‘The future is coming. And you’re not in it.’
When you find yourself becoming obsolete, how do you react? Rage against the dying of the light? Or pass the torch? Pick your cliche. But, if you’re Tom Cruise, there may be another way…
36 years after its predecessor hit the big screen, Cruise returns to the role that turned him into a fully-fledged movie star: Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell. In the 1986 Top Gun, Maverick was a rash young hothead, competing with other young hotheads to be crowned the top pilot in the US Navy’s elite flying squadron. But as the stakes got higher, tragedy struck, and our young hero was forced to learn important lessons about friendship, loyalty and love.
Three decades on, Top Gun: Maverick sees our hero overlooked and underemployed. As top brass push for unmanned drones to take over from pilots, an unexpectedly complex mission gives Maverick a chance to demonstrate the irreplaceability of human instinct, and maybe right a few old wrongs along the way.
Many have pondered the relationship of this movie to its predecessor. Is this a vanity-project; a middle-aged man showing he’s still got it? Is it a rejection of modern niceties, turning its back on these confusing times to embrace the good old days? Or is it a story about letting go of the past; an acknowledgment that sometimes moving forward means moving on?
I think action movies are often a lot smarter than they are given credit for, and none of the above summaries does justice to this clever and passionate film. Gleefully determined to have it both ways, the movie insists on looking to the future while embracing the joy and energy of the past. The opening montage is all fast cuts and dynamism as ‘Danger Zone’ belts out over sun kissed shots of gleaming, speeding aircraft. But as the story progresses, reminders of the past become more poignant. Old patterns emerge as the latest crop of young pilots fall into roles we saw thirty years ago. Hello Iceman! I mean, Hangman! Then Rooster starts playing the piano, and the memories become bittersweet.
The old certainties have fallen away. Technological supremacy over ‘the enemy’ is no longer assured. Indeed, we’re not really sure who the enemy is anymore. There are even lady pilots. Maverick himself has also changed. Still impulsive and reckless, he is now aware that his actions will affect the people around him. And while our man still finds himself at the heart of the action, there’s no getting away from the fact that by the end of the movie all his peers are dead.
The film constantly reiterates that time is slipping away: ‘Your greatest enemy is time.’ ‘It’s time to let go.’ But even when the past is past, it can still cast a shadow. The death of Maverick’s old comrade, Goose, looms over both our hero and Rooster, Goose’s son. Miles Teller is perfect as the young pilot full of fear and anger, desperate to prove himself and so afraid to fail. Maverick gives him confidence to let go and fulfil his potential; Rooster gives Maverick something to believe in – other than himself, of course.
Maverick also learns to stand alone, as Iceman becomes less and less able to cover his back. The only scene with Val Kilmer is gracefully managed and surprisingly moving. Kilmer is visibly unwell, but still an indomitable presence – and the only character in the story able to communicate with Maverick on his own terms.
It was sad to see only one familiar face, as no other cast members from the original found a place here. But casting overall is well handled. Jennifer Connelly doesn’t have much to do, but does the required with grace and charm. Glen Powell is gloriously slappable as Hangman, and no one, NO ONE does authoritative-cranky like Ed Harris. I also found myself rooting for Bob (Lewis Pullman) a bit more than the screenwriters probably intended.
Not to go on, but have I mentioned how astonishing this movie looks? An early sequence sees Maverick hitting Mach 10 in an experimental aircraft. The image of its delicate trail of exhaust marking a graceful arc across the curvature of the earth looked more like a space documentary than an action movie. It was stirring and surprisingly profound – a lone, fragile figure literally making a mark in history. I could try to do justice to the flight-scenes, but words fail. Every action sequence is enthralling – I couldn’t hear a peep from the packed cinema where I watched. It’s all magnificently escapist, but also refined and controlled. There’s no excess or ornamentation, just adrenaline and light, and SPEED!
This is a movie that needs to be seen on the biggest screen possible. It will still be a blast on your tablet at home, but the experience of this in IMAX will make you fall in love with film again. Many action movies slap together a noisy soundtrack with choppy editing and call it a day. But in this beautifully crafted film, every element is orchestrated to put you right in that driving seat. The movie is propulsive and immersive – you’ll honestly need a nap after watching this – yet it never rushes the storytelling, nor loses its sense of place.
But for all the astonishing visuals, it’s the emotional heart of the movie that really hits home. Action movies are criticised for glorifying violence or ego, but I’ve found them surprisingly sincere – valuing friendship, loyalty, sacrifice and family. It can of course feel sentimental or disingenuous or just clumsy. But when done well, these big, unsophisticated ideas can really pack a punch.
And that heartfelt ending really does feel earned: ‘Thank you for saving my life.’ Sometimes it’s the simplest lines that land the hardest. Is it cheesy? Yes. Did I see it coming a mile off? Also yes. But there’s a reason this movie has already made more than $900 million dollars at the box office: Top Gun: Maverick is the perfect movie for our time. Smart and slick and warm hearted, it delivers everything it promises, and does so in spectacular style.
What did you think? Do you think this movie stands on its own, or does it only work if you’ve seen the original? Will there be another sequel? Did you know the US Navy has it’s own airforce? (Me neither!) As ever, let me know!
SkellBox 