EDGE OF TOMORROW

LATEST TOM CRUISE VEHICLE MAKES GOOD ON OLD TROPE

 

Tom Cruise saves the world. That’s what he does.

The amount of lives he’s saved probably ranks him up there with Schindler and Jenner. He never gives up. He never fails.

And that really sucks all the jeopardy out of the apocalypse.

I first knew of Edge of Tomorrow by its birth name, All You Need is Kill – a stupid title for the latest unremarkable Cruiseathon. One name change later and a poster started to do the rounds: Cruise wearing a generic mech battle suit looking bloodied and pissed-off. I saw it, gave a shrug and went to see A Million Ways to Die in the West.

The trailer did little to soften my bias. Cruise was still Cruise, though Emily Blunt was an interesting choice. "Live, Die, Repeat" just made me wonder about what Harold Ramis's reaction would've been. I like to think he would've shit himself laughing.

And that was to be my last thought on Edge of Tomorrow. That is, until the turkey whose goose I thought was cooked (what?) started coming away with decent write-ups. A lot of decent write-ups – too many to write off (what?!) as fluke, so many my bias started to creak. And I'm quite glad it did.

This sci-fi re-imagining of Groundhog Day sees Major William Cage (Cruise), a talking head for the United Defense Force (UDF), railroaded into active service, despite having no combat training, the day before the big push to retake mainland Europe from an alien race called Mimics. Why "Mimics" you ask? Good question.

Demoted to Private and branded a deserter, Cage is embedded with 'J Squad' under the command of Master Sergeant Farell (Bill Paxton... who I was surprised to see had made it to Master Sergeant after being eaten by Xenomorphs 28 years ago, but he's back with another rag-tag team of future warriors – "Stop your grinnin' and grab your linen!").

Come the morrow and Cage is strapped into a mech suit he can't work and armed with guns he can't fire. Not since Cocktail have we seen Cruise play such an inept character. He hits the beach in real Saving Private Ryan style and is soon put in a death-or-death situation – but not before taking out an "Alpha" Mimic, whose blood imbues Cage with the ability to "take back the day" upon his death. This ability, coupled with Cage’s fallibility, lets us see Cruise confront a concept he rarely tackles: defeat.

While we’re never given an exact number, it is assumed that Cage spends several decades repeating the same single day – this requires him to die. A lot. And given the parade of thrillers and sci-fi epics Cruise has cruised (why are you rolling your eyes?) through in his career, seeing him fail to this extent is a refreshing change of pace from the infallible, dependable protagonists we’ve seen him portray – Ethan Hunt scaling the Burj Khalifa, while sweat-making, doesn't place me in any doubt about the outcome; Cage doesn't offer the same reassurance.

Helping Cage negotiate this gauntlet of cosmic trial and error is Sergeant Rita Vrataski (Emily Blunt), a war hero and poster child who once possessed the same ability as Cage. After meeting on the battlefield, Vrataski agrees to train Cage, believing this ability to be the key to ending the war. As her first foray into the action genre, Blunt's physicality and presence convinced me from the outset, striking a good balance between stern focus and wry humour while also maintaining her femininity in the wake of all the chaos, placing her in similar territory to Carrie-Anne Moss's Trinity.

What follows is a reel of repeated scenes, signposting where in the day we are; each the same as the other, with the only changed detail being Cage. As these montages progress, we see Cage develop and learn from each of his deaths, but we never feel what Danny Rubin called "the Weight of Time". What was keenly felt in Phil Connors as he struggled in vain to understand what was happening to him and why, feels glossed over in Edge. This lack of burden makes the sorrow Cage experiences in the face of Vrataski's repeated deaths feel forced – we haven't been there with him, we've only seen the highlights.

It does, however, contain the same clever touches when depicting the time loop trope: finishing sentences, apparent omniscience and clairvoyance, repeating conversations. During an interview with Cruise on The Daily Show, Jon Stewart said the movie reminded him of video games; the trial and error, the evolving methods and tactics, the repetition. A scene in which Cage walks Vrataski through the Ministry of Defense, making specific turns and ducks to make it through, had strong connotations with stealth games of the Hitman/Splinter Cell variety for me.

This fidelity to the magic of the time loop is fully realized by the ending, as everything is reset back to where we find Cage at the start of the film, only now bearing witness to the end of the war. He soon finds Vrataski, alive and a stranger once more – though probably not for long. While this may seem like a cheap get-out, it also lives up to the same fairy tale standard of Groundhog Day, yet here it feels unearned. What was clearly Phil's cosmic reward for bettering himself feels more arbitrary and less destined in Edge.

