Cast:
Tom Cruise (Pete "Maverick" Mitchell), Kelly McGillis (Charlotte "Charlie" Blackwood), Val Kilmer (Tom "Iceman" Kazansky), Anthony Edwards (Nick "Goose" Bradshaw), Tom Skerritt (Mike "Viper" Metcalf), Michael Ironside (Rick "Jester" Heatherly), John Stockwell (Bill "Cougar" Cortell), Barry Tubb (Leonard "Wolfman" Wolfe), Rick Rossovich (Ron "Slider" Kerner), Tim Robbins (Sam "Merlin" Wells), Clarence Gilyard (Marcus "Sundown" Williams), Whip Hubley (Rick "Hollywood" Neven), and James Tolkan (Tom "Stinger" Jardian) Directed by Tony Scott.
Review:
"Jerry was the first person to see the energy and dynamism that ad directors could bring to movies because he was from a commercials background himself."
A main core is only as successful as the parts that come with it. Tony Scott was born in Tynemouth, England as the youngest of three sons; when his older brother Ridley shot his first film in 1962, he cast his brother as the lead. At any rate, the younger Scott studied at Sunderland Art School and the Royal College of Art before he decided to join his brother in making advertisement films (as was the case with other soon-to-be directors like Alan Parker and Adrian Lyne). Of course, he did do his own shorts with One of the Missing (1968) and Loving Memory (1970) before his feature film debut came with The Hunger (made in 1983 to minor attention), but it was his filming in advertisements that would keep him steady for a number of years, and it was his advertisement for automaker Saab (which had a car racing a fighter jet) that raised interest from Jerry Bruckheimer to do this film. Of course, as a young man, Bruckheimer had worked in advertising before moving to producing films in 1972; it was his meeting years later with Don Simpson, who also had years of experience with film production that later led to their first collaboration: Flashdance, released in 1983, would be Bruckheimer and Simpson's first major hit as producer. The movie was inspired by an article called "Top Guns", written originally for California magazine in May 1983 by Ehud Yonay. The article detailed a F-14 pilots training with the Navy Fighter Weapons School program that was noted for its prose and still photography that conveyed what flying a fighter seemed like, as stated by two pilots named "Yogi" and "Possum". Bruckheimer and Don Simpson liked it and thus got Jim Cash and Jack Epps Jr to construct a first draft, although there would be considerable differences before it finally made it to the big screen (which reportedly saw a last-minute rewrite from Warren Skaaren). This also extended to their work with the Department of Defense (a key backer that wanted to maintain that the movie honored the fine points of security, accuracy, policy, and propriety with the story (i.e. a character not suffering a mid-air collision or the love story being changed from between military personnel to a military man and civilian). The technical advisor utilized for the film was Peter "Viper" Pettigrew, a former "Topgun" (as the actual term is referred to) instructor at the Miramar Naval Air Station in Miramar, California.
As stated by its opening card: On March 3, 1969 the United States Navy established an elite school for the top one percent of its pilots. Its purpose was to teach the lost art of aerial combat and to insure that the handful of men who graduated were the best fighter pilots in the world. They succeeded. Today, the Navy calls it Fighter Weapons School. The flyers call it: You get the idea. The last time I saw the film was over a decade ago, and I remember that the film was a "cheesy flick", one that worked best with its action sequences more so than its overall mood and atmosphere. But time does find a new way to write more clear words about a movie that has now reached over three decades of age. If one gets even a fraction of how Yonay felt when he flew in an F-5 for an hour in terms of aching muscles or the thrill of wanting to get up there again, then the movie has obviously succeeded. The sequences in between talking are quite effective in their choreography, ones that serve as a useful tool of conveying action with the strange duality of not churning itself in its look but also conveying violence without drops of blood. Admittedly, the movie served as a useful tool to one thing in particular: the United States Navy, who not only helped support the film but also found plenty of recruits after the movie was released. Perhaps it isn't surprising that Oliver Stone (director of Platoon, which won Best Picture the same year as this film) felt the movie was fascist. Honestly, the parody Hot Shots (1991) might actually be the most appropriate feeling about the movie: a movie that made light of its overt macho nature that doesn't have time to think, instead acting on instinct and not much else. I think the mediocrity that my eyes saw as a fourteen-year-old only slightly changed very slightly as a 25-year old. The best thing about the movie is still the style first and Cruise second. One can see the persistent charisma oozing from Cruise (who had his breakthrough with Risky Business three years prior) that molded him from casual leading man to one with a formula fitting for a big-name presence, and he essentially walks over most of the folks here, to the point where McGillis can't catch up even when "Take My Breath Away" is blaring. Edwards provides warm energy to the early part of the proceedings for a movie that set a tone as a so-called movie for the "bros", if you will. Kilmer (who had early success in comedies like Top Secret!) has his own kind of icy charm that is just as confident and self-assured as Cruise. Skerritt and Tolkan are useful tools for authority foils, ones fitting of a sports movie filled with recognizable people meant to induce a wise-ass remark or smile. Besides, sports movies could only wish to be as eccentric with their opening besides seeing someone take a photo from up above. I think the opening with Stockwell going through a panic attack in the air is probably the best actual sequence of dialogue and visual sense; the volleyball sequence may be talked about to death, but honestly it only seems to exist as an offshoot to all of the other scenes that seem shot for a commercial rather than anything to seriously dissect. I respect the craft while also recognizing that the script quality is essentially on a level equivalent to an adventure movie where inevitability is king. It is probably how driving a car from the 1980s would turn out: it may look sleek, but one has to watch out for the simple things. For a number of years, the idea of a Top Gun sequel came up a couple of times in the 21st century, even with the suicide of Scott in 2012, and after a number of years in film/development, Top Gun: Maverick was released in late May 2022. It isn't a surprise that this followed along the lines of other sequels to movies long ago, because Top Gun is a curious representation of its era: bold, set firmly in its time, and possibly ripe for further viewing if one is in the mindset for what it wants to sell.
Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.
Next Review: Top Gun: Maverick.
