Top Gun: Maverick wants to be a lot of things—a sequel to the classic action film Top Gun (1986), proof that summer blockbusters don’t have to bend the knee to the Marvel Cinematic Universe, a much-needed boost for the movie industry in the (ostensive) wake of the COVID-19 pandemic, and further confirmation that Tom Cruise remains the world’s greatest box-office superstar. Remarkably, Top Gun: Maverick achieves each of these goals, so much so that, less than a month after its release, there is already talk of a Top Gun 3. Some have even credited Top Gun: Maverick with “saving the movies.”
Whether or not this is an exaggeration depends on what one is looking for in cinema. No one is going to confuse Top Gun: Maverick with a film by an Ozu or a Malick. It is neither complex nor elegant. But it does manage to recapture the frenetic energy of the first Top Gun—no small feat, given the absence of many of the original players, including director Tony Scott—even as it adds depth to the storyline. After all, at its best, Top Gun was a predictable, if eminently exciting, advertisement for the U.S. Navy in the midst of the Cold War. At its worst, Top Gun was a vanity project for Cruise and a cadre of wannabe Hollywood heartthrobs. As Roger Ebert then put it, “The dogfights are absolutely the best since Clint Eastwood's electrifying aerial scenes in Firefox. But look out for the scenes where the people talk to one another.” Needless to say, I didn’t care at the time. I had just turned 10 years old, and I loved Top Gun. For the next several years—well, okay, right up until the present day—my friends and I couldn’t get enough of imitating the movie’s kitschy lines: “That’s right…I am dangerous!” “This is what I call a target-rich environment.” Top Gun is a silly movie, but I mean that in the best possible way.
That Top Gun: Maverick aspires to greater things is itself notable. The world has changed a great deal since 1986, and the solemnity of life after 9/11 and COVID-19 is implied in the film. In other words, the cocksure swagger of Top Gun has yielded to something more serious-minded, if no less stirring. The plot picks up roughly 30 years after the original Top Gun. Naval aviator Pete “Maverick” Mitchell remains active as a test pilot, hoping to prove to the Navy that manned aircraft remain essential to military success. True to form, Maverick presses his mission too far, but, before he can be dismissed from the Navy, his old friend Admiral Tom “Iceman” Kazansky (Val Kilmer) appoints him as an instructor in the Navy’s Strike Fighter Tactics Instructor program—more commonly known as TOPGUN. This is, of course, a “coming home” for Maverick. Yet, he returns to find a very different program than before. No longer do the best young pilots excel in dogfighting and manual maneuvering. Instead, they rely on digital technology to fly dummied-down missions designed to minimize risk. These pilots may be talented, but they are also coddled, surrogates for a culture in which cost-benefit analyses trump determination and valor.
The only problem is: the world remains perilous, and the technological gap between nations is narrowing. In Top Gun: Maverick, an unnamed nation (North Korea?) is trying to develop nuclear weapons in a facility nestled in a deep canyon. Even worse, this weapons plant is defended by SAM missiles and a squadron of jet fighters. It’s the kind of target that can only be attacked by well-trained pilots with a slew of physical and mental skills. Maverick’s assignment, then, is to get America’s top pilots ready for this mission. But there are snags. Vice Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson (Jon Hamm) doesn’t trust Maverick’s judgment, and a key member of the mission training group is Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw (Miles Teller)—the son of Maverick’s late partner “Goose,” who, in one of Top Gun’s most famous scenes, died in a tragic accident years before. Maverick wants to protect Rooster from danger, but in this mission danger is unavoidable. For that reason, Maverick decides that it’s not enough to teach; he must also draw on his experience and expertise to lead the way.
I won’t delve into the film’s denouement, but suffice it to say that director Joseph Kosinski, along with Top Gun: Maverick’s strong cast, delivers an exhilarating conclusion. Much of the hype surrounding the movie has centered on its cinematic realism, and it’s hard to argue the point. In my view, Top Gun: Maverick exposes numerous flaws in the “theme-park movies” decried by Martin Scorsese and others. Where Marvel films opt for computer animation (CGI) and a host of non-human characters, Top Gun: Maverick is very much rooted in our world, for better or for worse. The flying sequences are kinetic, visceral. Moreover, the challenges faced by Maverick and others in the movie are relatable—politics, grief, illness, unrequited love. Such themes used to be standard fare in Hollywood, but watching Top Gun: Maverick is a reminder that they’ve gone missing. When the “Top Gun Anthem” kicks in at various points in the movie, it’s like hearing a song that recalls an old friend. It cues the pre-digital amidst the digital age.
What’s interesting is that this extra-cinematic effect is repeated within the story itself. As mentioned, a recurring theme in Top Gun: Maverick is the relation between “man and machine.” It would be a stretch to say that its treatment of this subject is philosophically dense. Still, the movie hits on a number of basic talking points. First, particularly in its opening sequence, Top Gun: Maverick makes clear that we have entered an age of “transhumanism.” Dissatisfied with human limitations—from the bodily possibility of death to the spiritual capacity for individual decision—the military wants to invest in unmanned aerial vehicles, commonly known as “drones.” In theory, a UAV will never disobey the one who programs it, whereas an individual pilot may seek to act on his own instincts and perceptions. This is not always beneficial: human beings, even Maverick, are liable to make mistakes. Still, as the movie unfolds, it is emphasized the opposite is equally true: drones lack the spontaneous creativity and passionate motivation needed to confront and to overcome life’s most difficult circumstances. In short, the military’s inclination is to underwrite enhanced technology and, in turn, “smarter” planes. Yet, the recurring theme of Top Gun: Maverick is expressed in the words of Maverick’s protégé Rooster: “It’s not the plane. It’s the pilot.”
That is not to suggest, however, that Top Gun: Maverick is anti-technology. The movie is far too superficial to dwell on the possibility that, no matter how useful human intuition, no matter how meaningful human affection, these innate qualities will ultimately succumb to the rationalistic calculus of the technical system. Indeed, in a key early scene, Maverick almost resigns himself to such an outcome:
Rear Admiral: The end is inevitable, Maverick. Your kind is headed for extinction.
Maverick: Maybe so, sir. But not today.
At film’s end, it appears that Maverick has yet again forestalled the inevitable. This makes for a happy audience, and perhaps it’s enough for a blockbuster film just to raise impactful questions. Still, it’s clear that, if and when Top Gun 3 does appear, it will have to at least move towards a resolution of the “pilot vs plane” conundrum. Otherwise it will ring as hollow as the MCU films it has seemingly vanquished.
June 30, 2022
Loved your review of Top Gun. I was 37 when I saw the original - it was awesome and so was this. It did save the movie industry. Another amazing movie in theaters now is “Everything Everywhere All the Time”. Massively creative, deep and fun with top martial art scenes as a bonus.