logo
'A miserable, apocalyptic tract': Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning could be 'the feel-bad film of the summer'

'A miserable, apocalyptic tract': Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning could be 'the feel-bad film of the summer'

BBC News14-05-2025

The opposite of an escapist blockbuster, the eighth and apparently final outing for Tom Cruise's Ethan Hunt is the doomiest and gloomiest yet in the action-adventure franchise.
With so much tension and conflict around the world, it can be a relief when a Hollywood blockbuster distracts audiences with some escapism, some optimism, and some rollicking, good-natured fun. Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning is not that kind of blockbuster. The eighth instalment in Tom Cruise's globe-trotting action-adventure franchise, The Final Reckoning is a miserable, apocalyptic tract which is fixated on the subjects of how close we are to nuclear armageddon, and how quickly civilisation can collapse. Yes, you get to see Cruise having a fight in his underpants, and doing another of his hanging-off-a-plane routines, but even so, it could be the feel-bad film of the summer.
"Truth is vanishing, war is coming," someone intones at the beginning of the film, and then we're subjected to shots of missiles launching and cities being obliterated. In place of snappy banter, there is cod philosophy about destiny and choice, and in place of Lalo Schifrin's adrenaline-pumping classic theme, there are orchestral minor chords on the soundtrack. What's disappointing about all this doom and gloom is that the franchise has made the kind of whiplashing U-turn you might see in its car-chase sequences. The last Mission: Impossible film, Dead Reckoning, was a funny, frothy Euro-caper sprinkled with mischief, glamour and romance – or as close to romance as you're ever going to get in a Cruise production – and the follow-up has the same writer-director, Christopher McQuarrie. Yet The Final Reckoning, set almost entirely in tunnels and caverns, and in the depths of the ocean, is the dullest and darkest film in the series, both literally and figuratively.
It devotes an inordinate amount of its almost-three-hour running time to scenes of people sitting in shadowy rooms, explaining the story to each other in gravelly whispers. Again and again, we have to sit through these ponderous, portentous mutterings: the title might as well have been Exposition: Interminable. Usually, these scenes are punctuated with flashbacks to what's happened before, flash-forwards to what might happen in the future, and flash-sideways (if that's a term) to different people, in different shadowy rooms, explaining the same story in the same gravelly whispers. But instead of livening up the exposition, this frantic editing hints that McQuarrie and his team couldn't get the plot underway, and so they kept cutting the footage into smaller and smaller snippets in the hope that we might not notice.
The depressing mood might have been forgivable if The Final Reckoning were a genuinely intelligent and complex drama. But it is, unfortunately, as stupid as Hollywood blockbusters get. The premise, which follows on from Dead Reckoning, is that an artificial intelligence called the Entity has taken over the internet, and will soon launch a global nuclear strike which will exterminate the human race. I'm not sure why it wants to do this, or how the good guys know its plans, but never mind. The point is that Cruise's character, Ethan Hunt, can eliminate this existential threat via some surprisingly simple means. All he has to do is click two small gadgets together, and the Entity will be a Non-Entity.
One of these gadgets is a box containing the Entity's source code, which is currently in a wrecked submarine – hence a deep sea-diving set piece which gets full marks for spookiness, and no marks for excitement. (How long do you want to watch someone swimming silently through murky water with no villains chasing him?) The other gadget that Ethan needs to end the Entity is a "poison pill" – a thumb drive, basically – which has been invented by his pal Luther (Ving Rhames). In the world of Mission: Impossible, then, this poison pill is just about the most important object in history. It can literally save mankind. So why does Ethan leave it in the pocket of his unguarded, incapacitated friend, thus allowing it to be stolen easily by the bad guy, Gabriel (Esai Morales)?
The irony is that the film keeps praising its main character to the skies. When we're not hearing speeches about how heroic he is (delivered in gravelly whispers, naturally), we're watching montages of clips from the other films in the series, as if someone were about to hand him a lifetime achievement award. But no one even mentions how catastrophically stupid he was for not putting Luther's poison pill somewhere safer.
There are countless plot problems like this to get past before the film eventually reaches the one action sequence that viewers might want to rewatch, ie, the one on the poster, with Cruise clinging to a biplane in mid-air. As we're often told, Cruise does his own stunts – and he does them brilliantly – so if you love seeing his face being blasted out of shape by high-altitude, high-velocity winds, then you'll enjoy his latest feat of aerobatics. But it's not the most original set piece: essentially, it's the helicopter sequence in Mission: Impossible – Fallout mixed with the cargo plane sequence in Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation. And you do have to ask: biplanes? Really? The choice of such an antiquated vehicle suggests that the film-makers had ticked off every other mode of transport in the course of the franchise's three-decade run, and so biplanes were pretty much all they had left.
If there is another sequel, then the gang will be forced to pedal around a park on penny-farthings, so maybe it's for the best that The Final Reckoning is being marketed as Mission: Impossible's grand finale. It's just a shame that the series' farewell had to be so solemn – and so silly.
★★☆☆☆
--
For more Culture stories from the BBC, follow us on Facebook, X and Instagram.

Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

The Möbius Book by Catherine Lacey review – beyond the bounds of fiction
The Möbius Book by Catherine Lacey review – beyond the bounds of fiction

The Guardian

timean hour ago

  • The Guardian

The Möbius Book by Catherine Lacey review – beyond the bounds of fiction

From her debut, Nobody Is Ever Missing, to 2023's Biography of X, Catherine Lacey's work has tested the forms and fabric of the novel with brilliant unease. In The Möbius Book, her experiment crosses the blurred border of fiction into something else. Life writing, autofiction, memoir? Whatever you call it, The Möbius Book is deeply serious and engrossingly playful, and it lavishly rewards serious, playful attention. A Möbius strip is a length of any material joined into a loop with a half twist. It's an uncanny shape, common and obvious, easily created and yet awkward to describe geometrically. For literary purposes, a Möbius is interesting because there's intricate structure and constraint but no ending. It goes around again, mirrored with a twist. Lacey's book takes this literally, the text printed from both ends, with memoir and fiction joined in the middle. Twin stories experiment with plotlessness and irresolution, while remaining aware of the way fiction attaches itself to linear plot and reverts to romance and quest. Characters find and lose love, find and lose meaning. In one half, two women, Edie and Marie, reminisce about their messy love lives and Christian beliefs in Marie's grotty apartment, ignoring the pool of blood forming outside a neighbour's door. In the other half, the first-person narrator leaves a controlling partner, recalls an ascetic adolescence and struggles to write and think about faith with clever friends during lockdown. Lacey is fascinated by literary form and by the metaphors for literary form, finding fiction at once a constraint and a space for play. Late in the day, the narrator, 'with trusted friends who knew how, got tied up and whipped', as 'a rite in all this, the chaos of having more freedom than I knew what to do with'. It's impossible, in a book so preoccupied with crucifixion, martyrdom and self-denial, not to see the image of the twisted Möbius loop in this friendly bondage. The structures of novels and the iconography of Christian martyrdom are both narrative responses to suffering; both offer freedom through constraint. But for Lacey, suspicious of pleasure, the compatibility of faith and art is questionable. The two modes of the book, which I hesitate to call fiction and memoir because neither is wholly committed to realism or reality, undermine each other, with images and anecdotes reappearing in transmuted form. The shadow of the angry, manipulative ex-partner falls across both, challenging the narrator's memories and intentions although, reassuringly, never inviting the reader's distrust. Edie's recounting of a transformative encounter with a dying, talking dog which speaks of the meaning of suffering (is 'dog' a Möbius rendition of 'God'?) is reprised when the narrator attends to a man lying on the street. In the first-person section, the narrator sees Matisse's painting The Red Studio in New York's Museum of Modern Art, 'the red I imagine on the floor of an otherwise white room', reflecting the blood pooling under a neighbour's door that Edie and Marie in the novel section decide is probably 'paint or something'. As the narrator comments: 'Reality at large has never been my subject, but interiority always has been.' Lacey asks large questions about interiority, especially with regard to the subject of Christian faith. For some readers, it may be an alien idea that the sharply modern intellectual rigour on display here could be combined with religious conviction. How can a narrator who can play off Proust against Gillian Rose seriously expect to find consolation in the old myths about the baby in the manger and the man rising from death? It's a question Lacey acknowledges, partly as unanswerable: 'We want to speak of gnosis and mysticism without our phones listening to us and populating browser ad space with advertisements for Goddess Retreats and bogus supplements and acupuncture mats.' Even so, the narrator attempts an exorcism, employs an 'energy healer', is seduced by ideas about magic numbers. 'Symbolism is both hollow and solid, a crutch, yes, but what's so wrong with needing help to get around?' The question is not rhetorical. There's a deep ambivalence in this book about needing literary and philosophical 'help to get around', about whether we're allowed to want or need art, which is related to the narrator's lack of appetite and consequent emaciation. 'I was afraid of the line between basic needs and cravings, between living and lust.' The fear of slipping from necessity into pleasure shapes the distrust of fiction. What if storytelling is for fun? What if we don't really need it? What if only what's necessary is true, or only truth is necessary? Inevitably, the fictional half of this book refuses many of the satisfactions of a novel. Like a miniature homage to WG Sebald's Austerlitz, the present action is mostly the recounting of past events, so that most of the characters, times and places appear only through a conversation between friends. There are complicated, triangular relationships in the background, between characters who never quite take shape, whose voices are only – and unreliably – recalled. Third-person narrative always calls into being a narrator, another layer of artifice, and here the slippage between present, past and past historic tenses also constantly reminds us that this story is at once engaging and not real. The questions are constant, implicit, teasing, elaborated rather than answered in the dark mirror of life writing. They don't go away. You can go round again. Sign up to Inside Saturday The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend. after newsletter promotion The Möbius Book by Catherine Lacey is published by Granta (£16.99). To support the Guardian buy a copy at Delivery charges may apply.

