Top Gun: Maverick

36 years ago, Tom Cruise starred in Top Gun, the highest grossing movie of that year. At the time, he was among the most popular movie stars. One thing that has changed from 1986 to 2022 is that Cruise stands alone as the world’s biggest film star. No actor who was a box-office force when Top Gun was released—I’m thinking of Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sylvester Stallone, Eddie Murphy, and Clint Eastwood—pulls in the people like Cruise does today. (Admittedly, Eastwood was a star in the 1960s, and Stallone first burst into America’s consciousness in the 1970s.) At 59, Cruise’s career remains remarkably self-sustaining and, with Mission Impossible movies slated for 2023 and 2024, I expect he’ll retain his enormous popularity for years.

One reason Cruise has stayed on top is this: he wants to make the very best movies he can. He has enough money to be one of the producers of the sequel, Top Gun: Maverick, and enough clout as the film’s star to do things his way. Cruise was asked to do a sequel for years and he refused. It was obvious to all involved if Cruise was a no-go, there would be no movie. Once he signed on, Cruise insisted the actors who portray pilots go in the planes, though as passengers, not flyers. They were first in prop planes, and, later, in F-18s. The actors spent three months learning to assuage the adverse effects of riding in insanely fast jets. Cruise wanted audiences to see jets being flown, feel the intensity, and not be put off by CGI. In my mind, his idea very much succeeded. By pushing those he works with to make as authentic a work as they could, Cruise and company have made an entertaining movie.

Maverick (Cruise) is ordered to return to the Navy’s fighter training program (better known as Top Gun), displeasing Vice Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson (Jon Hamm), the commander of Naval Air Forces. The orders originate from Maverick’s old rival, Admiral Tom “Iceman” Kazinsky (Val Kilmer), a decorated officer who is gravely ill. Although he’s an accomplished pilot, Maverick has been brought back to Top Gun not to fly, but to teach grads to navigate a dicey mission travelling fast at a low altitude. Pilots will be chosen to drop bombs on a uranium plant that is protected by a mountain range and the enemy’s radar and defense system. The country isn’t named to avoid political fallout.

This action movie does an uncommonly efficient job of explaining the mission, why it’s important, and why pilots are essential in an era where so many assignments are accomplished by drones. I suppose what I’m getting at is the idea of bringing back pilots to populate a Top Gun sequel isn’t merely a crummy excuse for action. And the credit for that should go to screenwriters Ehren Kruger, Eric Warren Singer, and Christopher McQuarrie (from a story by Peter Craig and Justin Marks).

The writer’s use the Top Gun blueprint. Some examples: early flight scenes where pilots test their abilities; Maverick saves a pilot in trouble; a romance; Maverick demonstrates his bravery (which is viewed by the higher-ups as recklessness); bar scenes; instructional sequences; volleyball/football played on the sand; tragedy/conflict with the son, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw (Miles Teller), of a late friend; the heroic flight climax; and romance wrap up. I prefer this sequel because the mission tightens the movie’s focus more than the 1986 action drama. I don’t expect this script to win any awards, yet it does the job. For instance, it got me—with the assistance of the actors—to care about the most important people, such as Maverick, Goose’s (Anthony Edwards’) son Rooster, and Penny (Jennifer Connelly), who ignites Maverick’s interest. It’s less successful with some characters, though. The young pilots have an early little section where many of them reveal they’re as cocksure as Maverick was when he was a young buck. Yet most aren’t individualized in a way that would make them stand out. And while movies need drama in small ways too, having Cyclone be overly critical of Maverick’s let’s-do-it-my-way approach doesn’t add as much tension as the movie wants. Cyclone plays a similar role as CDR Tom “Stinger” Jardian (James Tolkan) portrayed in Top Gun, but the part isn’t given enough nuance.

After many decades onscreen, Tom Cruise remains enormously likable. As Maverick, he’s affable, particularly in his renewed relationship with Penny. With her, Maverick is easygoing and not overly sensitive, as when he’s tossed out of Penny’s bar and takes his punishment with a smile. Speaking of smiling, Cruise gives his share of grins, but he doesn’t overdo it as he sometimes used to, like in Top Gun and The Color of Money. And he’s forceful in his action sequences. Miles Teller gives Rooster pent-up bitterness that gives some traction to the beef between Maverick and him. Jennifer Connelly is a pleasing screen presence as Penny, and Val Kilmer does well in his reunion with Maverick. John Hamm doesn’t have a sparkling role (as I said) as Cyclone Simpson. He doesn’t do much except act dour, and while he could have shown a bit more of his character’s humanity, he still performs acceptably.

Jospeh Kosinski’s direction gives the movie a winning vitality. The aerial dogfights are exciting, and there are some breathtaking parts to the extended grand finale. Close-ups and medium close-ups are often used to film the pilots, almost making me believe I was in the planes with them. The camerawork and visuals in the air are extraordinary. There’s a remarkable cloud formation, for instance, as Maverick flies a scramjet craft, hoping to get it to Mach 10. The sound design is fine, and so is Eddie Hamilton’s editing. The generally propulsive score, by Harold Faltermeyer, Lady Gaga, and Hans Zimmer, matches the action and successfully captures the emotions.