However, it remains the case that Edge of Tomorrow is an interesting depiction of a familiar trope, giving Cruise the chance to become fallible again and Blunt the opportunity to flex some action muscle. Director Doug Liman brings tight and focused direction to a genre mash-up that could've been easily derailed in less experienced hands. And for all the Cruise-haters out there, his death-yelp is worth the price of admission.

A MILLION WAYS TO DIE IN THE WEST

SETH MACFARLANE BITES THE BIG ONE WITH SCATTERSHOT COMEDY

I am not a Seth MacFarlane fan.

But I'm not a massive hater either.

When Family Guy first arrived, I was one of those douchebags who was vaguely insulted by the existence of this show that seemed to be encroaching on territory held by The Simpsons.

Then I remembered that I stopped watching The Simpsons and promptly forgot all about him...  Until Ted was released.

I was and still am a huge proponent of that movie -- a sturdy balance of high concept, irreverence, cameos and a teddy bear fellating a chocolate bar. In fact, there was a night (shortly after the red band trailer was released) when the "Thunder Chunder Song" echoed long and hearty through the streets, my drunken war cry as I hunted for Indian food and a quiet place to pass out in my own sick.

So, when A Million Ways to Die in the West announced its existence, I was pumped. Not only a western, (Hollywood's dying art and a genre I have great affection for) but a comedy western? "A Blazing Saddles for the Twitter age!" I imagined, "Ted with a six-shooter!" I opined.

This is not what I got.

I was instead treated to 116 minutes of poorly-timed and rambling dialogue, self-aware parody that fell into self-parody (which I didn't even realize was possible in a parody) and Seth MacFarlane, now sans mo-cap suit and Peter Griffin's dulcet tones, missing the mark at nearly every turn. 

His first on-screen offering since his turn in 2010's cultural milestone The Tooth Fairy, MacFarlane's performance as mild-mannered shepherd Albert was tainted with unease and overcompensation in equal measure. He feels the need to sell every line, as though his voice isn't interesting without that nasal Griffin twang, and in the quiet moments he has even less sense of purpose and presence. I imagined he was counting the seconds until he could yell "Cut!"

Meanwhile, Charlize Theron, MacFarlane's partner in crime, proved to be the film's saving grace as Anna, reluctant bandit and trophy wife to Liam Neeson's murderous gunslinger, Clinch. Theron's ballsy charisma, infectious laughter and comic timing showed she has more to offer comedy than just the acerbic barbs of the beastly Mavis Gary. Were a spin-off to be in the offing, I could see Theron's character being more than enough to carry a feature film.

Sarah Silverman's pixie-like saloon whore Ruth also deserves special mention. Her dry and somewhat dreamy delivery (a major strength in her stand-up) makes the explicit material her character is dealt much easier to swallow (...what?).

In fact, the women of this picture come off better than the men, with Amanda Seyfried's character Louise being given one of the more memorable scenes from the film. I'll let you to decide which one. 

Liam Neeson is suitably menacing and his stunt bottom is more than a little cheeky (...WHAT?), while Neil Patrick Harris's mustache gets sucked on by Amanda Seyfried -- Yes, I decided I couldn't trust you to decide which one. And NPH's character is perfectly superior in every way.

Yet despite the worthy casting, A Million Ways is let down by an uneven and often abrupt script that can't decide which pitch to swing at. 

And this is where the wheels come off the wagon (...seriously, what?). A Million Ways positions itself as a satirical kick in the testiculars of every romanticized depiction of the Frontier in cinema, establishing the sheer lunacy of living in the American West through Albert's repeated and comprehensive critique of life in Old Stump. And yet MacFarlane does not follow it through, falling back on the kind of absurd and outlandish gags (Great Scott!) that Blazing Saddles did without apology, but here would seem out of place, undermining the film's main objective.

But who really cares about that?
"This is a comedy, not one of the handful of serious dramas that studios churn out come Oscar season. You see it for the yuks. Do it got yuks?" says one of you hipsters. So I leave you with this:

I went to see A Million Ways with a friend of mine. Now, bear in mind he'd been working early shifts for the three days leading up to us seeing the film and he'd only gotten a cumulative three hours sleep in that time, such is his masochistic circadian rhythm. Of the 116 minutes this film runs, he saw about 8 minutes. He slept through the rest. And only the big laughs woke him.