‘Digger’ review: Tom Cruise’s laugh-free turd will have audiences stampeding out

Movie? Impossible.

Tom Cruise’s latest film, “Digger” — the actor’s first real stinker in nearly 10 years — really is a rage-inducing sit. Not because of the environmental issues it depicts in such a dated and obvious way, but due to a pair of enormous egos being blinded to their baby’s badness.  

You can tell that Cruise, who’s clearly gotten high on all the “last real movie star” headlines, and director Alejandro González Iñárritu of “Birdman” and “The Revenant” think their new film is urgent. And in a way, it is. Audiences will urgently want to leave after the first five minutes.

That’s surprising, since “Digger” has all the makings of a prestige hit: An A-list star covering his handsome face in ugly prosthetics, a big important topic and an auteur who’s won two best director Oscars. Yet if anything, those dutifully checked boxes turn out to be pitfalls. Because what this sorry satire about a Texas oil tycoon and a US president with “cancer of the a–hole” lacks is a single funny joke or even half-believable moment. 

There’s plenty of obnoxious shouting in hokey Southern accents in this insufferable slog, though, and about a hundred indistinguishable grayscale cast members, all of whom look like Jacob Marley’s ghost. I didn’t walk out worried for the planet, however I was gravely concerned for a couple of careers.

“Digger” marks the first time Cruise has played an original title character (“Jack Reacher”’s a novel) since 1996’s “Jerry Maguire.” That marquee choice leads us to believe that Digger Rockwell, the “yee haw!” oil barron, should be a larger-than-life figure destined for classic status. Too bad he’s a silly and annoying sidekick who’s given too much screentime.

Digger’s a shoot first, ask questions later kind of guy. But he shoots himself in the foot when his advisers warn him that there is a growing ice crack at an arctic drilling site that’s leaking methane gas. Uninterested and unbothered, Digger demands they carry on anyway and “bank as much crude as humanly possible before they shut us down again!”.

“A million barrels a day!”, he orders.

Scream, scream, scream. 

But his folly (the word of the day) causes an ice shelf ten times the size of Washington DC to break off and careen toward Europe, where it will cause catastrophic flooding. 

It’s here, only a half hour into this glacially paced tedium parade, that there is a major shift. Warner Bros. has asked critics not to reveal what that twist is, lest we deprive viewers the experience of rolling their eyes and groaning at it.

What the shake-up kicks off, though, is a series of self-protective actions taken by the filmmakers. The audience begins to think that maybe everything we’re seeing is supposed to be awful. Perhaps it’s meant to be dishonest and overplayed. Could it be that the drowsy washed-out color palate doesn’t need to look good onscreen? 

In a similar and delusional meta moment later on, a character asks, “What is this?! Is it funny? Is it supposed to be satire?” That fight is wishful thinking on the part of Iñárritu and his three co-writers. Nobody will be debating this movie. It’s not worth the time.

Back to Digger, I guess.

President Compson (John Goodman) tells the stubborn kingpin to fix the floating berg, which they dub Judy. “If northern Europe gets screwed with its pants on, it’s not my problem!,” the prez yells, because that is all these actors are allowed to do. 

Goodman’s the best part of the movie, but he’s only able to do so much given the constraints. Will Ferrell’s “You’re Welcome, America,” in which he played George W. Bush, looks like “Frost/Nixon” next to this.  

So Digger goes on a journey with a scientist named Ganesh (Riz Ahmed) to try to blow it up. Exciting? Nope. They spend minutes mid-flight discussing the ethics of tuna sushi — another flatlined joke Iñárritu can’t construct.  

Remember, though, that everything you’re seeing isn’t actually what you’re seeing. The trouble with Iñárritu’s pretentious frame story (sorry to be so vague) is that it causes us to not take about 90% of the movie seriously and to zone out for long stretches. There are no stakes to be found and no laughs to be had. There’s certainly no point.

There are other people in this movie, unfortunately for them.

Sandra Hüller is admirably committed as Digger’s half sister Emma. But because this is The Cruise Show, a lot of superb talent is wasted: Ahmed, Michael Stuhlbarg as the VP, Emma D’Arcy as Lina and Jesse Plemons as the mysterious Kenny.  

They’re banished to the periphery in service of a flashy, mediocre central performance that’s this film’s entire reason for being. And this is not simply a case of poor Tom being trapped in a lousy movie. He’s just not very good, even as a cartoony caricature with no depth. Cruise did this kind of thing vastly better when he played Les Grossman in “Tropic Thunder.” I would’ve rather seen Nicholas Cage or Woody Harrelson as Digger.

Cruise should come back to more serious roles after “Mission: Impossible” and “Top Gun.” But “Digger”? Risky business.