Digger or: How I Learned To Except The End is Nigh

A review/analysis of the 2026 film Digger directed by Alejandro G. Inarritu
SPOILERS AHEAD

Part 1. Soothsayer
Alejandro G. Iñárritu's name has grown in popularity over the past few decades, especially in the United States, with films like Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance), starring Michael Keaton, The Revenant, starring Leonardo DiCaprio, and now Digger, starring Tom Cruise.
I wasn't into films or cinema when either Birdman or The Revenant came out, but I do have a funny story about watching Birdman for the first time. I'm a highly skeptical person, especially when it comes to artistic works or what people say are great artistic works, because when you consume so much media, like books, music, movies, and any other kind of art, you start to realize that only a small percentage of it can truly be called "groundbreaking, 10/10, perfect."
Around 2018, I had subscribed to some TV provider that gave me free HBO movie channels. One of those channels was a Hispanic heritage channel that showed Spanish-dubbed movies and documentaries. It was showing Birdman on repeat for a while, so one day I decided, why not give it a try?
While watching Birdman, I was immediately enthralled by the whole "one continuous take" style the film was edited with, as well as the incredible solo drumming score. But what was even more captivating was Michael Keaton's performance. Like many others, I grew up watching the early Batman movies as a kid because I was obsessed with Batman. And who could forget Beetlejuice?
To me, as well as many others, Michael Keaton was an actor who entertained us in the past. But because of how Hollywood works, many older actors find it hard to find work due to the rigid movie scripts that always revolve around the same things: young people in love, coming of age, or finding where you belong as a young adult. So an older actor will usually get the leftovers.
In Birdman, however, Iñárritu, instead of hiding Michael Keaton's insecurities, per se, amplified them for the benefit of the story. It's a script about an older actor who used to be part of a superhero/comic book movie franchise and is now struggling to stay relevant, make money, and also please critics so he doesn't become an old celebrity cliché.
It seemed so META to me that it almost felt like I wasn't watching a movie, but rather, as if I were a fly on the wall, if you will, observing this actor's private life. The real-life parallels to Michael Keaton's life were evident, and the ending of Birdman seems almost ambiguous within the film's universe. But when you view it from a real-world perspective, it's almost as if Iñárritu said, "Michael Keaton's finally free to fly and find projects that can excite him artistically rather than be typecast forever."
You can say I'm maybe reading too much into it, but you can't argue that after Birdman, we saw a Michael Keaton resurgence, with him appearing in movies like Spotlight (2015), The Founder (2016), and even returning to those two classic characters, Batman and Beetlejuice.
I'm not saying that Iñárritu had everything, or even anything, to do with that, but it definitely helped amplify the movie Birdman to a higher artistic level.
Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance) (2014) — Promotional poster. Fox Searchlight Picture Birdman (2014) — Poster design by BLT Communications. Fox Searchlight Pictures. Source: https://coll
The Revenant was interesting to me as well. Casting Leonardo DiCaprio usually means he'll be someone charismatic and rich, like in The Wolf of Wall Street; an attractive man in a classic love story, like in Romeo + Juliet or Titanic; and, of course, a leading man in an action flick, like in Inception or Django Unchained.
All of those movies are great in their own way, but the difference between them and Alejandro G. Iñárritu's The Revenant is that Leo has nothing to fall back on. No wealth, because he's a normal working man hunting for fur pelts in the cold, desolate parts of Canada. No charismatic or humorous monologues, because he doesn't speak for over half the film after being attacked by a bear and having his throat cut open. He's not playing a young lover, but instead a man whose Native American wife was murdered, leaving him to raise his half-Native American son on his own, surrounded by men who are actively racist toward Native Americans.
He is a leading man, but not with a crazy sci-fi twist. Just himself, nature, and the cruel reality of this world.
Again, Iñárritu uses an actor who benefits the story within the script and its universe, but also in the real world.
I can't forget to mention the surrealist moments that occur during both The Revenant and Birdman. Those moments are like the glue holding all the important scenes together, intertwining reality and imagination, the human world and the spiritual.
I wouldn't say I'm a huge Leonardo DiCaprio fan because he's this sort of poster-boy Hollywood actor in his prime whose personal life has caused some controversy here and there. That's why his performance in The Revenant seems more interesting and almost one of a kind within his career.
I know this is a Digger review, but trust me, I'm about to get there.
To me, Birdman, The Revenant, and Digger seem almost like a strange trilogy of sorts. Michael Keaton in Birdman represents the past, with him being an actor struggling with his current situation because of his popularity in the past. The Revenant, with Leonardo DiCaprio, represents the present, with Leo having been in his prime for a long time and people constantly excited to see what he'll be in next.
And now, finally, Tom Cruise in Digger.
Tom Cruise represents the end. He's almost this immortal personification of the movie industry and Hollywood as a whole. Some people go as far as to say he's the reason Hollywood and cinemas are still alive after COVID.
Who else could Iñárritu pick to represent this larger-than-life character who has had everything but, at the same time, risked so much and is still not satisfied?
WHO ELSE COULD DIGGER HAVE BEEN PLAYED BY?
No one but Tom Cruise.

