Mission: Impossible — Rogue Nation isn’t just a film with the audacity to use a colon AND an em-dash in its title; it’s also the fifth in a series that’s now almost old enough to drink. The latest M:I flick is another globe-trotting, mask-ripping-off, Tom-Cruise-doing-his-own-insane-stunts thriller that hops from Cuba to Vienna to Morocco in the span of 10 minutes screen time.

At this point I’m starting think that Tom Cruise is adopting an Adam Sandler-like approach to making films: just signing up to get paid to hang out with his buddies in exotic locales. But where Sandler and his unfunny band of brothers are smoking weed, sitting on the beach, and cracking fart jokes on lounge chairs made of cash, Tom’s doing inverted crunches, pounding down baked chicken breasts, and hanging on the side of a plane hundreds of feet in the air. Fortunately the results of the latter’s filmed paid vacays are more enjoyable to watch than the former’s.

Still, it’s been quite a few summers since The Bourne Identity (2002) and Casino Royale (2006) recalibrated the Hollywood spy guy as a badass sociopath well-versed in close-quarters combat, and that no-holds-barred / no-fun approach is a little tiresome. Cruise’s super-agent Ethan Hunt — a 50-something who could shred a potato into hash-browns with his sharp, weird side stomach muscle things — is still cut from that same cloth, though fortunately he’s a bit less serious than Damon or Craig (a necessity in a post-Fast and Furious summer landscape). 

In the most welcome addition to the franchise, M:I–5 cranks up the humor more than any of Ethan Hunt’s previous outings. Simon Pegg’s comic relief contributions are certainly good for a laugh, but Cruise’s charming muggings make for some of the funniest bits — thanks to director/co-writer Christopher McQuarrie, who played Cruise to a similar effect for some release from all the white-knuckle madness in Edge of Tomorrow. (An early bit has a young lady familiar with Hunt asking him, "Is it true what they say about you?" To which Cruise considers responding but then simply serves up a puckish grin. If that wasn't intended to be at least a little bit of a joke about the public's perception of Cruise, it sure of hell should have.)

The plot is typical spy-movie fare, something seemingly pulling plot points from a spy-movie word generator (prime minister, access codes, disavow, double agent) and like the rest of the series there’s a bit too much of a reliance on Ethan Hunt’s “I knew this exact situation would happen all along and planned for it.” 

Throughout the tension isn’t as high as in Rogue Nation’s predecessor, Ghost Protocol, but the film’s 15-minute centerpiece is a car-and-motorcycle chase spectacle in two parts that’s worth the price of admission alone. It’s frenetic but easy to follow. (Think: John Wick but with automobiles.) 

Rogue Nation nearly sinks with a silly underwater scene intended to serve as M:I–5’s version of the original’s Cruise dangling from the ceiling bit. It’s a scene Cruise trained to hold his breath six minutes for (and the single shot where he puts that training to the test is impressive enough). But when things go all CGI it feels like a waste of time — and a waste of talent like Cruise, someone who’s willing to throw himself off skyscrapers or into hairpin turns on a crotch-rocket for the sake of getting the shot.

Where Brad Bird’s massively entertaining joy ride Ghost Protocol was the Mission: Impossible series’ Fast and Furious 5 moment, this is it’s Fast and Furious 6. It's certainly not un-entertaining, but, still, it packs a slightly weaker punch… if only because you see it coming.

—Eric Pulsifer

Pixels seems like one of those films that is just randomly generated by A.W.E.S.O.M.-O. So, maybe, um, the world is attacked by, um, old video games somehow, but it turns out to be aliens and the only thing that can stop them, is, like, um, Adam Sandler?

Actually, that is pretty much the plot synopsis. A video game competition in 1982 was recorded and put into a probe that NASA launched into space as part of a cultural something or other—it isn't really clear. Sandler's character was really good at video games in '82 but was beat by a cocky asshole calling himself “The Fireblaster” who grows up to be Peter Dinklage. Fast forward 33 years, and Sandler is part of the Nerd Brigade (Best Buy's Geek Squad), and his best friend is Kevin James (and somehow, inexplicably, the President of the United States). Galaga attacks Guam, and President James calls his buddy in because he recognizes the aliens attacked with what looks like Galaga. Sandler was always great at recognizing the patterns of those old video games, after all, he was the second best in the tournament, and we're off!

