Cannes Diary 02: On the side of Tom Cruise

From a revealing and free-flowing conversation at Cannes today, the impression I got of Christopher McQuarrie,the acclaimed writer-director and creative force behind many of Tom Cruise's biggest hits, was of a compelling and fascinating personality. What emerged was a portrait of a man unflinchingly candid, at times almost brutal in detailing his own perceived limitations and failures, who also spoke with deep loyalty about Cruise, the figure he credits as the enabler of his remarkable career. Here are 8 key insights from his remarks:

1- On the moral ambiguity of his characters:

People often mention moral ambiguity in my work, but I've always felt my characters are quite certain where they stand morally, whether that's moral or amoral. The ambiguity, I believe, stems from not delving much into backstory. I prefer to meet characters in real time, discovering them as the story unfolds, so perhaps their motives appear ambiguous.

As for any film noir sensibility, I grew up watching films from the '40s and '50s, unlike many of my peers who grew up on '70s cinema. I was so unaware of this influence that after shooting The Usual Suspects, I told a filmmaker friend I wanted to make a film noir someday. He replied, 'You realize you just did?' It hadn't occurred to me until that moment.

2- On competition in contemporary Hollywood:

One significant problem with contemporary Hollywood is that it has evolved into a competition—about who pressures whom and for how much. We shouldn't be competing; we should be serving one another and the mechanism of cinema itself. If everyone does that, we all benefit.

Top Gun: Maverick is a deposit. We aim to bring as many people into theaters as possible to keep the mechanism thriving, so films like Anora can have a theatrical run and find their audience. That's why Tom promotes movies others might see as competition. We aren't competing with anyone. Tom Cruise competes only with himself. We understand that nobody wins unless everybody wins.

I worry that even large tentpole movies, while attracting big audiences, often cater to isolated fanbases for a specific brand. This doesn't enrich the audience's understanding of cinema; it can cut them off from its history. Streamers could help by not just pushing their own content on the homepage but also by promoting classic cinema. Many people I meet haven't heard of The Best Years of Our Lives or seen Cool Hand Luke. Their film history might start with Star Wars.

So, claims of 'saving cinema' sound a bit hollow when, intentionally or not, cinema's history is being buried under layers of contemporary content. If you want to save the concept of cinema, promote it, resurrect it. Great films deserve to be seen.

3- On the reality check from Benicio del Toro before The Way of the Gun:

When I made The Way of the Gun, I was trying to make anything but that film. Post-Usual Suspects, Benicio and I were floundering, struggling to find work. I kept pitching ambitious films I probably wasn't qualified to make—thankfully, they didn't happen. Studios kept pushing me towards crime films because I was 'the Usual Suspects guy,' but I resisted.

One day, lamenting our unemployment over coffee, Benicio said, 'It seems to me that if you want to say something, that’s the only way they’ll let you say it.' Then, over lunches, my wife told us about a Hollywood executive who’d hired a surrogate mother for his wife to preserve her figure and had bodyguards protecting the surrogate 24/7. We thought, 'That's who they should kidnap.' That’s how the story came about.

But I was still frustrated, and what you see in that movie is me attacking the genre I felt forced into. Crime films had become hip and glib, celebrating violence. I decided if I had to make a crime film, it would be about actual criminals, and if there was violence, there would be a price. Unfortunately, the audience didn’t love that. I made a film deliberately forcing the audience to concentrate, and they rejected it. It was a valuable lesson; I learned more from that film's failure than from the success of any film I've made since.

4- On how Tom Cruise saved his career:

When I met Tom, I was quitting the movie business. I met him strictly out of curiosity, truly on my way out. I was surprised to find that the Tom Cruise I knew from movies and publicity was very different. We loved the same films, grew up on them, and under very similar circumstances.

What made us compatible was our love for cinema and, as I've learned from working with him for so long, Tom is always a student. Despite his long career, he’s eager to learn from those around him and is very generous. When you're making a Tom Cruise movie, it's not him saying, 'No, here's how you do it.' It's Tom empowering you, asking, 'What do you want to do?' That spotlight, when it first turns on you, is incredibly intense and clarifying. You learn to swim very quickly.