Part 2. Dig Or Die
I've had a love/hate relationship with Tom Cruise as a person. Like I said before, I wasn't into films or cinema until pretty recently. Of course, I had seen some Tom Cruise movies, like the first couple of Mission: Impossible films, Minority Report, and Tropic Thunder, but I was always hesitant to give him my full attention because of his odd antics off-screen.
Scientology is still something that bothers me about him to this day, along with the odd interviews he would give about past relationships and this sort of uncanny valley feeling I get from his explosive laughs and smiles. It was so odd that, apparently, Christian Bale took inspiration from some of Cruise's interviews for his satirical character in American Psycho, studying his strange laugh and mannerisms.
Tom Cruise the actor, however, is almost someone completely different.
I can't stress enough how much Tom Cruise actually cares about every aspect of filmmaking. Even though he's an actor, he constantly talks about how he loves learning about camerawork, talking with directors, studying characters deeply, and speaking with his co-stars. All of these things sound like very obvious things any actor should do, but Tom Cruise almost makes it his mission to challenge himself in every movie.
When Alejandro G. Iñárritu's newest film was announced, and I saw that Tom Cruise was leading it, I knew it would be something interesting. It almost instantly became my most anticipated watch of 2026.
Then the trailer came out earlier this year, and I was kind of disappointed with how it looked. The monochrome look definitely seems off when you watch a trailer on your phone. I did like how the trailer gave me almost no information about the movie, something that apparently other people didn't like.
Release week had finally approached, and I started seeing early reviews pop up on my Letterboxd…
People were HATING IT.
Like I said before, I'm a highly skeptical person, but I also enjoy watching and experiencing a movie even if the reviews are bad. I hardly ever tell someone NOT to watch a movie unless it's truly terrible.
So, on release day, it was a dark and rainy day in Texas.
I sat down to watch Digger….