Pixels is a science-fiction film without all that pesky science. How are the aliens actually showing up as glowing cubes of varying sizes, put together as 3-dimensional representations of old school video game characters? Blah Blah living energy something something...shut up and move on! How are they turning real world objects into energy cubes, effectively pixilating aircraft, buildings and people? I said living energy! Okay, so how do we defeat them? Energy cannons! Great. 

I'm actually fine with that. Science-fiction doesn't necessarily have to be real, genuine, believable, provable science. What it does have to be, however, is consistent. Set up the rules to your universe and then abide by them. There are so many plot holes, questions, and inconsistencies in this film that are just never addressed. It's like being shushed by Louise from Bob's Burgers and told to not worry about it, it's Art Crawl.

None of the alien stuff makes any sense. (Mild spoilers ahead) The aliens took the footage of video games as a declaration of war. Now they are attacking Earth with video games. They transmit the rules of their attack via creepy Clutch Cargo mouthed 1980's icons, (Reagan, Madonna, Hall and Oates, et al) and tell the world that they have three lives, much like an old video game, and there will be more attacks. Beat the video games, beat the aliens, save the world. 

Okay. So, now there are rules. First attack: Guam. Galaga. The little bug characters wreak havoc. Earth is the player of the game, the aliens are the enemies. Second attack: Agra, India. The Taj Mahal. Arkanoid paddles show up and Breakout the shit out of it. So, how does that follow the rules of video games? In Arkanoid, the PLAYER is the paddle, and breaks the bricks, which aren't really enemies, they just kinda sit there. I guess in Arkanoid the enemy is the pit? So, how was Earth supposed to defend itself against that, within the rules of that particular video game? Also, Arkanoid was released in 1986, and the footage the aliens got and took for a declaration of war was from 1982, SO HOW DID THEY EVEN KNOW ABOUT IT ANYWAY?

Further, (more spoilers) the fourth attack is Pacman. The Arcaders (Sandler and crew, replete with stupid NASCAR-esque jumpsuits) are somehow the ghosts vs Pacman. If they are supposed to be the player, with the aforementioned three lives, how are they now the ghosts versus Pacman? Now they're driving Mini Coopers fitted with science stuff (about as far as the explanation goes) and going after Pacman, who has presumably been destroying New York while they got the cars ready.

The film keeps enforcing that the reason why Sandler is so good at the old games is because he was great at recognizing the patterns. It's how he recognized Galaga, and more specifically, 1982 Galaga, which contained a glitch in the patterns. It's why he's even involved with the defense of Earth in the first place. It's the patterns that enable Sandler to defeat the aliens when they send Centipede. Over and over, the film reinforces the fact that these guys are good is because of the patterns. Now, he has to drive through the crowded streets of New York as the ghosts from Pacman trying to beat Pacman, which is controlled by the players in the original game, and therefore has no pre-programmed pattern! 

Also, how are they all super awesome race drivers now? Even worse, after this battle, somehow it is revealed that Dinklage used cheat codes during the Pacman game and therefore the world is doomed! What exactly are the rules, anyway? Also, how can you use a cheat code from a video game while you're driving a Mini Cooper around New York? That's not how cheat codes work. I can't just yell out “UP UP DOWN DOWN LEFT RIGHT LEFT RIGHT B A START!” before getting shot in the face and expect to have 30 lives.

Pixels is a mess. Rules are set up and then broken. The science barely exists at all. The character arcs are all just a grab bag of standard Sandler plot points: lovable loser becomes hero, jerk cheater has a change of heart, nerd sings inappropriately at fancy function, recently heartbroken character finds love again—you know the deal. 

It exists solely to bring old school video game characters to life on the big screen. It's a sequence of admittedly beautiful animated set pieces held together by a razor thin plot and a few fart jokes. Just don't ask it any questions.

—Eric Harrelson