Movie Review: Collateral

Feel free to continue to detest Tom Cruise and yet see this movie.

Ohmygod! I've admitted to hating one of the biggest stars this meager universe has set eyes on! He is, like TOM CRUISE! He's a marquee name!

Yeah, so's the word, 'Exit.'

I really did try to like Tom a long time ago. I saw an inkling of his abilities back in Born on the Fourth of the July and again in Magnolia. I even noticed a tad of ability in the over compensated Minority Report. I have to admit he is a good performer. And he has my respect in that department. I don't have to like him because of that.

But then reality takes over. Yes, he did follow Born with Days of Thunder (which was actually released prior) and Mission: Impossible. I mean, Mission: Impossible was a freegin ensamble television show, with like, twenty characters.

Then Tom moves in as producer. Ooops. Twenty gets reduced down to one.

See what I mean? He may play the press like a fiddle, but his ego is right there, right on his sleeve.

And yes, I admit, the whole thing about being called gay and suing people. Like being called gay is a bad thing. It could hurt him. Hello? Wolverine is playing a gay man on Broadway and doing part three and made Van Helsing.

And his problem is, um, where?

Well, nowhere, depending on this movie. This is an excellent movie. Here I am going on and on about why I hate Tom Cruise--but why I love this movie? That list is going to go far beyond that. Besides, hate takes so much energy.

Michael Mann. To me, he did justice to the book Red Dragon by the slightly superior Manhunter in the late 80's. His Last of the Mohicans was fantastic--a movie that follows the book. Heat? Very warm, thank you. I like the guy. His movies have a certain auteur quality you just don't see in summer blockbusters. The camera continues to move (but not the herky-jerky stuff you see in Baz Luhrmann) and makes something that could come off as a one act play--two men meeting a taxi--into something surprisingly engaging.

Yes, this is the tale of two men meeting in a taxi. It starts off without a rush, a surprisingly honest piece of written dialogue, with Jamie Foxx as a driver. He talks with his charge, the up-and-coming Jada Pinkett Smith (I'm sorry, but the Smith family is about to take over Hollywood, frankly. We might want to prepare by buying tickets NOW), and it's natural, almost improvisational. I had never seen Jamie Foxx in the movies before. All I know is that the entire cast of In Living Color probably should have been canonized--it seems each one of them is worthwhile. He, unlike his costar, is a true natural. He reminded me of Spencer Tracy, swept up in a world that he never wanted but is strong enough of handle. Tom wants the head shots, Jamie just wants to be in the picture.

Ebert mentioned his hesitancy of seeing Jamie do Ray Charles justice in his next bio pic, Ray. No worries. I'm thinking I need to get a ticket for that one too.

That was a tangent, wasn't it? Anyway, Max (Jamie's character) picks up his next customer and gets tucked into a murder spree, with Tom playing a contract killer. I don't want to elaborate, because the film is so unique, further explaination will kill the zing of the tale. But I found the writing to be crisp, and the placement of elements not forced or set up.

In other words, I was surprised, consistently. Several times. Not easy to do.

And I think you will be too.