Like water off a goose: review of "Top Gun: Maverick," the highest-grossing blockbuster of 2022
An old-fashioned, comfortable and predictable action film with Tom Cruise, Tom Cruise and more Tom Cruise.
The success of "Top Gun: Maverick" is measured in numbers: Paramount's highest-grossing film of 2022 and the most profitable release of the year came in sixth overall in the U.S. box office. Marvel, look out: the screen veterans are striking back! In a similar vein, the main driving force behind both the picture and the momentum behind the sequel's launch can be articulated - the desire (guess whose?) to be the most, the most, the most.
It's been 30 years since the original film, but pilot Pete Mitchell, call sign Maverick (Tom Cruise)'s desire to show off hasn't diminished one bit. Taking off, flying, experimenting on the brink of a foul and racing at the speed of sound so that admiring dispatchers could call the captain "the fastest man alive." Irresponsibility is again equated with heroism, and instead of another dishonorable discharge, Mitchell is returned to the Navy's home forge of elite forces, Top Gun, to train its best graduates for the dangerous mission (seemingly impossible, as usual).
The Achilles' heel of the invincible aviator was and is the death of comrade Goose (Anthony Edwards in the original film): the silent reproach will be the son of partner Bradley Bradshaw (Miles Teller), who is among the distinguished recruits. The younger goose with the call sign Bully is ready to serve his country, but Maverick is not ready to send the kid to his certain death.
It's almost impossible to look back and look straight into the eyes of a Tony Scott film in 2022 without laughing or believing the homoerotic overtones brought out by Tarantino. In "Top Gun" (the localization is considered official), Maverick sprawls his love of airplanes across the runway, cheekily pokes fun at his superiors, and if he's sad, hops on a motorcycle and races toward the horizon to the hits of the '80s. The test of strength during the screening will have to be passed by everyone alone - some kissing to Take My Breath Away will beat out a nostalgic tear, and some will make you bash your head through the wall.
The skillful Joseph Kosinski retains the texture, palette and taut slenderness of Tony Scott's brainchild. It's not just about literal curtsy, recreating the opening scene and Tom Cruise smiling, it's about genre placement and stylistic faceting. "Top Gun: Maverick" is literally, if not from the '80s, then from the mid-'90s (minus the CGI advances): an energetic action movie with a dash of sense of duty and a couple of unnecessary romantic scenes. With all due respect to Jennifer Connelly, the sassy love line only artificially increases the timeline and sponsors the main character's ego. As does the entire picture, though.
The answer to the question "Will you like Top Gun?" is directly proportional to your personal love for Tom Cruise. The actor has been called Hollywood's latest old-school star - and the celestial actor behaves accordingly. Dramaturgically, directorially, and camerawork-wise, Cruise is illuminated by armor-piercing spotlights of (un)fading fame. The talented actor Miles Teller seems to have been measured on a ruler for his allowed on-screen brilliance: shine as long as you don't cast a shadow over Cruise. However, the lack of self-irony in the lead actor (that is, the very, very-very-very) is dashingly compensated by the director, wrapping the victory in a delicate shroud of nostalgia instead of blinding gloss.
Frankly, the chiseled pathos and deliberate action don't spoil the impression one bit: "Top Gun" is loaded with endorphins, good spirits and excited sighs. The rushes are head-turning, the falls make you clutch your heart, and the topless athletic games are meant to tickle tender spots. Fans of the 1986 tape will be treated to more than once, with a Kawasaki motorcycle, aviator goggles, and other artifacts of former greatness on display. And the viewers of 2022 will be introduced to the only female pilot on the team, the unsinkable Phoenix (Monica Barbaro would like to wish her career take off).
"Top Gun" is insanely enjoyable to watch precisely because of the stubborn straightforwardness that has lost its former seriousness on the sour banks of nostalgia. But you have to think about it for a second after the credits, and it gets incredibly dreary: the world is divided in half into good guys and bad guys according to 90s conventions. The abstract enemies wear black helmets, but who's underneath? In the '80s, foes flew MiGs over the Indian Ocean. Now the intruders are based in China or...? Veteran Val Kilmer has been battling laryngeal cancer for years, and therefore cannot speak either on or off screen. Maverick (or is it Tom Cruise himself?) is infantilely trying to win the race to be the best/fastest/oblivious in the world, even though no one is competing with him.
There is not a hint of ambivalence or reflection in the film, Pete Mitchell warns not only Bully Bradshaw, but also the audience: "You shouldn't think, but feel. The movie is designed for emotional currents and hits right on target. "Top Gun" can be scolded endlessly for being narcissistic, pathetic and archaic, but therein lies its strength.
Joseph Kosinski has made an incredibly comfortable movie, predictable to the point of not upsetting and surprising to delight. It is in the year 2022 that one most wants to abandon endless introspection and find oneself in the middle of the '90s-not the real ones, but the cinematic ones that make the era alive in the soul of pop culture. Where the good guys disobey orders and do good, and the bad guys - faceless dullards in helmets - behave badly. Where hot kisses heal grudges, Tom Cruise is just entering the Mission Impossible franchise, and death is redeemed by a life saved
This article was sponsored by Abdulkadir GÖKSAL
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