Think way, way back to the summer of 1996, the first time a multiplex screen was filled with the image of Tom Cruise crossing his elbow in front of his face to make it appear as if he was removing a ludicrously lifelike rubber mask. Sure, there was cause to believe that Cruise might return to the role of Ethan Hunt in a sequel or two, though his string of sizable hits to that point hadn’t yet inspired a repeat performance. But the notion that Cruise would still be engaging in that sort of catastrophe-evading derring-do some thirty years later, after the crossing the threshold into his sixties, it would have seemed, well, impossible. Right?

Yet, here we are, inundated with commands that popcorn must be consumed before the kinetic spectacle of Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning, the eighth film that sends the agents of the Impossible Missions Force pinballing across the globe in pursuit of some MacGuffin that is a threat to all mankind. In this instance, the mythic menace is a piece of megalomaniacal A.I. known as the Entity, the same troublesome tech that spurred the action in Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One. Ethan and his team are trying to contain the binary-code beast before it can commandeer all the nuclear arsenals of all thusly equipped nations and launch missiles to decimate the human population.

As usual, the plot particulars of the film are merely the necessary sinew to bind together the muscular set pieces. No matter how much time the characters spend spouting and then repeating (and repeating, and repeating) exposition, the pieces of the film that really stick are the absurd stunts and action sequences. Ethan Hunt is sent to the deepest depths to salvage a computer component from a sunken submarine and goes high in the air to dangle off the wings and landing gear of a buzzing biplane. Punches are thrown, engines are revved, countdown clocks are eyed warily, and suspensions of disbelief are sorely tested. Four films deep into his tenure as keeper of the franchise, writer-director Christopher McQuarrie (and, amazingly, collaborating with Cruise for at least the tenth time) simply knows how to make these movies. If Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning isn’t always satisfying, it is consistently enjoyable.

Although Cruise has been coy about the accuracy of the finality promised by the film’s title, it does really feel like this should be the last mission. Cruise’s indefatigable spirit notwithstanding, he is starting to look a little too weathered to bang around to the degree required. More worrisomely, McQuarrie and his collaborators (including, this time out, credited co-screenwriter Erik Jendresen) are starting to repeat themselves. I don’t really need to watch any more characters defuse cylindrical, silver bombs. There are still sparks of inspiration throughout, especially in some of the sneakily barbed subtextual commentary. Most of the subsidiary characters who operate with a mode of idling heroism are women, and they are often forced to contend with or simply ignore panicky, emotional men. By including delusional adherents to the Entity’s scheme who are robustly cheering for their own destruction, it’s hard to ignore parallels to the modern political landscapes.

Considering the mighty mechanics that go into these films, maybe the most admirable aspect of McQuarrie’s approach to Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning is that he provides narrative space for more human moments. That’s seen in the return of Rolf Saxon as character not seen since the first installment, in the warm interactions between the longtime cast members, and the endless variety of you-want-me-to-do-what-now? expressions offered by Hayley Atwell as Grace, the pickpocket turned neophyte secret agent. In contrast, the valedictory elevation of Ethan Hunt into a weirdly messianic figure of unassailable nobility is deeply unpleasant, even before taken into account that such veneration mirrors Cruise’s place in his disturbing, cult-like religion of choice. McQuarrie does better when he takes every hairpin turn of the plot with a steadfast devotion to maximizing the entertainment value. The cinematic mission doesn’t need to be important; the mandate is merely that it’s fun. That strikes me as a sturdy truth. Most often than not, McQuarrie accepts it.