D: Brian De Palma
S: Tom Cruise, Jon Voight, Emmanuelle Beart, Ving Rhames
Bruce Geller's sixties spy series was distinguished by its low-key seriousness.
It handled outrageous implausibilities with a totally straight face and
treated its fetishistic gadgetry as run-of-the-mill details in the lives
of its super secret agents. Brian De Palma has never made a subdued film
in his life, from the days of low-budget experimentation (Greetings,
Hi Mom!) through the operatic stylings of his Hitchcock homages (Dressed
to Kill, Body Double, Obsession) to the baroque overstatement
of Scarface, The Untochables, Bonfire of the Vanities
and Raising Cain. On the face of it, Mission: Impossible seemed
like a match made in hell.
But despite some slow moments and a plot that takes a bit of effort, De
Palma has crafted one of the few genuinely enjoyable self-reflexive movies
made in the postmodern age, balancing sheer high-octane hysteria with taut,
controlled direction. There are more than enough happy adrenaline rushes
packed into this relatively short action blockbuster to make it work, and,
aided by Danny Elfman's ear-splitting rendition of Lalo Schifrin's unforgettable
theme music, every time it seems about to cross the line to sheer stupidity,
it snaps back and reminds you of the sheer pleasure of viewing well-orchestrated
mayhem with a tongue planted firmly, but not condescendingly, in its cheek.
The plot involves the efforts of IMF agent Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) to extricate
himself from a web of lies and corruption which has him framed for the murder
of his own deep cover team. Who is trying to get him and why? Will he survive
long enough to find out, with both U.S. Government agents and the henchmen
of an international arms dealer hot in his trail? A list of heavy-hitting
script and story developers and writers including Robert Towne, Steven Zaillian
and David Koepp fail utterly to make any of this very much more than whodunnit
finger-pointing with lots of oh gosh! twists and revelations. But thankfully,
De Palma has never really relied too heavily on the vagaries of screenplays,
preferring instead to find the core of the story and then twist it until
the visual world becomes a disorienting labyrinth of fantasy and reality
which he can manipulate at will, pulling the rug out from under his audience
at the slightest opportunity when he senses things have gotten too quiet.
In his hands, Mission: Impossible dances around its implausible plot
with the eagerness of a playful kitten, occasionally leaping to scratch
just when it seems about to roll over on its back and allow you to rub its
belly. He delights in killing off several of the major cast members just
when we are getting to know them (including an uncredited Emilio Estevez),
in having characters say one thing and see another, in tilting the camera
just so the dutch angles make conflicts between characters into visceral
visual oppositions, bringing the plot into and out of focus depending on
the need of the film's disconcerting momentum. He adds to this three terrific
set pieces which raise a genuine sweat (one even plays with sweat itself)
and constrain a wry smile, injecting just the right aural note from Elfman
and Schifrin just when needed. The result is very much a good time for those
able to sit back and let it work, but quick enough to spot that you don't
have to worry too much when the dialogue gets hot and heavy about morality
and motivation.
It looks beautiful, shot in exotic European locations by director of photography
Steven H. Burum, features a good cast (though Jon Voight looks a little
bit too stiff), boasts typically excellent pyrotechnics and special effects
by ILM and generates a handsome, hypnotic on screen world for De Palma to
go nuts in. Co-produced by star Cruise, this movie represents a positive
contribution to the Hollywood hit list, even though it is easily dismissed
as big-budget claptrap with nothing to say. It all works on a gut level,
and is directed with such slick ease that it sets a standard for well-crafted
nonsense equal to any of the great Hollywood no-brainers of the past. Yet
it always maintains the De Palma edge of cinematic hide and seek which allows
you to sense that its pleasures are qualified by a demand for some sort
of engagement with its playful form and structure. Mission: Impossible
is finally as good a time as we were ever likely to have with the franchise,
which will come as a relief both to fans of the series and those who couldn't
stand it. Watch it again. It holds up better than you might expect.
Review by Harvey O'Brien copyright
1997.