Which is why the two things that we see most in Top Gun: Maverick are the sleek, multimillion-dollar jets that protect America’s interests at home and abroad (where exactly abroad? Well, that’s a complicated question that I’ll get to in a minute) and Cruise’s perfect teeth, framed by his perfect smile. Yet director Joseph Kosinski (who worked with Cruise on 2013′s Oblivion, which I suppose now demands a reassessment) knows that all the pyrotechnics in the world cannot match the alchemic energy of his star. The high-sky dogfighting in Top Gun: Maverick is gripping, explosive stuff – the movie is engineered to be a true big-screen, big-sound, big-everything experience, not necessarily pushing the limits of the cinematic form, but embracing its transformative edges. Scott Garfield/Paramount PicturesĬoming slightly back down to Earth, Maverick works its wonders thanks to the perfect match of star power, source material ripe for retrofitting, and a director who knows how to wring the best out of his leading man and, more importantly, when to get the heck out of his way. Top Gun: Maverick picks up three decades after the events of the first film, the specifics of which don’t matter in the slightest. Does the wildly entertaining success of Top Gun: Maverick – which nails every action scene, every emotional beat, every character arc, every musical cue – mean that, essentially, Tom Cruise cannot, will not, be stopped? That he can do anything that he puts his mind to? The only conclusion that I can make: Scientology works, people. Yet here we are with a sequel that soars so above and beyond the cheesy, cringe-y heights of its first film that it requires a hypersonic head-shake. It is all a bit improbable, isn’t it? While the market for the unkillable Tom Cruise remains strong, the past 36 years haven’t exactly been marked by an unquenchable thirst for a sequel to the original Tony Scott exercise in Reagan-era superpatriotism (it might’ve only been 33 years were it not for the pandemic messing up release plans). Instead, it is the overwhelming, transforming, jet-fightin’ sound pounding inside and outside my head as I try to recall exactly how it felt to watch Top Gun: Maverick, one of the best, and loudest, blockbusters that I have ever had the pleasure of witnessing. That’s not a typo, or you watching me experience a stroke in real-time print media.
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