Ethan Hunt has chosen a lot of impossible missions. And he’s taken down a lot of villains. From oily terrorists to agency moles, Ethan and his team have faced and beaten a bevy of bad, bad people.
But what if your enemy isn’t a person at all?
Enter the Entity, AI programming gone very wrong and very rogue. Its origins are complex; its goals, mysterious. But intelligence services around the globe are aware it’s up to something: infiltrating national defense systems; influencing intelligence; and, occasionally, eliminating organic lifeforms for its own shadowy purposes.
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Few people know the Entity even exists. And those who do? They’re terrified. But they’re also … intrigued. Charmed, even.
Sure, they don’t want the Entity traipsing through their country’s own top-secret digital apparati. But the ability to tunnel into those of other countries? If they could “capture” the Entity and somehow tame its unruly code? Well, that’d be a powerful weapon, make no mistake.
In a world in which pictures can be digitally manipulated, where voices can be faked, where facts themselves are often called into question, the Entity just might make truth itself a relic. Forget misinformation: The Entity is nix-information—a tool that can scramble (or steal) nuclear codes, obliterate elections and send armies to attack the penguins of Antarctica. In the words of one character: “Whoever controls the Entity controls the truth.”
Naturally, the U.S. intelligence community would dearly love to put a binary leash on the Entity and bring it to heel. Ethan Hunt—the Impossible Mission Agency’s talented, constantly disavowed agent—is clearly the best man to corral the Entity.
But while Ethan would like to get his hands on the Entity, too, he means to destroy it. And he’ll need some help along the way.
Yep, this time Ethan Hunt is assigning himself an impossible mission. He’s going rogue in search of a rogue AI—one that can manipulate every smartphone and satellite feed, one that even has a few human helpers to do its dirty work.
This time, he’ll need to do more than don a rubber mask or hang off an airplane. He’ll need to do the impossible.
Thank goodness he’s used to that.
Ethan does a lot of stuff that would get most of us thrown in prison for several millennia, including working against his own government. But given the Entity’s ability to “lie,” if you will—the ability that makes it the ultimate prize for every government after it—destroying it seems like a higher, more moral mission. Success in this mission means preserving self-determination, autonomy and perhaps even the notion of truth itself.
And in contrast to the Entity’s binary code, Ethan’s very much a people person. When someone on his team suggests that each of them is “expendable” when it comes to this assignment, Ethan says, “I don’t accept that.” He tells a new team member that he values his teammates’ lives more than he values his own—and he, at least, seems to believe it.
The value Ethan places on people would seem to be counterintuitive both to self-preservation and the mission at hand. But against such a coldly rational enemy, that sense of love and sacrifice may indeed be a powerfully irrational, and irrationally powerful, weapon.
Ethan’s kinship with his teammates is reciprocated. Given that none of them have any real connections outside the team, they’ve all become something of a family. Benji (a technician and agent on the team) admits that nothing is more important to him than his friends. He and Luther (the computer whiz of the bunch) willingly risk their careers and their lives to help Ethan—even when he encourages them to stay away for their own safety. Ilsa—Ethan’s one-time frienemy-turned-friend-and-ally (frienally?) risks her life not just for her friends, but for a near stranger.
A newcomer, a talented thief who calls herself Grace, certainly doesn’t have, or even understand, that sense of loyalty and sacrifice at the movie’s outset. But she comes to understand it better. And before the credits roll, she shows an ever-greater willingness to dare and risk for a greater good.
An act of unexpected mercy produces unexpected dividends.
Dead Reckoning Part One, as is the case with most Mission: Impossible movies, steers clear of overt spirituality. But it relies heavily on religious imagery and themes to set the stage.
The most obvious example is a mysterious two-part key that’s designed in the shape of a cross. (Because it’s bedecked in high-tech jewel-like accoutrements, it comes with the vibe of a Catholic relic.) Characters refer to it as a “cruciform” shaped key. And when characters digitally trace half of the key from one holder to another, it looks even more like a Christian cross on screen.
Another interesting touchstone: Gabriel, the main human antagonist here. He serves the Entity as its “chosen messenger” (an intentional turn of phrase, considering the angel Gabriel’s role as a messenger in the Bible), and he’s also referred to as a “dark Messiah.”
We see churches and religious buildings in some scenes. Someone holds a cross around his neck in a moment of peril and seems to say a prayer. There’s a joking reference to Ethan being a vampire.