5- On the basic ingredients of an action scene:

Clarity and geography are our mantra. To me, they are the essence of action, even before suspense. In Mission: Impossible – Fallout, we had little time to shoot a gunfight. I thought I'd try the shaky, handheld cam to create an incomprehensible action sequence. I tried, but I can't do it—it's an art form, and my hat's off to those who can. I immediately felt lost. I realized I was communicating only energy, which is great for certain sequences, but it comes at the expense of character. Clarity and geography exist to serve character and keep you connected to them. To us, action without character is just spectacle.

6- On the unique experience of shooting with Tom Cruise:

There's a particular challenge: if I were shooting a sequence like this with anyone other than Tom, my job would be to hide the fact that it's not the actor, using stunt doubles and camera tricks. With Tom, the challenge is constantly reminding the audience it is him. This determines every camera position and rig. Imagine setting a camera, then the set rotates—like in the submarine sequence—it won't be where you put it when Tom gets there. A talented team had to anticipate where to put the camera so it was always capturing Tom. That’s a level of engineering you can't imagine.

Now, put that on the wing of a biplane with Tom. When we designed that sequence, we consulted professional wing walkers. Tom said, 'I want to be zero-G between the wings.' They said, 'No, you're not going to do that.' Tom thanked them, and we found others. What you'll see is what they said couldn't be done. This represents thousands of hours of work from craftsmen, pilots, engineers, and decades of learning to develop these things.

As filmmakers, when plans change—a sunny day turns rainy, a camera breaks—we don't see it as a disruption but as an opportunity to create something more interesting. On Edge of Tomorrow, the heavy suit was never supposed to be like that, but we worked with it, designing its motion to serve story and character. Often, our favorite movie moments are discoveries born from things going wrong. We embrace these as opportunities.

Most critically, none of this amounts to anything without emotion. Over the four Mission films we've done together, bringing in more emotional arcs and life to the characters has become an increasingly important part of the storytelling. That's why these movies have expanded—not just because the action got bigger, but because the tapestry of those characters has deepened."

7- On foolishly proposing the craziest stunt of Dead Reckoning

The craziest stunt in this movie—and there are many, you'll know it when you see it—towards the very end of the film, was the result of my foolishly showing Tom a TikTok video, thinking he’d simply be amused. He said, 'I could do that.' I said, 'No, you can't.' He said, 'Yes.' And then we developed the process to do it. I'm often asked if Tom suggests something I say no to, or if I regret suggesting things to Tom. Yes, in the midst of those sequences, like when he's on the wing of the plane! (laughs)

The fun of our back-and-forth is that we start these movies by asking each other, 'What do you want to do with this one?' I knew I wanted a submarine sequence from where the last movie left off, and a wing-walking sequence. It’s in the midst of those sequences, when you're being utterly crushed by your ambitions, that the one whose idea it wasn't turns to the one whose idea it was and says, 'You wanted this! This was your idea!' Yes, our ideas come back to teach us a lesson or two.

8- On the most important words in every Mission: Impossible

Delivering exposition compellingly is always one of the hardest things. Our writer, Erik Jendresen, noted four very important words: 'choose,' 'accept,' and then 'good luck.' He pointed out that this entire franchise is about choice and acceptance. I’d say the entire process of filmmaking is about choice and acceptance. That, and the motif of 'good luck,' became incorporated into the DNA of the story.

Going back to Bruce Geller's TV show, the idea of this secret government agency ending every message with 'should you choose to accept it'—empowering that person, not ordering them—was an offer, almost a prayer. And then offering 'good luck' felt completely human.

The reason I’m getting emotional is because of how many times those concepts hit us in the face while making this movie during a global pandemic and two industry strikes, when it felt like the art form we were making it for was facing extinction. And it's here because of the efforts of this man at my side. I was a fly on the wall for all of that and watched it happen firsthand. It doesn't happen without you, my friend. Thank you very much.

Comments

[thevoid99]

So Christopher McQuarrie, what does Tom Cruise's asshole taste like?