Well, it finally happened. Ethan Hunt has hung up his harness and holstered his last gadget, and after nearly 30 years of saving the world with increasingly unhinged stuntwork, Tom Cruise has (sort of) said goodbye. Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning marks the official finale to the greatest action franchise of our time, and like all finales, it arrives with a heavy dose of spectacle, sweat, and sentiment.

A love letter to fans who’ve watched Ethan sprint through explosions, dive off cliffs, and dangle from aircrafts since 1996, when flip phones were cool, and Cruise wasn’t yet a full-time human cannonball.

So... how does the final mission measure up? Let’s debrief.

In true Mission: Impossible fashion, the world is on the brink of total collapse (again), and only one man with a steely stare and death wish can save it (again). This time, Ethan Hunt is up against a rogue AI—an all-seeing, all-knowing digital entity known as "The Entity" (subtle, we know). It’s already infiltrated global systems, turned allies into enemies, and wants to press Ctrl+Alt+Delete on humanity.

To stop it, Ethan and his loyal IMF crew (shoutout to Benji and Luther, our forever tech bros) must hunt down a mysterious key, split into two halves, of course, that holds the power to control or destroy this digital god. Along the way are double-crosses, train-top brawls, ethical dilemmas, and a new recruit named Grace (Hayley Atwell) who steals cars and scenes with equal flair.

The plot is dense like "you-might-want-a-flowchart" dense, but the stakes feel genuinely massive. Is it a little exposition-heavy in the first act? Sure. But once it clicks into gear, Final Reckoning delivers the franchise’s trademark blend of globe-trotting, high-stakes chaos with just the right touch of emotional gravity.

At this point, it’s not even shocking that Tom Cruise does his stunts. What is shocking is that he continues to find new, even more unhinged ways to try and kill his character, for our entertainment. Motorcycle off a cliff? Done. Train fight sequence shot practically on a real derailed train? Of course. He’s not acting anymore; he’s just professionally escaping death on screen.

Cruise is 62. Repeat: . While the rest of us ice our knees after a jog, he’s out here redefining physics and action cinema. His Ethan Hunt isn’t just a spy anymore, he’s a cinematic myth. A man who runs like time itself is chasing him, and smiles like he knows this is the last time we’ll see him do it.

Cruise doesn’t just anchor the film, he is the film. There’s real emotion behind the action this time, and that layered, world-weary edge he brings to Hunt adds depth to the dazzle.

From mask reveals to loyalty-tested friendships, the film is filled with Easter eggs for longtime fans. It’s not just a finale—it’s a celebration. Of 30 years of high-stakes spycraft, hallway flips, rubber masks, and that classic DUN-DUN, DUN-DUN that never fails to hit like adrenaline in audio form.

Is Final Reckoning the best of the bunch? Not quite. Rogue Nation and Fallout still hold onto their gold medals. The first act of this one stumbles a bit, tangled in its exposition and haunted by the very obvious absences of Ilsa (Rebecca Ferguson, our queen forever) and Alanna Mitsopolis (Vanessa Kirby, the chaos we love). You miss them. A lot.

But then the film finds its rhythm right around Act 2—and boy, when it soars, it dives into the ocean! The third act is pure popcorn-sweat-suspense. There’s one action sequence so nerve-wracking, I think I briefly forgot my name. It’s the cinematic equivalent of skydiving while solving a Rubik’s cube, and somehow Cruise makes it look easy.

Underneath the explosions and elaborate chase scenes is something rarer in an action blockbuster: heart. This film knows it’s the last rodeo. It treats the franchise—and its hero—with reverence. There are nods to old missions, emotional payoffs, and a sense that Ethan Hunt is finally facing his greatest challenge: closure.

We’ve watched Hunt evolve from a slick, shadowy spy to a self-sacrificing legend. The man has saved the world more times than your Wi-Fi router, and yet, somehow, it never felt tired. Cruise—and McQuarrie—knew exactly how to keep us invested. Not just in the spectacle, but in the soul of it all.

Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning isn’t flawless. It’s not trying to be. It’s trying to be cinema—the kind where the actors bleed (literally), the audience cheers, and the stakes feel sky-high because they are. It’s a love letter to action movies, to impossible missions, and to the idea that some heroes don’t wear capes—they wear harnesses and willingly leap off mountains for our entertainment.

So thank you, Tom. For the jumps, the runs, the bruises, the smirks, and the pure, reckless commitment to movie magic.