For those so inclined, the idea of a truly sentient form of AI may spark some theological questions worth mulling and talking over.
An important meeting takes place in a boisterous nightclub, where dancers on platforms writhe in outfits so formfitting that they could easily be taken as nude.
Ethan and Ilsa grow rather chummy as the movie goes on, but their affection seems to walk the line between close friends and something more. We see her hold his arm and rest her head on his shoulder, but nothing much beyond that.
Ethan and Grace flirt when they first meet each other—but it’s a ruse by both parties. Later, circumstances force them to work literally closely with one another (including a stretch of time when they’re handcuffed to each other), during which time they hold hands and comically scrape their bodies by one another (in, say, a moving car). We hear a bit about Grace’s past, which includes a failed relationship.
In flashback, we see Ethan with yet another woman with whom, we assume, he had a romance with.
It’s called Mission Impossible, not Mission Peaceable. No one here flinches at violence or death. And while Ethan and Grace both seem concerned about protecting innocent lives, plenty of folks—both innocent and guilty—lose theirs.
An entire submarine crew is killed in the movie’s opening moments. The sub suffers a catastrophic breech, and the bodies of the dead float in the Arctic water, bouncing against the ice above.
A chaotic chase through the streets of Rome depicts several crashing cars, imperiled onlookers and untold levels of property damage. People are shot and stabbed, often (but not always) fatally. Someone’s throat is sliced open. Loads of fights take place, featuring feet, fists and deadly weapons. A man is apparently hung. (We see his body dangle from where he was left.)
Ethan and others often use nonlethal methods to incapacitate their enemies, but it can still feel harsh. In some scenes, rooms full of people succumb to a sort of knock-out gas (leaving just mask-wearing characters conscious). Another woman is knocked out as part of a ruse.
A nuclear bomb nearly goes off. A good chunk of a train plummets off a destroyed bridge. A torpedo explodes. Characters fall, or nearly fall, from some pretty tremendous heights.
A handful of profanities come out to play, including one use of “b–tard” and a few each of “d–n” and “h—.” We hear what sounds like the beginning of an f-word in one scene. God’s name is misused eight times, five instances of which are paired with “d–n.”
There’s not a lot of drinking here, but we do see characters in the presence of wine, champagne and liquor.
Obviously, Ethan and others lie and mislead as part of the mission. Others deceive and manipulate as well. Grace is a thief, and she’s quite good at her job. People drive recklessly in Rome. I mean, even more recklessly than most people already do in Rome.
There’s certainly a sense that the world as we know it is dying. We hear some references to climate change and dwindling resources, and the U.S. is presented as no better or more exceptional than any other nation. “The days of you fighting for the so-called greater good is over,” one government official tells Ethan.
Give props to Tom Cruise and the real-world team behind the Mission: Impossible movies. Built on Cruise’s considerable charisma, stunning set pieces and breathtaking real-world stunts, the MI movies represent this era’s gold standard in action movies.
Coming on the heels of Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny—a fabled franchise that once ruled the cinematic action roost—the contrast couldn’t be sharper. While Dial of Destiny leans back on its nostalgic charm and CGI, Dead Reckoning Part One leans forward.
Sure, the franchise is pretty long-in-the-tooth, too: Any 14-year-old who saw, in theaters, the original Cruise-fronted 1996 Mission: Impossible movie is 41 now, maybe with 14-year-olds of her own. Her grandmother might wax nostalgic about the original Mission: Impossible TV series, which debuted in 1966.
And yet, the movies still feel fresh. Exhilarating. And Cruise—even at age 61—feels like a credible action star.
Dead Reckoning has its issues. People fight and die. Some sensuality writhes about in the background. Language can be harsh, and the moral conundrums in play here are glossed over in the movie’s rush to its next set piece. One should not mimic Ethan Hunt and rush headlong into this story, heedless of the dangers.
But let’s also give the movie props. While bullets fly and blades flash, the action isn’t particularly bloody. The movie’s sensuality is kept largely in the background. The language, overall, is milder than what we’d hear in a standard superhero flick.
Dead Reckoning Part One is intense, to be sure. But for many families, the film will be more navigable than a Tom Cruise stunt. Will Part Two follow suit? That’s something we’ll reckon with when the time comes.
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
