Because the world was just missing a film where Tom Cruise plays a billionaire businessman who causes an environmental calamity and then has to fix it, Digger is coming to a theater near you. Cruise, known for his daredevil stunts and penchant for playing characters who save the world (seriously, how many times has he done this now?), undergoes a radical physical transformation to play the lead role. He’s gray, balding, paunchy, and speaking with a thick accent because, you know, that’s exactly what the world needs – another “transformative” performance from an A-list actor.
The film is co-written and directed by Alejandro G. Iñárritu, the man behind Birdman and The Revenant, because who better to helm a project that’s clearly swinging for the fences (with a shovel) than an acclaimed director with a penchant for big, awards-contending performances? It’s not like the film’s trailer screams “Oscar bait” or anything.
The Plot Thickens (Or At Least, It Attempts To)
The official synopsis for Digger reads like a laundry list of every “save the world” trope: the most powerful man in the world (Cruise) embarks on a frantic mission to prove he’s humanity’s savior before the disaster he’s unleashed destroys everything. Because, you know, that’s never been done before. The film boasts an impressive cast, including Oscar winner Riz Ahmed, John Goodman, Oscar nominee Sandra Hüller, Michael Stuhlbarg, and Oscar nominee Jesse Plemons, because when you’re trying to save the world, you need all the talent you can get.
As the October 2 release date approaches, one can’t help but wonder if Digger will be the film that finally solves the world’s problems (spoiler alert: it won’t). But hey, at least we’ll get to see Tom Cruise running around, saving the world one environmental calamity at a time. Because that’s what the world really needs – more Tom Cruise.
Aistic Nostalgia and the Annual Nostalgia Harvest
It’s no secret that Hollywood loves to dip into the nostalgia well, and Digger is no exception. With its apparent nods to Stanley Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove, one can’t help but feel like we’ve seen this all before. And we have – in every other film that’s tried to capture the essence of a bygone era. It’s almost as if the Content Mines remain fully operational, churning out idea after idea that’s just a rehashing of something that’s come before. But hey, who needs originality when you can just repackage the past and sell it as something new?
As the marketing machine begins to churn out its usual hyperbolic declarations (this film will “change everything” and is the “most anticipated event of the decade”), one can’t help but feel a sense of exhaustion. Another beloved franchise hasn’t been resurrected (this time), but rather a familiar trope has been extracted from its natural habitat and placed into a new, shiny package. And we’ll eat it up, because that’s what we do. We’ll swallow the nostalgia whole, without ever stopping to think if it’s actually any good. After all, as the Merchandising Department reportedly noted, the real money is in the familiarity, not the originality.
And so, as Digger prepares to hit theaters, one can’t help but wonder what other cliches it will trot out, what other tired plot devices it will employ, and what other ways it will find to save the world (again). But hey, at least Tom Cruise will be there, running around, saving the day, one environmental calamity at a time. Because in the end, that’s all that really matters – not the quality of the film, but the fact that it exists, and that we’ll all be talking about it for weeks to come. Somewhere, a whiteboard contains the words “bigger,” “darker,” and “multiverse,” and an executive is whispering, “Can this become a trilogy?” The answer, of course, is yes. It can. And it probably will. Because in Hollywood, that’s just how things are done.
Finn McFrame, celebrated satirical mastermind and self-proclaimed “Emperor of Irony,” started his illustrious career as a cinematographer, where his expertise in capturing every single frame of a squirrel stealing a baguette earned him accolades at obscure film festivals.
Born in the glamorous town of Boring, Oregon, Finn grew up with dreams of being a Hollywood director until he realized that satire, not cinema, was his true calling—or at least the one that let him sleep until noon.
Finn McFrame: changing the world, one satirical lens flare at a time.