Though he’s decades older, Maverick hasn’t really grown much. He’s still an action-first guy who’s trying to prevent officers from implementing orders he knows are wrong, as when Rear Admiral Chester “Hammer” Cain (Ed Harrris) arrives to shut down the hypersonic “Darkstar” program and Maverick’s actions prevent that, or when Cylcone wants the pilots to take a more conservative method than Maverick has been pushing and Maverick proves his way is correct. Maverick’s actions may not be right for military protocol, but they are right for Top Gun: Maverick.

Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness

I like the title, even if Dr. Strange’s journey through the multiverse is very brief. What can’t be argued with is this superhero film is jammed with madness. It plunges viewers into various terrifying realities, with welcome sprinkles of horror. This is a large, broad, dark, sometimes inventive, and refreshingly different Marvel movie. Its numerous imperfections, though, fiercely battle its many positives for supremacy.

In 2019, before the pandemic, Marvel movies dominated the box office, lodging three of the five highest grossing flicks that year (Avengers: Endgame, Spider-Man: Far from Home, and Captain Marvel). The studio’s next three releases, Black Widow, Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, and Eternals, failed to bring people to theaters on the same level. Last year’s Spier-Man: No Way Home proved Marvel remains a financial juggernaut. Robert Downey Jr., Scarlett Johansson, and Chris Evans have exited Marvel and the studio has turned to Benjamin Cumberbatch to make the sequel to Doctor Strange a smash. Doctor Strange was a character in No Way Home, keeping him fresh in people’s minds to give Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness a considerable opportunity to be enormously popular. Given its current lack of competition at movie theaters, its success seems assured.

For those who don’t remember, Stephen Strange (Benjamin Cumberbatch) was once a neurosurgeon who lost his dexterity in a car crash. Strange has a quasi-nightmare involving teenager America Chavez (Xochitl Gomez), who claims she’s being hunted because she can travel through the multiverse. Strange turns to Wanda (Elizabeth Olsen) for assistance, but he discovers Wanda, also known as the Scarlet Witch, because she desires to be reunited with her sons in an alternate universe, is prepared to hunt for and kill America and steal her power. Since Wanda can’t be reasoned with, Strange, his mentor Wong (Benedict Wong), whose title is the Sorcerer Supreme, and America confront her, hoping to stop her.

Sam Raimi, hired to replace Scott Dickerson (who helmed Doctor Strange) after creative differences, directs for the first time since he made the pedestrian Oz the Great and Powerful. It doesn’t take long to realize Raimi appears far more engaged with this material than with his last cinematic offering. Raimi handles the scene where Strange takes on a gigantic cyclopian octopus with aplomb, showcasing Strange’s abilities as a superhero and doing it with the director’s customary energy. (Light spoiler) Strange later wants to prevent Wanda from entering a room and Wanda gets in by using reflections. Because of Raimi’s use of different shots hinting that Wanda has her way of breaking through the Strange’s defenses, it’s pleasurable to see. Strange and America traveling through multiverses contains the best visuals, including paint and animated dimensions, and is dramatically memorable too. Raimi keeps the action rolling along entertainingly and gets help from editors Bob Murawski and Tia Nolan, who use a fade from a scene involving Strange and Wanda to one with Wong, almost as though he’s in the same sequence. One reason (I think) it’s done is to keep the film moving and not allow the time between scenes to be dull. It works.

Frequently, the sights and sounds are niftily effective. One favorite is Strange’s musical fight sequence with his alternate universe self. Notes appear on the screen, and they can be heard as music when they are thrown. It’s an inspired idea that makes the battle between the Stranges a beaut. In another part, waterdops fall from the ceiling. Raimi gets a little more mileage out of the images by having drops fall in slow motion, and I love the pronounced sound they make. Danny Elfman’s score is also wonderful. Examples: the ethereal music after the Scarlet Witch’s destruction late in the film, Elfman capturing the drama as the Scarlet Witch sees two children with their real mother, and the tender violins in the last scene with Strange and his ex, Christine (Rachel McAdams).

Benjamin Cumberbatch doesn’t have a glowing screen personality. He’s not as fun as Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) and he’s never made me empathize with him as Spider-Man (the Tobey Maguire version anyway) has. Still, he exudes a seriousness that’s right for Doctor Strange. Elizabeth Olsen does a top-notch job as Wanda/Scarlet Witch. When she talks to Strange about “sacrifice” the emotion in her voice implies why she won’t compromise with him. Olsen is just as potent illustrating her wrath. Had she given an average portrayal, the movie would have gone down a couple of notches because her character as written isn’t that credible. Benedict Wong performs respectably as Wong. Graham Churchyard’s handsome costumes also merit praise.

