WASHINGTON — In 2014, Doug Liman directed Tom Cruise in “Edge of Tomorrow,” a delightful sci-fi comedy that remains one of the most underrated flicks of the past decade.
This weekend, the duo reunites for the rollicking drug-trafficking flick “American Made.”
Set during the run-up to the Iran-Contra scandal of the 1980s, TWA pilot Barry Seal (Tom Cruise) is recruited by the CIA to fly secret missions to South America. What starts as mere surveillance evolves into drug running and weapons dealings that find him crossing paths with everyone from Pablo Escobar to Manuel Noriega. This allows Barry and his wife Lucy (Sarah Wright) to live lavishly in remote Mena, Arkansas — until it all comes crashing down.
From the opening studio logos, it’s clear this flick isn’t afraid to break some rules and have some self-aware fun. If you liked the “Live, Die, Repeat” antics of “Edge of Tomorrow,” you’ll dig Cruise’s reunion with director Doug Liman, who’s proven he can do comedy (“Swingers”), action (“The Bourne Identity”) and sometimes a little of both (“Mr. & Mrs. Smith”).
In “American Made,” Liman is having an absolute blast with the genre, keeping things moving at a “Goodfellas” clip with flashy edits, electric pacing and a funky soundtrack featuring such gems as Walter Murphy’s “A Fifth of Beethoven” (1976), a disco take on classical music.
Still, Liman’s best choice is the framing device of Cruise documenting his journey on a VHS camcorder. These clips not only elicit the nostalgia of “sex, lies and videotape” (1989), they provide comic relief after tense moments, just like Matt Damon in “The Martian” (2015). Disguising exposition as direct-address narration, it all builds to a finish we don’t see coming.
Of course, none of it would work without Cruise, who reminds us why he’s been such a box office force. It’s great seeing him back in the cockpit decades after “Top Gun” (1986), only this time as a drug-running “maverick.” His charismatic charm is in top form, offering subtle acting choices for laugh-out-loud moments, particularly as his wife asks him for new appliances.
Speaking of his wife, Wright blends a trio of Scorsese roles: Lorraine Bracco in “Goodfellas” (1990), Sharon Stone in “Casino” (1995) and Margot Robbie in “The Wolf of Wall Street” (2013). At times, her presence feels mostly limited to sex appeal, but she’s still effective tapping her foot impatiently on the homefront waiting for Cruise to explain his continued absences.
Perhaps her most crucial function is to spark a family subplot with her reckless brother-in-law J.B. (Caleb Landry Jones). Rather than the creepy brother he played in “Get Out” (2017), this time he’s a mullet-wearing redneck who’s a little too careless with cash, drawing the suspicion of a local detective (Jesse Plemons). When it comes to stooges slipping up, it’s all relative(s).
The way this subplot plays out — setting up expectations then subverting them — is just one of the treats by screenwriter Gary Spinelli (“Stash House”). His script never quite goes where you think, proving consistently engaging as Cruise gets deeper and deeper into his covert obligations. It shows that you don’t sell your soul to the devil up front; rather, it’s a gradual negotiation of casual compromises, routine handshakes and “big little lies” of omission.
This theme burns bright in the devil’s grin of Domhnall Gleeson, who is perfect as the covert CIA agent nicknamed “Schafer.” If you’re not already on the Gleeson fan train after his quiet string of impressive credits in “Ex Machina” (2014), “Brooklyn” (2015) and “The Revenant” (2015), you will be after “American Made.” He’s the corrupt federal glue that holds it together.
The end result is a cynical, damning political commentary disguised as action-comedy. The subtext packs plenty of satirical bite, from President Ronald Reagan pardoning a turkey amid Iran-Contra questions, to Nancy Reagan delivering her “just say no” address while the U.S. trades drugs and arms to the Contras to fight the Sandinistas in Nicaragua. There’s even brief run-ins with Bill Clinton as governor of Arkansas and George W. Bush as a young pilot.
In the end, it’s really nothing we haven’t seen before with hints of Ray Liotta in “Goodellas” (1990), Johnny Depp in “Blow” (2001) and Bryan Cranston in “The Infiltrator” (2016). But instead of Henry Hill going into witness protection upon his arrest, Barry Seal continually receives promotions within the government. This alone is worth the price of admission for “American Made,” an American-made gem that redefines the phrase “pleasantly surprising.”
