There are plenty of reasons to dislike Tom Cruise if you’re allergic to the idea of the relentless alpha male. Scientology seems like a non-starter for one, the ubermensch American exceptionalism thing feels like it borders on the intolerance for anyone not giving 110% during every breakfast, and while his commitment to filmmaking seems nonpareil, his reputation for the rigorous demands he places on crew members can seem cold-hearted (see the way he lost faith with the director of “The Mummy” and impatiently tried to take over, or how he recently just fired Twenty One Pilots from the soundtrack of his new movie for just recent examples).
Cruise, it seems, just wants to make a great movie at all and any costs, including often sacrificing his life for the perfect shot. And he does so here with a bullseye. Uncannily, perhaps more so than any character he’s played before, Cruise seemingly exemplifies Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, a fearless professional compelled to test the limits of himself, his profession, and every situation he finds himself in.
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For the TLDR crowd, “Top Gun: Maverick” is outstanding; the ultimate package of what you want from classic summer blockbuster entertainment. The movie has visceral thrills, massive peril, hard-fought and earned victories, but also captivating romance, searing drama, big emotional stakes, heart, soul, and poignant pathos. On some levels, it’s astonishing how seamlessly it works as a blockbuster. Yet, it’s the journey to getting there, and how all the humanity is embedded into the fabric of the tremendous action that is deeply impressive.
The gritty, hard-nosed, no-nonsense Tom Cruise thing—vexed whenever only-average people take up oxygen in the room—actually does wonders for the Maverick character, but it’s also surface. Underneath all the Maverick gear is a man with a big heart, and much loyalty despite all his faults.
The plot of “Top Gun: Maverick” is simple but effective. The U.S. government has discovered an illegal uranium site somewhere abroad that will soon be operational (the jingoism of the past is completely jettisoned, to the point that even the enemy is a purposefully vague foe). The risky assignment—something of a suicide mission—is to destroy the site before it’s up and running, but the covert, perilous corridor to pulling it off and staying alive is so impossible even the most daring pilot would laugh off its foolhardy chances. Maverick, up to his regular games of insubordination and dodging promotions with bad behavior so he can remain an airborne Captain instead of a desk jockey, is given an ultimatum after yet another reckless stunt: teach a new generation of graduated hot shot pilots to attempt the undertaking or stay grounded for life. Maverick’s career rests on a razor’s edge, but he does have one ally in his corner rooting for his success: old pal and decorated Navy Admiral, Tom “Iceman” Kazansky (Val Kilmer), who believes he’s the only person who can help pull off this task.
Bogeys are everywhere though, as are the ghosts of Maverick’s past. Vice Admiral “Cyclone” (Jon Hamm) detests him and his reputation in no uncertain terms, an old flame Penny Benjamin (Jennifer Connelly) is unfinished business to contend with, and most of all, one of the trainee crackerjack pilots is Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw (Miles Teller), the son of Maverick’s late best friend Nick “Goose” Bradshaw (Anthony Edwards from the first “Top Gun”). Maverick’s made plenty of mistakes and dubious choices in the past, including a few that crossed Rooster, and so the baggage is heavy and there’s no love lost between the pupil and his instructor, despite Maverick’s attempts at reconciliation.
Directed par excellence by Joseph Kosinski (“Oblivion“), ‘Maverick’ is easily the filmmaker’s best film, crafted with pulse-pounding precision, clarity, electrifying energy, edge-of-your-seat momentum, and the sun-soaked radiance of a stadium concert in all it’s “f*ck yeah!” glory.
Credited to screenwriters Ehren Kruger, Eric Warren Singer, and Christopher McQuarrie, the ‘Maverick’ script is so flawlessly constructed with its increasing obstacles and landmines of the emotional, spiritual, and even existential kind on top of all the physical dangers. One resonant theme is the notion of Maverick running on borrowed time, exhausted luck, and low fuel—perhaps just one millisecond miscalculation away from costing someone’s life. “The future is coming and you’re not in it,” an admiral growls at him at one point.
While legacy sequels, their carbon copy antics, and needless callbacks can be endlessly frustrating, ‘Maverick’ essentially only leans on the essence of what made “Top Gun” entertaining, but bests it by a mile, deeply impressing in the process and its commitment to itself. ‘Maverick’ has a target in mind from second one: remember the classic movies of your youth and the ‘70s, ‘80s and ’90s, that made you jump for joy, laugh, cry, and stand up and cheer. That’s the moving missile that ‘Maverick’ is trying to shoot with its own guided system and somehow, its impeccable aim is true.
Featuring terrific, arguably star-making supporting performances by Glen Powell, Monica Barbaro, Charles Parnell, Jay Ellis, Danny Ramirez, and more, ‘Maverick’ feels like it’s leading by example; a cast that is as determined and unswerving as its unyielding leader. Cruise, just like the movie, is intense, gritty, and steely-eyed, imbuing each moment with sky-high, do-or-die emotion.
‘Maverick’ occasionally leans into melodrama—its soaring score by Hans Zimmer, Lorne Balfe, and Harold Faltermeyer is persistently over the top—but it works for the elevated material here. ‘Maverick,’ is not a film, it’s a summer popcorn capital M, movie, but it understands itself, still treats itself with respect, and never insults the intelligence of its audience. Even when machinations in the third act get a little preposterous, its nearly breathtaking at how its fierce thrust just flattens any moments of your buckling suspension of disbelief.
Ultimately, for its spectacular moves and full-throttle immediacy, “Top Gun: Maverick,” excels because it always understands the emotional costs are truly the highest prices to pay. ‘Maverick’ is built around a series of turning points, where the pilot must reflect on the various decisions he’s made and all the people they hurt. One of Maverick’s greatest aims is seeking forgiveness and navigating the bitterness and resentment his damage has accrued over the years. The “letting go,” surrogate father moments in the film are terrific too, highlighting just what a great actor Cruise can be when chewing into painful material.
So, as much as “Top Gun: Maverick” whips from a technical, visceral, thrill-making, supersonic-level, the entire endeavor and every little moment of introspection, suffering, and determination is all the more accentuated, strengthened, and fist-pumpingly good because you care so damn much about the story, the people and their very human concerns. So, if you ever find yourself in the position of disliking Tom Cruise’s cult of personality (fair), to his credit, the actor/producer seems to innately understand filmmaking. If you do not care about the characters, their emotional struggles, the things that make them flawed, broken, and human, and the things that make you want to root for them, all the primal ecstasies, explosions, and viscera don’t matter. Cheers, Tom. [A]