Jack Reacher (Christopher McQuarrie 2012)

and so anyway it turns out that the best thing about Jack Reacher (2012) – especially since diminutive star and producer Tom Cruise either can’t or won’t follow the rather sage advice hidden in the title of the currently-filming sequel Jack Reacher: Don’t Go Back – is not the clattering sub-Bourne car chase in which our tiny hero careens off cars and kerbs because he is not tall enough to simultaneously reach the pedals and see over the dashboard, but the look on the bantam face of the literally pocket-sized Cruise, so tiny you really can pick him up and carry him around in your breast pocket like a half-smoked Panatela or flashlight pen, when, on what was obviously the first day of shooting, it suddenly dawned on him that he had bought the rights to a series of rather ordinary thrillers featuring a six foot five, 220+ pound Aryan wet-dream of a man, rather than the heart-warming (and, to iddy-biddy Tom, profoundly resonant) triumph-over-adversity tale of a small boy who, like the Lilliputian star, would stretch and stretch and stretch but still not be able to get onto the sofa without being lifted…