That line repeats several times in Top Gun: Maverick. While in context it refers to the fighter pilots in command of billion-dollar aircrafts, it could just as easily be the ethos of this sequel to the 1980s blockbuster. In a world of seamless CGI and endless comic book franchises, this latest flight into the “danger zone” places its bets on real people doing real stunts, powered not by superhero mythology but the charisma of its nearly 60-year-old star. And it actually succeeds.
Top Gun (1986) is iconic to an entire generation of moviegoers, a slick demo reel masquerading as a movie. A commercial for jet planes, beach volleyball and Tom Cruise’s charisma, Tony Scott’s movie was entirely built on surface pleasures enjoyable enough to distract from its complete lack of soul.
Those surface pleasures are still there in Top Gun: Maverick. Director Joseph Kosinski (Tron: Legacy [2010], Oblivion [2013]) recaptures the sleek, heightened look that set the template for all Don Simpson/Jerry Bruckheimer productions, where every scene takes place at magic hour and every shot could be in a music video. But this time, the escapism is leavened with actual emotional stakes, and Cruise delivers a performance that balances confidence with vulnerability and a rare acknowledgement of his mortality. It’s a spectacular piece of entertainment that marries high-tech thrills with movie star swagger in a way that feels almost old-fashioned.
Thirty-five years after the events of Top Gun, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell’s life hasn’t changed much. He’s still in the Navy, but hasn’t advanced past the rank of Captain. He washed out as a flight instructor and his problems with authority have relegated him to an eternal position as a test pilot for experimental aircrafts, one of which he trashes in the film’s thrilling opening sequence.
Before his superior (Ed Harris) can send him packing, orders come in for Maverick to return to the Top Gun flight school. Under the skeptical eyes of another superior officer (Jon Hamm), Maverick must train a group of young pilots (“the best of the best,” naturally) for an extremely dangerous — some might say impossible — mission that will push them and their planes to their limits. Compounding things is the fact that one of the pilots is a hotshot with the call sign of Rooster (Miles Teller), who happens to be the son of Maverick’s old friend and departed co-pilot, Goose. Maverick and Rooster have a history, and the young man resents the older for his overprotective nature, which have hurt his career.
The original Top Gun operated on a slick, “war is swell” tone, going to great lengths to ignore the high stakes and dangers of military life and practice. Aside from its 10-minute battle against unnamed enemies, the film was focused on a school competition where the goal was literally to be the best; even the film’s one main death was just due to mechanical issues.
Top Gun: Maverick’s script — by Ehren Kruger and Eric Warren Singer, with an assist by Cruise’s Mission: Impossible collaborator Chris McQuarrie — raises the stakes considerably, constantly reminding the audience that the pilots might not return from this mission. Maverick’s conflict with his superiors is that he wants to train the team members not only to do their job but to come back home. When they head out for the final mission, there are several ominous shots of surface-to-air missiles to hammer home the dangers awaiting. It’s not subtle, but it adds real suspense to the flight sequences.
The original Top Gun was rightly praised for its spectacular aerial footage, captured with the assistance of the U.S. Navy. While it must have been tempting to lean on CGI footage to create the midair skirmishes for the sequel, Cruise taps into his Mission: Impossible ethic to make sure that there are several shots of him and his cast mates strapped into F-18s, eyes wide as the G Forces mount, gasping under the pressure. While there are likely some digital assists, the real stunts lend the scenes an immediacy and vitality that is lacking in most big budget films. The final 40 minutes — which, admittedly, do tend to confuse this franchise with Cruise’s other major ongoing series — feature a thrilling, fist-pumping chase through the skies, assisted by Kosinski’s skill at capturing the sight of his cast and crew doing barrel rolls and other maneuvers that feel so real they distract from the most ludicrous narrative choices.
But what’s most refreshing about Top Gun: Maverick is that its charms aren’t only in the clouds. While Cruise was all confidence and charm in Maverick’s first go around, he brings a more subdued and vulnerable performance to the follow-up. That thousand-watt smile and “I don’t give a damn” preening are still there, but mingled with regret and uneasiness. The film wisely brings up Rooster’s connection to Goose early, and rather than treat it as a twist, Maverick’s guilt over his friend’s death and his fear of endangering Rooster provide an emotional anchor for Cruise’s performance.
The film is also one of the few to acknowledge that the man who was once the biggest star in the world is getting older, and there’s a slightly funereal tone to the scenes outside the cockpit. The film stages sequences similar to the original — the opening shots of planes taking off set to Harold Faltermeyer’s anthem and Kenny Loggins’ “Danger Zone” is almost a shot-for-shot repeat of the original film’s opening, although this movie later trades sand volleyball for beach football — but there’s an undercurrent of wistfulness to them. “The future is coming, and you’re not in it,” Maverick’s superior tells him early on, and there are constant allusions to Maverick being a relic. Perhaps nowhere is this more apparent than in a mid-film reunion with Cruise and co-star Val Kilmer, reprising his role as Iceman, and the scene is a moving and tender acknowledgement of the passage of time and the years that have passed between these men.
Miles Teller in “Top Gun: Maverick.” Photo by Scott Garfield – © 2022 Paramount Pictures Corporation. All rights reserved.
Again, it’s not deep, and Top Gun: Maverick is far from a contemplative drama. It’s still funny, thrilling, and highly entertaining. But those notes lend it a heart its predecessor lacked. And it’s a welcome reminder that, whatever his personal foibles, Cruise is the last of his kind, a movie star willing to throw himself completely into a movie. The film allows him to tap into the adrenaline junkie mentality that has turned Mission: Impossible into the best ongoing franchise in Hollywood, but it also allows scenes where Cruise reminds audiences that he’s also a very good actor and canny about his onscreen persona. He sells the humor and drama just as well as any of the action beats.
He’s so good that he can paper over the fact that the rest of the characters are largely forgettable. Harris and Hamm fit perfectly into the Top Gun universe but have little to do aside from chide Maverick while being secretly impressed at how good he is. The new recruits are likable, but the movie doesn’t give them much in the way of character, except that Rooster has apparently styled his entire look and personality around his father. Jennifer Connelly is given a bit more to do as a love interest than Kelly McGillis was afforded in the first film, but her arc still swings back to her falling for Maverick because he’s as charming as (and looks like) Tom Cruise.
But it doesn’t matter, because the focus of the movie is in the title. Every character exists to react to, go up against or cheer on Maverick. The reason it works so well here when it fell flat in 1986 is because now Cruise is a better actor, who knows he has to bring more than cockiness and a charming smile, although those things don’t hurt.
Maverick was an icon in the first film; here, he’s a character, and that makes all the difference. That, coupled with thrilling action sequences, makes Top Gun: Maverick one of the most entertaining and enjoyable rides of the year.
