How I Learned to stop laughing: "Digger" reinvents Dr. Strangelove for the climate crisis

Rating: ★★★½☆ (3.5 / 5)

Set in an uneasy, plausible near future, Alejandro G. Iñárritu’s Digger takes aim squarely at corporate hubris and impending ecological collapse. At its core, the film is driven by an urgent environmental theme, tracking the frantic ripple effects when unchecked industrial ambition triggers a catastrophic crisis. Yet rather than delivering standard Hollywood disaster spectacle, the film frames its planetary reckoning through an audacious, surrealist lens.   

The biggest draw—and pleasant surprise—is Tom Cruise. After spending the better part of two decades executing death-defying stunts, jumping off cliffs, and sprinting through endless Mission: Impossible set pieces, it is genuinely invigorating to see Cruise acting again. Disappearing under transformative makeup and stripping away his trademark invincible-hero persona, Cruise delivers an unhinged, ego-driven performance that recalls his daring turns in Magnolia and Tropic Thunder rather than Ethan Hunt. He digs into the character’s manic rationalisations and desperate vanity with an appetite we haven't seen from him in years.   

Still, whenever John Goodman steps onto the frame, the entire production tilts on its axis. Playing a beleaguered political powerhouse, a larger than life U.S. President (with more thn a nod to the current President) dealing with the fallout, Goodman steals the show in every single scene. His booming gravitas, rumbling cadence, and weary bewilderment inject an immediate electric charge into the dialogue, providing a formidable, grounded anchor amid the surrounding absurdity.   

Make no mistake: this blend of pitch-black comedy, sharp political satire, and bleak warning tale will severely divide audiences. The comedic tone is uncompromisingly bone-dry. The script is undeniably laced with punchlines and pointed irony, yet in the screening I attended, there wasn't a single audible laugh—only a stunned, dead-silent tension as the bitter edge of the humour settled over the room.   

That frozen dread makes Digger frequently evoke Stanley Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove. It shares Kubrick’s chilling conviction that civilization’s ultimate undoing won't arrive through cosmic bad luck, but through petty squabbles, institutional incompetence, and fragile egos in high-stakes war rooms. While its manic tempo and sprawling narrative indulgences mean not every punch lands cleanly, Digger remains a provocative, high-wire swing that lingers well after the lights come up.