Sofia Richie and husband Elliot Grainge spotted on rare outing with daughter Eloise after marking milestone
Sofia Richie and husband Elliot Grainge spotted on rare outing with daughter Eloise after marking milestone

Daily Mail​

timean hour ago

  • Daily Mail​

Sofia Richie and husband Elliot Grainge spotted on rare outing with daughter Eloise after marking milestone

Just days after sharing her daughter Eloise's first birthday with her social media followers, Sofia Richie was spotted out on a rare outing. The 26-year-old socialite was spotted in Brentwood on Sunday with her daughter and husband Elliot Grainge. Her husband Elliot - who she tied the knot with back in 2023 - was also spotted giving her daughter a kiss during the outing. Richie was spotted wearing a v-neck white t-shirt with her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. She also donned black oversized sunglasses while carrying a beverage during the family outing. The sister of Nicole Richie completed her look with light blue jeans that were folded at the cuffs and brown sandals. Her husband Elliot - who she tied the knot with back in 2023 - was also spotted giving her daughter a kiss during the outing Her husband Grainge was seen wearing a brown shirt under a light white coat with white pants and brown loafers. The socialite recently celebrated her first Mother's Day, sharing a rare snap of her lifting Eloise in the air with her 11 million Instagram followers. She captioned the post — in which she wore jeans, a pale yellow shirt, and periwinkle ballet flats — 'My mini.' It has so far collected over 336,000 likes, including one from fellow new mom Hailey Bieber. Last month, Sofia threw a backyard party complete with little pink toddler-sized tents, a bounce house, a tiered cake and even an adult dressed as a baby. But when she posted updates from the festivities to Instagram, the standout image was a heart-melting snap of her and Elliot doting over Eloise on a pile of cushions. In her caption, Sofia wrote a touching message in which she reflected on the 'mix of emotion' she felt watching her daughter complete her first year in the world. 'A year ago today my little girl was born. I didn't realize her first birthday was going to be such a mix of emotion for me,' Sofia wrote. 'On one hand it's the most amazing beautiful milestone. On the other hand I look back and realize those tiny little moments are something I'll never get back.' 'On one hand it's the most amazing beautiful milestone. On the other hand I look back and realize those tiny little moments are something I'll never get back.' In spite of the bittersweet nature of the occasion, Sofia gushed: 'Watching her grow has been a gift. My greatest achievement will ALWAYS be her.' She added: 'She has given me purpose, and I am nothing without her. Elliot and I couldn't love anything in this life more. I don't know what I did to deserve my little buggie, but all I know is my heaven is right here on earth with her so beyond blessed'. Sofia and Elliot tied the knot in the South Of France in April 2023, in a glittering ceremony at the glamorous Hotel du Cap-Eden-Roc in Antibes. They began dating in 2021, but had apparently been acquainted with each other for several years before striking up their romantic relationship.

Scranton couple inspired by The Office suggest Slough house swap
Scranton couple inspired by The Office suggest Slough house swap

BBC News

time2 hours ago

  • BBC News

Scranton couple inspired by The Office suggest Slough house swap

What do the American city of Scranton and the Berkshire town Slough have in common?For many TV fans, it's the UK and US versions of The Office, starring Ricky Gervais and Steve Carell as comical managers David Brent and Michael Scott respectively. More than 20 years since the UK version first aired, both shows continue to be binge-watched by fans across the one couple from Scranton, Philadelphia, is looking for people from Slough to do a house swap so they can compare the two. Andrew Maine and his wife Jennifer have lived in Scranton together for almost three years and think the town wasn't shown in the most flattering of lights. "If you mention Scranton to an outsider, the show is usually the first thing that comes to mind," Mr Maine told BBC Radio Berkshire. "Most people around here feel the show didn't do a good job of representing our area," Mr Maine explained."A lot of locals take offence the showrunners picked the area because it is economically depressed, boring and doesn't have much going for it."With websites dedicated to tours of Scranton for the show's fans, the couple feel the show has had an impact on how people see the city, which is near New York. Mr Maine continued: "There's so much to offer here, but we really feel like it's under-utilised."Hundreds of fans of The Office still make pilgrimages to Scranton every year. "The local government and businesses lean into this to a degree - there are several murals, a few exhibits, a walking tour and some merchandise." 'Unique link' "I love the show and it got me thinking, what impact has The Office had on Slough - is it the same as here?" Mr Maine is where the idea to do a cultural exchange came from and the couple is now looking to do a house swap or host some Slough Maine continued: "We could show them our area and then we could do the same thing over there."We thought it would be equal parts humorous and interesting. Sure, other cities have connections on a global scale, but ours, linked by a television show, is truly unique." You can follow BBC Berkshire on Facebook, X (Twitter), or Instagram.

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into the world of global news and events? Download our app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store