Life Through the Lens: America’s obsession with hollow nostalgia
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"Despite your best efforts, you refuse to die."
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Let me know if this sounds familiar to you:
U.S. Navy fighter pilot Capt. Pete "Maverick" Mitchell (Tom Cruise), known for his eccentricity both on land and in the air, tends to let pleasure override protocol, and he gets ripped for it constantly. Classic Maverick (insert toothy, impish grin). What's this? Maverick is being called to the elite Top Gun academy?! No stinkin' way!
Well, can't say no to military orders, even when they are given through tight teeth with wary warnings. Maverick packs his earthly possessions (into his pockets?), jumps on his nostalgia mobile (a.k.a. motorcycle from the 1980s), and tries to chase a supersonic aircraft. Pshh, that Maverick (insert playful shoulder-shrug).
Now at Top Gun, overtly hostile competition threatens to derail the assembled crew. Although already labeled and addressed as "the best of the best," who is the best of the best of the best? There can only be one No. 1. The resident ace spots a newcomer with potential and makes it his sole mission to ground that fool. Talents flair as tempers flare and nostrils and pecks won't stop flaring, as well. Which will win: ice-cold precision or instinctive impulse?
"You know what, hotshot? Meet me on the beach for some sand justice," shouts the blonde bomber to the combustible challenger. "Remember to oil those rippling muscles for the sport contest because muscles measure worth," whispers the top dog as he high fives the eager onlookers. Spoiler alert: those muscles be a ripplin'.
A rare moment of ease is enjoyed at the local beer joint where cadets can throw sharp objects at concentric circles and the song "Great Balls of Fire" is belted with amateur enthusiasm at an open piano. Is that a popular bar song and nobody told me? At said saloon, a forbidden and complicated love affair begins. Better keep it under wraps from the rest of the bunch.
When a beloved friend perishes (Darn you, unpredictable and impersonal fate), the temptation to give up takes flight. How can one go on with such personal loss? In the depths of this emotional valley comes the call for action: "Gear up, pilots." An undisclosed enemy is doing something. Something quite shady, but otherwise generic. America cannot stand for the shadily generic. Maverick and a rag-tag crew of previously hostile flyers grab their plane handle thingies and take to the skies.
As missiles zoom and bullets whiz, the opposition seems to be just too darn strong. Maverick watches as his squad crumbles and his fear of loss resurfaces. It is only in audibly conversing with dead friend "Goose" does he find solace and, eventually, the might to proceed. And proceed he does by clearing the skies and the planet of those shady, generic antagonists.
With the impossible mission now completed, against all odds mind you, Maverick is surrounded by the cheers of his peers and his once unreceptive relationship is reconciled, and why not throw in that secret girl, as well. "I know I am supposed to be mad at you, Maverick, but your flying skills erase any personal slights or relational misdemeanors. Let's hug it out."
Did that synopsis sound familiar to you? Well, jokes on you. I just described both "Top Gun" and "Top Gun: Maverick" because they are the exact same movie. Thirty-six years passed, and the exact same movie was remade, as if we wouldn't notice. They had all these years to improve the cardboard-script, but did nothing but enhance the cardboardity. They had nearly four decades to increase the emotional depth of these characters, to make them real and empathetic, but did nothing but dust them off for reuse. They had decades to rework the terrible music of the original, so cliche and aggressively exaggerated, but did nothing but throw a Lady Gaga song into the noise. They had almost unlimited time to get rid of the unnatural interactions and the preposterous Top-Gun mentality: the glistening beach volleyball, the towel-clad shower room conversations, the awful bar ballads, the painfully slow sex scenes, the motorcycle detours, and all the sequel has done is to repeat every single one of them. With gusto.
I found myself laughing out loud at the absurdity of this movie, like literally laughing out loud. Strangely enough, most of the reviews are overwhelmingly positive. That begs the question: what movie did they watch? It surely wasn't this one. From the opening credits, this movie shows itself to be nothing but obscenely wistful and unrelentingly repetitious. I wouldn't be surprised to find that this movie was written by artificial intelligence. It is eerily without a soul or personality.
Director Joseph Kosinski shows absolutely no ambition, although he seems quite adept at recycling (zing!). Lorne Balfe and Hans Zimmer show a skillful practice of sucking the energy out of every scene with their music. The screenwriters are too numerous to name. We'll just call them IBM "Hal" 2000.
For the most part, the acting is more wooden than the upcoming "Pinocchio" movie. Cruise is one of Hollywood's last remaining movie stars, but his performance is little more than resurrecting a character better left buried. I give him countless credit for his fearlessness and daring, but I would love a tad more. Miles Teller as Rooster is passable, but often dismissible. His mustache is just the icing on that fowl cake. Glen Powell as Hangman is just a poor man's Val Kilmer. Speaking of Kilmer, his cameo was strange. I know his health made his role limited, but it was sappier than a Vermont Spring Festival. Like most bits in the movie, it was so heavy handed that it just comes off disingenuous.
A difficult stance to make is on the movie's cinematography. It is duplicitous at best. One scene will be cringe worthy, gimmicky, sloppy and amateur, but then the next will be an aerial shot captured with ease and accuracy. The emotional aspect is fumbled and dropped but the action is astounding. Claudio Miranda's cinematography may just be more positive than negative.
After 130 minutes of development and depth on par with the average 30 second chewing gum commercial, I can't recommend this movie. The best I can say is: if you enjoyed the original (for some mysterious reason), you may also enjoy this one … because it is the exact same thing … plus 36 years of wasted time.
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REPORT CARD: "Top Gun: Maverick"
Grade: D-.
Comment: As if the first time wasn't disappointing enough.