Mission: Impossible 2

Herald rating: * * * *

Cast: Tom Cruise, Dougray Scott, Thandie Newton
Director: John Woo

Rating: M (medium-level violence)

Running Time: 123 minutes

Opens: Thursday Village, Hoyts, Berkeley cinemas

Review: Russell Baillie


There's a fine moment in the cliffhanger prologue where our hero is stretched Christ-like across the rock face he's climbing just for fun. He gazes down, not overly concerned about the precarious drop, sweat-free hair flapping in the breeze, arms all tanned muscle and tendon.

It's a moment that just seems to say: "Damn, I am Tom Cruise, aren't I?"

Which is not as catchy as, "The name's Bond, James Bond," but it'll do.

Especially in that as far as whiz-bang espionage thrillers go, MI2 beats the last couple of Bonds at its own game of action overkill. Ok, maybe not in the departments of suave, self-deprecation or romance. But it has better gadgets, louder music, a sideline in x-treme sports (not only rock-climbing, there's some BMX-tricks-with-guns on motorcycles too) and Hopkins as the acidic IMF equivalent to MI6's M.

All come attached to a story that plays like the PlayStation role-play game it will inevitably become (cue nerd discussion now: has M:I2's killer virus plot ripped off Metal Gear Solid?). But at least the straightforward plot is a little more comprehensible that Brian De Palma's first instalment, which attempted to be a sort of hi-tech Hitchcock and try to be true to the spirit of the original telly show.

What MI2 hasn't got is the panache of director Woo's last Hollywood actioner, Face/Off. That one was built on an identity switcheroo and blazing double pistols. While this goes almost as ballistic unfortunately, M:I2 does gets tedious for its scenes which end with someone pulling a rubber mask off their head.

The nicest unmasked face belongs to Newton, who makes fine work of her role as the Eurobabe superthief love interest coerced into helping Cruise's Ethan Hunt to track down rogue IMF agent (Scott playing a villainous Scot), a former lover of hers, who has hatched a scheme to unleash a deadly virus and then make a financial killing on its antidote.

That love triangle doesn't hold up but it has its moments - Woo stages a courtship-by-car chase scene which turns into a spot of automotive flamenco dancing on a Spanish mountain road.

Much of the action takes place in Australia, complete with supporting good keen cobbers and hilariously postcardy backdrops. However odd it is seeing the baddies drive Falcons, thankfully Woo doesn't substitute the doves - a stylistic trademark with which he has long decorated his gunfights - for an emu and a couple of cockatoos.

That finale sure has the feathers flying with a pile-up of car chases, flying motorcycle jousting and martial arts on the beach.

Yes, of course, it is outlandishly silly, breaks half the laws of physics and runs a little flat in the scenes that do involve hardware, armaments or Cruise's dentalwork.

But it's as much fun as it should be. Which means in the world of star-vehicle damn-I-am-Tom-Cruise action blockbusters, mission: accomplished.