Part 3. It Doesnt Matter
Socrates is so influential in philosophy that we have a "pre-Socratic" and "post-Socratic" era, a way to show just how much Socrates shifted the landscape of philosophy at that time. I believe Digger is that, but for political satires.
I finished watching Digger that day, and it completely changed the chemicals in my brain. When it was over, I felt extremely excited about what I had just witnessed, almost as if someone had taken my subconscious thoughts and played them out on the screen.
I wrote this part of the review after watching the movie three times, and every single time, I noticed new things I had missed. It's definitely one of those movies that you have to rewatch to get the complete effect.
Okay, so what is Digger? And why is it a big deal?
Digger, the movie, analyzes how art interacts with the world in 2026 and how we, as artists, critics, and humans, react to it.
The script is about this guy, Digger Rockwell, played by Tom Cruise, who is a comical, stereotypical oil baron. He does what a businessman does, which is cut deals with the government to operate in ethically questionable ways. He drills for oil in Greenland and ignores the warnings that scientists give him in favor of profits.
Early in the film, there's an explosion caused by methane gases being released into the atmosphere. Of course, he freaks out. The United States government holds a meeting with Digger and forms a plan not to warn Europe about the iceberg heading its way, but merely to deflect and suppress knowledge of said iceberg.
Then the big twist of the movie occurs.
This movie isn't just a movie; it's a play about what already happened. The iceberg hit Europe, flooded the world, economies collapsed, and the damage done to the Earth is irreversible.
I thought that part of the script was brilliant because, on a second viewing, the way the actors moved and how the sets were designed made it look like a play. It didn't look that way on my first watch, at least not to me, because your expectation is that it's a political satire about stupid people doing stupid things.
So now your expectations have been shattered.
Later in the film, Tom Cruise becomes upset that the characters in the play are written too goofily and that certain creative liberties have been taken that he doesn't agree with. That's when the second twist occurs, and Jesse Plemons reveals that he is the real-life nephew of Digger Rockwell. He goes on a monologue explaining how the way the actors and director are executing the play DOESN'T MATTER.
To me, it was pretty obvious that after the first twist happened and our expectations were flipped on their heads, it was almost as if we were the ones being watched by the movie.
We were thinking to ourselves: Does the twist work? Is the overacting valid? Are the characters annoying?
Jesse Plemons directly answers those questions: It doesn't matter.
He continues by saying that he bought the rights to the play, called Fossil Fools, and decided to produce the movie because he wanted to control the narrative, just like his uncle had done many years ago with information about climate change.
Of course, in the movie, he makes it seem like he's doing the right thing by showing the world how dumb his family was and how equally stupid the world was to believe Digger as he tried to justify his actions.
But therein lies the real meat and potatoes of the story.
I think a lot of people disliked this movie because they got stuck at the first twist. The first part represents the fiction that people create to mock reality. The second part represents viewing said creation, in this case, the play being produced. And the third part represents how we react to fiction and nonfiction.
Jesse Plemons is telling us how we, the people, hold the power to change reality. That is why he produced the play. If you control the narratives, then you control people's reactions to them.
He experienced firsthand what the carelessness of his family created, so he almost perfected their wickedness. Instead of creating a documentary about what had happened or taking responsibility, he found out that he owns a surveillance company, is still extremely wealthy, and now has the power to help shape how people will view his family.
As a joke, yes, but by playing with their emotions so they can move on with their day.
If all of this sounds familiar, it's because it's currently happening in our world.
The film ends with people giving the performance a standing ovation. We see the outside world, which was purposefully hidden from us until the very end, and we learn what reality looks like: military robots policing, drones monitoring people as they walk down the streets, and the world in chaos.
The end credits repeat the dangerous air quality level alarm, so as we, the audience in real life, walk out, we're heading into our reality, which is the same as the film's…
After my first viewing, I got out of the theater, and it was still raining. That coincidental situation really had an effect on me. Even after the film was over, I kept getting reminded of what the real world is.
Even weeks later, I get on social media, watch some news, or watch other films, and I still get reminded of Digger.
Alejandro G. Iñárritu and company created a modern masterpiece, not just because it's a great movie, but also because it finally showed people that simply creating satires, making art that criticizes politics, and even critiquing said art doesn't matter.
Why?
Because we're not actually fixing the real problem. We're continuing to add to the problem because we're unable to physically change it. We can only write about it to make ourselves feel comfortable again and avoid taking action against those who are contributing to the decay of the planet.
Digger is not a warning. It's not a satire about how things were bad in the past and now they're good. It's about how we have failed to stop injustices from taking place.
We have to accept that the end is nigh.

Part 4. Level 4...
I mentioned earlier how these movies felt like a trilogy to me. Birdman represents the past, with its main plot dealing with introspection about one's purpose in life after fame. The Revenant represents the present, with a character dealing with the reality of the world, and Digger represents the future and the end.
Art created after Digger will have to compete with it, just as Socrates changed philosophy. Every political satire now has to compete with Digger.
And then there are the three actors.
Michael Keaton represents the famous actor of the past, Leo represents the famous actor of the present, and Tom Cruise represents the future, someone who will transcend Hollywood itself.
Michael Keaton received an Oscar nomination for Birdman. Leo won an Oscar for The Revenant. What will Tom Cruise receive?
Art is something extremely complicated to define. Our current political situations reflect what was shown in Digger, and I hope that it truly isn't too late to act.
Even though the film ends in a pretty bleak way, we can also take it as a sign that there's nowhere to go but up if we're truly at rock bottom.
It's true that art cannot save the world on its own, and satires can't undo what has already happened, but maybe art can deeply affect future generations and inspire them to take action.
Thank you, Iñárritu.


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