More like Jack Creaker, amirite? Yeah, it’s a lousy joke, but then, it’s a lousy movie, and lousy or not, it’s a propos: dated, silly, and more than a little bit cheap. Tom Cruise returns to his embodiment of a mid-century American masculine fantasy: an ex-military superman who’s gotta ramble, no matter how attractive and adoring his co-star (this time, it’s Cobie Smulders as a CO framed for espionage). He likes a little action, but doesn’t want to be tied down — unless maybe he’s fathered a child (Danika Yarosh, a fascinating blend of Jennifer Lawrence and Karen Black). Gotta do the right thing, after all, even if the right thing means a boring gender-roles argument between Cruise and Smulders about who should guard the kid, followed immediately by the plot-demands-it decision to leave the kid totally unguarded. Notable chiefly for director Edward Zwick’s utter failure to make New Orleans look any more enticing and atmospheric than, say, Omaha. (2016) — Matthew Lickona
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