Top Gun: Maverick

Of course, the biggest attraction of the new Top Gun is not the supersonic fighter jets, but Tom Cruise in thrall to his own acting legacy. As is usually the case with legacy sequels, 90% of the plot is a copy/variation of the events of the first film (the opening and closing credits are practically identical). Whereas Cruise was a student in the first Top Gun, this time he’s an instructor (and stand-in father) who shows the novices how it (aerial manoeuvres and action movies) is supposed to be done. Thanks to his emphasis on the human element (repeating the line that what matters is the pilot’s skill, not the machine’s capabilities), he saves the day (and the action genre, which he is breathing new life into). Nevertheless, he remains a rebellious outsider who rides the (same) motorcycle, wears the (same) leather jacket, doesn’t respect authority and doesn’t read manuals. At the same time, however, he obediently serves the military-industrial complex, so his rebelliousness is only superficial. Because Maverick chose to go his own way (just as Cruise’s career comprises a separate universe that is not part of the dominant comic-book multiverse), he has not put down roots and remains a solitary figure (which is constantly emphasised by how he observes the other characters from afar rather than coexisting with them). Like the most recent Bond film, Top Gun: Maverick is packed with nostalgic looks back at the past, admitting one’s own vulnerability and coming to terms with the fact that our time on earth is limited (Cruise will soon be 60 years old). Seeking out and pondering the parallels between Maverick and Cruise by going through his filmography and reflecting on his image as a star was truthfully more entertaining to me than the numerous aerial scenes, which, with the exception of the last one, which takes place over a snow-covered landscape for the sake of variety, are interchangeable, with such rapid cuts that you can’t really enjoy them much anyway (it’s worth seeing the film in IMAX mainly for the sound). The same is true of the variation on the legendary volleyball scene. The game of (American) football on the beach is shot predominantly against the sun, chopped up with a lot of unnecessary cuts and absolutely asexual. I guiltily admit that watching it made me long for Scott's advertising-video aesthetic and shameless objectification of semi-nude male bodies. I would have found such stylisation more appropriate for a blockbuster heroic, action-melodrama that basically takes place completely outside of any real socio-political context, in a world that exists solely for the purpose of showing off aerial acrobatics and Tom Cruise’s smile. 75% (05/24/2022)

The first one was youthful, impetuous, restless and surprisingly a lot harder and less predictable. The second one plays on safety. Lest it sound bad, it's a great movie. What Bruckheimer was able to produce, Kosinski to shoot, and Cruise and co. to star in will be in the textbooks for the next decade on how to make an "aerial film." All those polished shots, breathtaking camera twists and F18s rolls (and it wouldn’t be Tom Cruise without a Cobra at least once per film) are truly eye candy and you can't help but smile at the commitment of the actors. But there is not a single surprise, not a single unexpected scene throughout – there is one hint towards the end, but after a few seconds the sensation dissipates in another onslaught of clichés. Of course,we are speaking about clichés with refinement, elegance and overall acceptable consistency throughout, though. The filmmakers partially develop the story of Maverick and actually kind of recreate the fan-favorite moments of the first film for audiences three generations younger. The older ones smile because they know, the younger ones stare wide-eyes because they don’t know and they like it a lot. That means everyone is a target and that's why Maverick will make a bundle and deservedly so. However, the screenwriting qualities are not nearly as high as the technical ones. But that in the end is obviously not such a problem for a high rating, because when Cruise puts on his dusty jacket and sits on his motorbike at sunset, it's hard not to just slap five stars on there out of nostalgia. (06/01/2022)

An inexplicable phenomenon in the form of a film that does not advance the genre forward, does not stand out in terms of acting, repeats itself like a song, and visually quotes a decades-old original scene by scene – and yet critics, viewers, children, and grandparents all nod their heads in agreement and struggle to admit that they just saw the film of the year. Honest action, where screws visibly fly off fighter planes and oil drips, a cliché seen a hundred times, which quakes with every emotion, and the essence of the 80s, extracted to the core, still works a couple levels better at every moment than it did in 1986. Top Gun: Maverick is the opposite of fan service because it brings us back to a fandom that most people only halfheartedly like, and not many would include it among their favorites. And yet it crushes us with nostalgia for times we didn't experience, forcing us to melancholically ponder fates we didn't know for three decades, and we honestly go in any direction it shows us, wondering why we never became pilots. (05/30/2022)

It may not be the most surprising, innovative, or flawless piece of filmmaking, yet everything in Top Gun: Maverick is done so effectively, engagingly, and simply "right" that I had probably the most perfect viewing experience I've had in months. This is how you make a sequel years later, this is how you make a Hollywood blockbuster, this is simply how you make a FILM. And coming back from the cinema during the magic hour with the orange aura of the setting sun was just the icing on the cake. (06/05/2022)

In Mission: Impossible – Fallout there were several sequences when the film crossed the line of fiction and built an exalted monument not only to its protagonist, but also to the actor who portrayed him. Top Gun: Maverick works simultaneously at the levels of fiction, reflective adoration and meta-commentary. Thus, when the line “The end is inevitable, Maverick. Your kind is headed for extinction” is uttered and Maverick responds, “Maybe so, sir. But not today”, it’s not just the title character or Tom Cruise, as the last thoroughbred Hollywood star, speaking for himself, but also for the 1980s blockbuster model. All of the warning lights are blinking red, alerting us that this old/old-world colossus shouldn’t be able to stand up to the bigger, faster, more finely tuned competition made with the latest hardware and software. We constantly have the feeling that this isn’t how it’s done anymore, that the time for that has passed, that everybody wants something more sophisticated, more advanced and more contemporary. But here it is simply confirmed that it is not the machine that matters, but the pilot. Of course, there are cheesy camp and crypto-queer levels to the film, but judging by the audience’s reaction, these are not flaws, but part of a delightful viewing experience, as the film doesn’t just wink at the viewers, but looks them right in the eye with its hard-to-resist gaze. Also, following Žižek’s analysis of Rammstein’s music and concerts in relation to Nazism, we can even say that the second Top Gun gives us a passive experience with Scientology (though, unlike in the case of Rammstein, this is not all based on caricature and it certainly does not subvert the reflected ideology). Tom Cruise can be condemned and hated for a number of things, but unlike other megalomaniacs of our time, he cannot be denied the recognition that he is without equal in his field, i.e. in cinematic spectacles. Not because of the massive paydays that he receives or how he fleeces his subordinates, but rather because he can tear down everyone for the perfectionist vision that he has worked so hard to create. Top Gun: Maverick proudly shows off its banal and obsolete engine, which should be in the salvage yard, but the living awe generator working the stick squeezes more power out of the old beater than anyone before him. ___ Footnote: In a handful of melancholically dreamy moments and plot motifs, Cruise’s ode to flying evokes Miyazaki’s understandably more poetic and multi-layered monument to fighter aces, Porco Rosso. (05/26/2022)