. But I miss the singularity of Hunt in the original, where he is not coerced into missions for relationships or worse, love. That, according to me would give his character plenty of leverage, both as a man on job and as an unencumbered logistic. But this time however, J.J. Abrams, a television 'phenomenon', riding high on Alias and Lost, treats Hunt with his canny craft, and doesn't make the 'I'll be there, honey' rhetoric distant to the plot. You'd count Julia as one of the 'mission objectives' rather than Hunt's personal indulgence.

A good pyrotechnic job, last minute alterations, witty dialogues and cinematic glisten is all on an intelligent display here. Hunt saves the day with a mandatory luck. Lady luck, eh? Well, Michelle Mohanagan is a good girl, a warm woman, who doesn't know anything about the double life of Ethan Hunt, who she believes works for the traffic department, and all her friends believe is too boring, and thinks that traffic is a creature with a memory. Their scenes together are however cold and weak, and doesn't setup a reasonable enough premise for our hero to go halfway across the world to save her. It needed more footage.




The movie opens up with a taut interrogation scene with Cruise and Hoffman (I have a paragraph dedicated to this guy!) leaving the viewer revved up, neck deep into the story. The object of everyone's contention is something known as a Rabbit's Foot, not some ultra expensive animal appendage, but some chimerial compound, a bio weapon But like these comma separated list of inferences, its a classic McGuffin! The plots unfolds through the habitual briefing of Agent Ethan Hunt, although through different modes, all intricate in their own right, this time its a camera, with the usual caveat of immediate self destruction. Hunt is in semi-retirement, until he is lured back into active service when one of his protege, Keri Russell, Abrams' apparent favorite, goes missing in Berlin. Yeah yeah, the same old dingy recesses of abandoned factory compounds shielding entire fleets of Apache's and enough weapons to support a small army, and the intrusion is one snazzy piece of agile screenplay. Check that sequence out, its amazing, but only a filler to more bizarre sequences that Abrams is so successful in creating. Reminds me of Sam Fisher meets Solid Snake.


So we have tiny explosives implanted into heads through noses, and not to miss the playful masquerade into the Vatican to kidnap Philip Seymour Hoffman. Now this man is discerning. Everything about him, most attention seeking is his dead pan sadistic voice. He plays a black market 'provider', who is willing to furnish anything to menacing militias in the Gulf given the right price. And he does it with a disturbing composure. No he isn't a maniac, he is not an excessively sanitized power hungry freak, and certainly not a cheap gangster. He is an ingenuous mix of all these. He throws swank parties but talks like a sullen misanthrope. He threatens Hunt, "I am gonna find her and I am gonna hurt her' He says it with such a terrible mocking seriousness, that I believed him. He is an unexpected package, right from the first scene, embarks as a mean, one on one vengeance seeking behemoth, like there is no escape than to kill him, his ominous intones conveying a profound message, "Somebody stop me! And there is noting you can do..."


Mission is a clever tale, which innocuously hides the superfluidity with quick turns and twists that the viewer is too transfixed to question. The movie's most laudable and extravagant sequence of the bridge where Hunt is double crossed, he scurries across a six meter wide gap with a machine gun bringing a plane down with that, highlights the achievement of Abrams. Mission is banal, but too garnished to feel the difference. A simple agent-recovery mission leads to a gripping trail into the highest corridor's of the IMF. Billy Crudup, Hunts immediate senior, provides the enigmatic suspense in the movie. The trick lies there. Even the most shocking moment is hackneyed, but you are too awed to be compromised. Abrams creates, and boy does he do well. All the car chases in Shanghai with a building arched drop, and Hunt shoots two guards on his head first slide down a giant glass pyramid on the top of a building, the deadal gadgetry in the Vatican, Cruise sneaking in as a bishop, the protracted explosions in Berlin, all showcase Cruise's commitment, a contractual allegiance. Cruise gives it his all. And boy does he love to run. His sprint is a fixture in every Mission installment, the dude just loves to do it. This time through the crammed slums in China, and he never seems to collide. Whew!
The Vatican affair provides a relief from the other edgy sequences with a welcome humor. Watch Hunt tip walk over a wall and lay supine beside a camera over all by a computerized pulley, to come down on the other side stopping inches above the ground. Maggie Q comes in with something that's makes me forget her in the frame, A Lamborghini Diablo, only to be blown up. The meticulous planning here is fun, including that mind blowing latex mask 'developer', shall I say.


The plots weaves into China, where a desolate apartment finds Hunt etching formulae on a window pane with a wax pencil, to something that belies Cruise's age. The plot culminates there eventually constructing an electric climax, and we find Hunt crying. Such an anti thesis isn't it? But Abrams manages to cover that up with smart screenplay. Abrams doesn't make compromises here experimenting. He uses all his crew, to do something Alias does almost perennially, even brings in his trusted composer for the soundtrack. The match is hot, damn the fire engulfs you! Chasing the can (rabbit's foot) across the streets, ensuing in a tense car chase, Abrams familiar stomping grounds, you are treated with a cinematic richness. We also see the staid Mohanagan picking up the metal, and go berserk, she exhibits a primal comfort for the weapon. Too much for a first timer Abrams!


Hunt's cohorts, Ving Rhames' Luther and two new additions, Maggie Q, who is sheepishly underused and Jonathan Rhys Meyers, the football-shootball coach of Bend It Like Beckham. He like Q is sidelined after Match Point. Luther, now a veteran in the Mission series takes on some preaching liberties this time, commenting on Ethan's predicaments. That's character evolution, a welcome change by Abrams, from the wooden beefy geek. He does it this time too, but with a humane involvement. Not to trade off with his terse one liners, sample this, "The Rabbit's Foot is in that building. The good news, its small enough, so we can steal it. The bad news, we have to steal it." Lawrence Fishburne, the indoctrinating and brusque boss, is satisfactory, more liked for his witty one liners again. He doesn't care if your daddy plays golf with the President. Cool!

Its the perfect mediocre relief, one of the best this summer has beckoned, apart from the impending hopeful bonanza, Casino Royale.



PS: Click to enlarge the images. Some have taken an experienced eye of a pointless mobile cameramen who draws unwilling glances. So much for the contentment of my efforts. I dont take any responsibility for any misunderstandings for recognition, and Ving Rhames is really that dark! Rhys really does look like a chicken, who says bird flu's over? Maggie Q I am sorry, no photographs of yours, was busy checking out the Lamborghini and some passenger...All the third party names are expected to be kept unspoken...