The Edge of Tomorrow - The Review

The Edge of Tomorrow - The Review

For 30 years I've loved The Twilight Zone, a passion rekindled recently with the Blu ray box set. 

Those relatively cheap black and white dramas, many penned by Rod Serling, were either 30 or 60 minute ’what if?’ dramas. They created great premises for broader canvases, bigger budget, big screen offerings, some of which (Real Steel) were turned into A-list epics. 

The Edge of Tomorrow could have been another of Serling’s mini masterpieces, the ’what if’ tale of a soldier resurrected to fight an alien war on Earth. 

In this case Tom Cruise is William Cage, the cocky PR man railroaded to fight against an extra-terrestrial enemy. However, his unit is decimated in a Saving Private Ryan-style attack in Normandy, and Cage wakes up a few hours earlier to live the day over and hopefully glean enough information to defeat the enemy. 

Yes, it's a video game-style premise with Cage’s seemingly unlimited lives a handy perk as he tries to level up.

He's helped by Rita Vrataski (Emily Blunt), the poster girl warrior who may or may not know more about Cage’s condition than he first thinks. 

What follows, for the first two thirds at least, is a snappily paced mix of Groundhog Day, Starship Troopers, Aliens and The Matrix, as our heroes fight whizzing, murderous creatures with the aid of clunky exo-suits. 

At one point Cage’s automated metal skeleton runs out of energy and powers down. He steps from it and leaves it standing, an empty shell. And for me that is the third act. 

Whatever wonderful ’story battery’ powered this multi-million dollar vehicle simply runs out of energy and becomes a generic, by-the-numbers adventure, hampered by the same murky, digitally graded darkness that plagued X-Men: Days of Future Past, and Hunger Games 2. 

I'm so bored of action scenes taking place in darkness, especially when the antagonists are so abstract. 

Through it all, Cruise is his usual committed self, but Blunt steals the show as the fearless posh trooper, who lights up every scene she's in. 

In a nice nod to Aliens, Bill Paxton is the gruff Sergeant Farell, commanding his drop ship troops. The scope of the movie is impressive, and director Doug Liman handles the action with flair, but the ghosts of Mr and Mrs Smith and Jumper’s humdrum finales return to haunt us. 

Whether by design or accident there is a feeling we've been here before with Tom’s earlier work, notably Minority Report (outwitting the enemy with pre-emptive moves) or last year’s elegant but sterile Oblivion (hero attempts to destroy big alien brain intelligence thing and wipe out enemy forces in one fell swoop. Smart move, but yawnsomely predictable.) 

Sadly the final scenes are also a let down, as are the closing titles. Recent Marvel offerings Iron Man, Avengers Assemble and Thor: The Dark World have offered stylish, engaging credits, but EOT looks like it was created a decade ago with a generic closing song and a feeling that the budget had all been spent by the time those last bits had to be tagged on. 

I really wanted to like Tom’s latest. I adore his positivity and enthusiasm for big crowd pleasers like this, but feel that when you strip away the shell of the movie, you're left with a sub-standard Twilight Zone episode with a rubbish pay-off. 

A real shame. 

The Tom Cruise Effect

The other week I was lucky enough to attend the Empire awards.

A galaxy of stars were in attendance, as you might imagine, and some of my favourite actors and film makers got the plaudits they richly deserved.

Having dinner on the next table to Emma Thompson and Stephen Fry would have been amazing enough, but there were so many highs on that evening, it's hard to pick the favourite moment.

James Nesbitt's opening number was superb; Simon Pegg humble speech was emotional; Arnold Schwarzenegger was genuinely hilarious as he popped in, picked up an award and cleared off, and I was thrilled to see James McAvoy pick up a gong for his superb work on the movie Filth.

And then I met Tom Cruise.

           

Rather aptly, Professor Brian Cox was on stage to award to a gong for Gravity, but I would have been fascinated to see what he thought of the Cruise effect.

There are stars, there are super novas (which burn twice as bright and last half as long) and then there is the black hole that is Tom.

Toward the end of the night I watched from a distance as what seemed like whole room gravitated towards him, desperate to have their photo taken with the man himself.

Personally, I just wanted to shake his hand, and say thanks for a lifetime worth of blockbuster movies.

A photo would have been the icing on the cake. 

If there's one billing that summed him up, it would be:

Tom Cruise: Legend. 

That may have been a rare flop, but it seems to have summed up his entire career.

So, as he filed past, I half expected he’d ignore me. 

Thankfully, Cruise is not one of those blokes.

As you’ll have seen from his many hours spent signing autographs, taking phone calls and having photos taken outside movie premieres, he's all about the fans.

I reached out a hand behind a line of security guards and fully expected he’d ignore me. 

After all, I was just another nameless journalist who just happened to have spent 30 years watching, loving, being thrilled by his movies. 

I was the guy who was so excited about Legend, I made myself Ill on that opening night (and saw it twice in a week). 

I was the guy who was there on the opening night of Top Gun at my local flea pit, when a mate and his girlfriend fell out and left 10 minutes in. 

I was the guy, like millions of others, who spent months and years paying and queuing in the rain (before multiplexes) to (aptly) see Rain Man (twice), and Days of Thunder (couldn't get in - saw Spaced Invaders instead, which was awful). 

And then I landed a job writing about films, and was still paying to see Mission: Impossible, Interview with the Vampire (twice), Eyes Wide Shut, Mission: Impossible 2 (twice), Magnolia and all those other amazing, occasionally disappointing (Rock of Ages) movies. 

I spent years interviewing his colleagues, such as Joe Pantoliano (Risky Business) and Simon Pegg, asking about whether Tom was as cool as he seemed or if he had a secret plan for world domination. 

No, he really was that cool. 

On the night of the Empires I could see why Cruise and Pegg were best mates. Both loved movies, both loved each other’s work, and both loved working with JJ Abrams, who later presented an award. 

Being a journalist it's seen as uncool to express too much emotion towards stars, but a degree of professional, mutual respect is fine. 

So I kept my cool... and then Tom shook my hand. 

It wasn't one of those ’Oh another random handshake, I wonder what's for dinner, mind on other things’ handshake. 

Tom Cruise was interested, committed to the moment 100 per cent, and when I babbled “Cheers Tom” he was genuinely grateful. 

For those five seconds I was the most important person in the room, and that is Cruise’s greatest skill.

To take a genuine interest in a stranger, albeit for a few seconds, is impressive.

There are great actors who may be awkward if you chat to them, and then there are megastars who earn every penny.

No prizes for guessing which camp Tom falls into. As he filed out of the hall, he was taking an age with the fans begging for selfies. 

I know it's not cool to like Tom in some circles. He's just a bit too successful for some Brits. We like to keep stars in check, build them up when they're on the rise to stardom and then melt their Icarus wings if they get too close to the sun. 

But that's Blighty for you. Cynical, wary of success because it's an alien concept.

We know where we are with failure. It's reassuring and comforting every time we fall, like a blanket. 

Movie stars tell us through screens that for two hours at a time you can forget reality and lose yourself in dreams. And if you work hard and mix in the right circles, you can reach dizzy heights and bask in the sun, even if you fly too close to it. 

So there you go. Thirty years of watching Cruise on screen, 23 years writing about him condensed into five seconds of thanks in one hand shake. 

Cheers Tom.