When all the cylinders fire properly, it’s hard to beat a star-driven action melodrama.
Although this rip-roaring sequel to 1986’s Top Gun has been shaped to Tom Cruise’s outsized personality, there’s no denying the resulting entertainment value. This is classic Hollywood filmmaking: larger-than-life characters with just enough individuality to distinguish one from the next; a couple shades of interpersonal angst — and conflict — to touch the heartstrings; and all manner of heroic derring-do.
 |
| When his hot-shot students contemptuously snicker over Maverick's (Tom Cruise) calm insistense that they still have a lot to learn, it doesn't take long for this "old guy" to prove who really has the right stuff. |
Director Joseph Kosinski and editor Eddie Hamilton keep a steady hand on the throttle, and their tension-fueled ride never lets up.
Granted, this is one of those silly stories where everybody is known by colorful monikers, rather than their actual names. Ya gotta just roll with that.
In a refreshing nod to real time, more than three decades have passed since Pete “Maverick” Mitchell (Cruise) established himself as one of the Navy’s top aviators. He has continued to push the envelope as a brave — and somewhat reckless — test pilot, nimbly dodging an advancement in rank that would ground him.
“It’s not what I am,” he admits, at one point. “It’s who I am.”
Each time a fresh act of insubordination has threatened to get him kicked out of the Navy, Maverick has been rescued by former nemesis-turned-wingman Tom “Iceman” Kazansky (Val Kilmer), now a 4-star admiral with the clout to protect his longtime friend.
But even Iceman may not be able to save Maverick from the high-tech progress that includes robotic and remote-controlled fighter jets that won’t require flesh-and-blood pilots.
“The future is coming,” barks Rear Adm. Chester “Hammer” Cain (Ed Harris, in a fleeting cameo), “and you’re not in it.”
Nonsense, Maverick replies. A mission’s success always will come down to the split-second reflexes of the pilot on the scene.
As if to test this belief, Maverick abruptly is sent back to “Top Gun” school, where he liaises with Adm. Beau “Cyclone” Simpson (Jon Hamm) and Adm. Solomon “Warlock” Bates (Charles Parnell). Assuming he’s about to get a mission, Maverick is chastened to learn that he’ll be teaching a dozen much younger Top Gun graduates: the elite “best of the best.”
He has three weeks to assemble a team of six for an insanely impossible mission. (Is there any other kind?) The goal: to destroy an underground uranium enrichment plant, before the material can be made into nuclear-grade weapons. The only way in: ground-level flying through a lengthy, twisty canyon — in less than three minutes — in order to evade numerous protective missile banks.
(In a nod to international markets, this weapons facility belongs to “the enemy,” with no mention of country, nationality or religion. That’s clever, but it does make some of the dialogue a bit clumsy.)
Several of the elite twelve stand out:
• Cocky, insufferably arrogant Jake “Hangman” Seresin (Glen Powell), forever elevating himself at the expense of others;
• Plucky, grit-and-spunk Natasha “Phoenix” Trace (Monica Barbaro), determined to prove that a woman can pilot a fighter as well as any man;
• Quiet, unassuming Robert “Bob” Floyd (Lewis Pullman), a weapons system operator whose lack of a colorful nickname prompts plenty of good-natured mocking; and
• Gung-ho warriors Reuben “Payback” Fitch (Jay Ellis) and Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia (Danny Ramirez), always up for a challenge.
But their new teacher is primarily concerned about Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw (Miles Teller), the son of Maverick’s late friend and radar intercept officer, Nick “Goose” Bradshaw. Rooster has a long-festering chip on his shoulder, due to Maverick’s earlier interference in his life; as a result, the younger man has compensated with his own brand of reckless and insubordinate behavior. (You can feel the testosterone boiling.)
Their prickly relationship climaxes during a brief exchange in the tumultuous third act, which draws a quick chuckle for the way it skewers Maverick’s Yoda-like guidance to these youngsters: “Don’t think; just do.”
Rooster and Goose aren’t the only nods to the 1986 film; this sequel slips in several flashback sequences that honor its predecessor, along with nods to composer Harold Faltermeyer’s original main themes. And the final, deliciously clever touch: Jennifer Connelly’s sensitive turn as Penny Benjamin, a character only name-checked in the original film. She’s the bright, independent and comfortably happy owner of The Hard Deck aviators’ club, where all the pilots congregate after hours.
She’s also a single mom who shares history with Maverick. Connelly and Cruise have a charming, flirty rapport while their characters contemplate the wisdom of trying not to revive old times. (Yeah, like that’ll take…)
Cruise’s brief scene with Kilmer also is deeply emotional — and not just in terms of this story — when one recalls what the latter has endured during the past six years.
All this engaging character interaction aside, this film gets its energy from the many realistic flying sequences. This adds a layer of intensity that simply doesn’t come from CGI trickery. Cruise and producer Jerry Bruckheimer insisted on authenticity, with the dog-fighting overseen by Naval Aviation Technical Advisor Capt. Brian M. Ferguson and aerial coordinator/stunt pilot Kevin La Rosa II.
The press notes make a point of mentioning that Cruise underwent Naval Aviation Survival Training, in order to look “right” in this saga’s ubiquitous F/A-18 Super Hornet (which is not to say he actually flew it). Additional appearances include a WWII-era P-51 Mustang (Cruise’s own plane) and, on the enemy’s side, nasty-looking, dark black Sukhoi Su-57s.
(As the story progresses, and the structure/approach of the canyon run and subsequent bombing attempt become clear, one can’t help seeing an echo of Luke Skywalker’s climactic X-wing run to destroy the Death Star, back in 1977.)
All else aside, we’re never allowed to forget that this is a Tom Cruise Vanity Project. There’s no other excuse for the occasional display of his buff physique and chiseled abs — which, at age 59, compare favorably with those of co-stars half his age — and his frequently displayed, cat-ate-the-canary grin. One does wish Kosinski and cinematographer Claudio Miranda didn’t rely so heavily on tight-tight close-ups, but that’s to be expected.
And, in fairness, when the result is this much fun — building to a pell-mell 30-minute climax — Cruise can be forgiven such touches.
No comments:
Post a Comment