The sequel is a nostalgic, fun comeback for an actor whose real-life persona makes it easy to forget how good he is on-screen
Before going to the movies this week to see Top Gun: Maverick, I hadn’t thought about Tom Cruise for a while. Or rather, I hadn’t thought about him in his capacity as a movie star. Cruise’s reputation has ranged over the years from hero to villain to general curiosity. At nearly 60, one might imagine he’s done. Instead, here he is, skin stretched taut by forces greater than G-force, at the helm of a $170m action movie that broke US box office records on its opening weekend. We’ve been through a lot with Cruise, but I’m going to say it: he’s the last great movie star and this film, coming at a dismal moment in history, is close to being the perfect distraction.
The original Top Gun was released in 1986 and the makers of the sequel have shrewdly leaned into the nostalgia, updating the fighter jets and crew, but soaking every other detail in references to the original. It’s all there, from the opening words on-screen, to the jump-jets landing on the carrier, to the flagrant gay-wash of the first film: tight white T-shirts, aviator shades, a dim feeling, much discussed by gay women, that Cruise is basically a lesbian. (More on this another time). Because of all this, and the thrill of watching F-18s fight over unnamed enemy territory, Top Gun: Maverick hit $160m at the US box office on its opening weekend, with the smallest drop ever – 29% – to $90m for the second weekend.
Emma Brockes is a Guardian columnist
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