Digger
Film
The most powerful man in the world embarks on a frantic mission to prove he is humanity’s savior before the disaster he’s unleashed destroys everything.
(1) Not every film needs to be liked, and a filmmaker should not be immune from criticism. Audiences and critics are under no obligation to embrace a film, just as filmmakers are under no obligation to cater to their approval. (2) On the flip side, a filmmaker is certainly entitled to pursue their own creative ambitions and vision, regardless of whether or not it resonates with others. Sometimes a film simply isn’t for you, and sometimes that is precisely the point.
These two guiding principles are not mutually exclusive, nor should they be. Artistic freedom doesn’t guarantee artistic success, just as a film’s failure to connect with its audience doesn’t necessarily constitute artistic failure. But there’s an equally unconvincing impulse to then swing in the complete opposite direction and declare something a masterpiece simply because it dares to be different. Taking a big swing is not, in itself, an artistic accomplishment, and provocation doesn’t automatically translate to profundity.
Safe to say that Digger is not a film for everyone, nor is it immune from criticism, as is its unapologetic director, Alejandro González Iñárritu. The film’s lofty ambitions and near-nauseating vanity often get the better of it, resulting in something that feels more than a little pretentious, less than a little incoherent, and ultimately less successful, commercially and critically, than the creative forces behind the film are willing to admit or accept. And yet, there’s something to be said for its willingness to make a mess of itself in pursuit of some deeper truth. I’m still not entirely sure if Digger is for me or not, but I am compelled to give it some extra slack for not being just a predictable regurgitation of something safe or familiar.
Spoilers aplenty
Digger follows a billionaire oil tycoon whose most recent business venture leads to an environmental catastrophe with serious geopolitical ramifications. The film is a thinly veiled critique of the ultra-elite and the deeply dysfunctional systems that protect the world’s wealthiest and most powerful people at the expense of everyone else and the world around them. It’s an absurdist satire that reckons with corporate greed and political corruption, full of social finger-pointing and media manipulation as the world is on the brink of destruction. Sound eerily familiar? Unfortunately, Digger sounds better on paper than it plays out on screen. Even though the film has some clever turns and is more dynamic and multi-layered than it initially appears to be, I can’t say it gets around to saying anything all that illuminating or inspiring. A film like this doesn’t need to offer practical solutions for the issues it is interrogating, but you would expect (or certainly hope) that the satire it employs be at least sharp if not scathing. While Digger is rich in themes, it is poor in substance, or maybe just seems like it is more interested in looking like it has something to say than actually saying it (we’ll come back to this idea shortly).
How have I gotten this far without really talking about Tom Cruise? Wait a second – did I just bury the lede alive or make an unintentionally honest attempt at legitimate film analysis?! Who among us can say for sure? You can’t really have a conversation about what Digger means without digging into what the film means as an opportunity for Cruise (and there you have it, I’m immediately back on my bullshit and making a meal off of B-tier puns). He’s been more or less allergic to taking on this kind of artistic risk and overexposure for the last twenty years. During that time, he’s maintained a healthy diet of literal risk-taking that has put his mortal life in danger time and time again – his entire second life as a movie star has been about living on the edge to titillate his audience and pushing the limits on what felt like his own death wish. That may sound like a passive insult, but it really isn’t.
For one reason, or for many reasons, Cruise took on the persona of a cinematic Evil Knievel: an actor by trade with the soul of a stuntman. His films became less about the “what” and more about the “how.” As his movie stardom became one of the most reliable brands in Hollywood, he became more and more interested in pushing the upper limits of what it means to be a bankable movie star as opposed to really challenging himself as an actor. But hey, look at what he gave us? Just a few years ago, Top Gun: Maverick was one of the biggest films of the 2020s so far, and while the Mission: Impossible franchise was eventually bogged down by the insatiable appetite of chasing the bigger and bolder, Mission: Impossible – Fallout is still one of the best top-to-bottom action films of the 21st century. But as the great Neil Young once lamented, there “comes a time.”
Inevitably, stardom burns at its hottest before it begins to fade (I’m not sure if that is even true but it sounds good). Cruise’s recent rejuvenation at the center of movie culture is hardly sustainable for a 64-year-old actor flying and jumping out of airplanes. While Cruise has absolutely nothing to prove to anyone (except maybe to himself) given that he has had one of the most successful careers of any actor ever (not even hyperbole at this point), he still must have a chip on his shoulder: as we’ve covered before, he has never won a competitive Academy Award! He has earned four nominations, one as a producer for Top Gun: Maverick, and three acting nominations, the most recent of which was for his supporting performance in Magnolia, which came back a quarter century ago. Sure, he received an Academy Honorary Award last year, but to a world-conquering figure like Cruise, he understands that it doesn’t quite hit the same as being recognized by your peers. So, when Digger was announced back in 2024, there was immediate excitement that Vintage Cruise was going back to his roots and taking a big swing at Best Actor with a historically Oscar-friendly director in Iñárritu – remember, he almost got Michael Keaton an Oscar for Birdman and then immediately followed that up by helping Leonardo DiCaprio get his first-ever win for The Revenant.
But unlike those two films, Digger is not a film that exists to explore the “what,” nor is it really interested in the “how” – it is a film about the “why.” As I alluded to earlier, the pretense of “why” this film exists is more about its desire to showcase the full range of its lead performer than it is about making some kind of important statement. Digger is designed to talk around the issues it's tackling rather than facing them head-on – which again, isn’t necessarily a failure but is certainly an important distinction to make when talking about its merits and shortcomings. Ergo, de facto, we need to call a spade a spade here: Digger was reverse-engineered to provide an opportunity for Tom Cruise to get nominated for and to win an Oscar. It isn’t a bold, progressive critique of our modern times – it is a glorified vanity project with a lot of finger-wagging. Until you fully grasp that as the film’s raison d’être, there is no point in digging into this film any deeper (my puns don’t quit).
To wrap up, Digger doesn’t really come together as a film, but it does succeed in platforming its lead actor at the top of the call sheet. Two things can be true at the same time: yes, it’s a big creative swing that challenges its audience, and no, it is not as smart or insightful as it believes itself to be. No, it is not a masterpiece, but yes, it is worth seeing, especially for audiences who relish this kind of cinematic ambition – whether that be spectacle or perfunctory. While I may align more with its detractors than its defenders, Digger is the kind of culture curio that will pique your interest, even if it doesn’t make a full return on your investment. Dig it up, oh, oh, dig it!
Froth
Every November the same thing happens to me... I realize it's already November. Where did October go?! Apparently, nobody woke me up when September ended. November is the first step into winter, which means its the first step away from autumn. And autumn is one of the best times of year if you enjoy a nice pint of beer. I was lucky enough to down a draft of Revolution's Oktoberfest at a bar last weekend before all the winter ales take over. This is definitely one of the heavier but also sweeter märzens I can remember sampling, which may win over drinkers not normally into the more amber-y and biscuit-y type lager you'd expect from an Octoberfest beer. Like everything Revolution brews, this is a winner. I'll be looking for it again next year.