But an awful lot goes wrong. Perhaps I should start with something I touched on a few sentences ago—Wanda’s character. The mini-series Wandavision deals with Wanda’s grief as she realizes she is hurting people and learns to let go. Granted, there’s a mid-credits scene where Wanda pores over the Darkhold while the voices of Billy and Tommy cry out in the background. It’s obvious Wanda is going to be the movie’s villain. Still, screenwriter Michael Waldron could have added a bit more to her story and made her more complex. Making Wanda ready to kill anyone who gets in her way reduces her to a monster. The script doesn’t tell how Wanda finds out about America, something it clearly should have done because the film needs that link. Thanos was incredibly powerful, but he was also thoughtful, even if his views somehow made him more sinister. Wanda is a Big Bad, though not an interesting one. I suppose with the long runtime (126 minutes), the filmmakers believed audiences might have balked if they added a few extra minutes—a mistake because it would have made Wanda more compelling.

Then there’s America. In a way, her character is critical to the proceedings because Wanda wants her power, yet Waldron’s script gives America almost no emphasis. One of the reasons Spider-Man (2002), also directed by Raimi, was so entertaining is because scriptwriter David Koepp gives the title character a story involving his uncle, Ben Parker (Cliff Robertson), that resonates. Here, however, Strange is about to kill America because he says she doesn’t know how to control her power. I wanted to see examples of America’s enormous strength overwhelming her. They’re not in the movie. As a result, she comes off as more of a plot device than a character. America should also grow during the action so when she’s told to use her power, her change is believable. This part too is bungled. Strange gives a reason why she’s ready (as she wasn’t at the beginning), but his words aren’t persuasive.

I like that the studio allowed Raimi freedom to be himself at times in this sequel. There are some enjoyably surreal touches, like little crashing waves in a teacup, and, as I’ve mentioned, the musical notes being a part of the action. But Wanda doesn’t seem right for this world. She’s like a Disney character and, although Wanda seeks her out more than any other, it’s obvious nothing terrible will happen to her. She must “trust” herself and be who she truly is to harness her power—stuff that’s mind-numbingly cliché. (Spoilers) And what happens when she unleashes her power? She throws punches. Come on. And I don’t like what they did with the Illuminati, who are presented as serious, talented people. But they are dispatched so quickly, it’s like Wanda had to battle a bunch of ordinary men and women, who, given the resistance they show, should be on their way to a costume party.

Even the Strange-Christine section isn’t moving. A superhero who spells out his feelings for a former lover who has married someone else should be an emotion crusher. Yet as I looked around the theater as that scene concluded, there wasn’t a wet eye in the house. The sad reality is the human element in this film isn’t close to where it should be.

Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness will provide superhero movie fans with a lot of skilfully orchestrated action. It’s too bad that the screenplay doesn’t clip on the hook ups that would make the flick as emotionally fulfilling as it had the chance to be.

Memory

I have seen four reviews of this action-thriller and all of them use the word “forgettable.” Why? I assume that’s a little joke because it doesn’t stay in the “memory.” Yet while an unforgettable (in a good way) flick is obviously far superior to unmemorable one, Liam Neeson action movies can be entertaining without staying in my mind days after I’ve seen it. Take Non-Stop, for example. Neeson played a U.S. Air Marshall on a plane. That’s all I remember except Neeson kicking ass in the sky. I don’t care about long-term memories in his films since Neeson (starting with Taken) has turned into one of cinema’s most popular action stars, though admittedly he seems to be nearing the end of his run. I want action, and I want to enjoy myself. That’s it.

In Memory, Neeson is Alex Lewis, a contract killer in demand by the cartels near Texas-Mexico border. Because he’s afflicted with Alzheimer’s and periodically loses his memory, he writes on his arms to remind himself of key details. This very much recalls the neo-noir mystery thriller Momento, in which the lead character Leonard Shelby uses tattoos and notes to assist him with his memory loss. The man who played Shelby is Guy Pearce, who’s also in this movie as FBI agent Vincent Serra. Alex has decided to stop being a paid killer after his next gig. When he realizes his next target is a teenage girl, who has been used in a child trafficking operation, he refuses to the job. Alex hears the girl was killed and believes it was corrupt real estate mogul Davana Sealman (Monica Bellucci). Serra knows Lewis is a hitman and hopes to bring him in.

There’s more to it than an FBI agent versus a hired killer. Serra is part of raid that led to the killing of the girl’s father and feels culpable about leaving her vulnerable (as she waits to be deported to Mexico) when she’s executed. While Alex goes on a killing rampage to get to Sealman, Serra comes to believe the FBI is deceitful in its dealings with wealthy people. He doesn’t think the bureau wants to prosecute the super rich, and he’s after information he thinks will force a superior to act against Sealman.

Memory, based on the novel De zaak Alzheimer by Jef Geeraerts, is a remake of the Belgian crime thriller The Memory of a Killer, the book’s earlier (and much better) adaptation. While there’s a lot going on, this actioner rates somewhere between poor and average. It’s watchable in its first act, adequately setting up Alex’s mental struggles and the FBI agents’ attempts to catch him. The movie, like many thrillers (Saboteur, North by Northwest, The Fugitive, The Sentinel), has a double-pursuit structure: Alex boils to get to Sealman, while agents Serra and Linda Amistead (Taj Atwal) track Alex. There’s a scene where Alex leaves his phone for Serra and Linda to find as Richard Kimble does for Samuel Gerard (Tommy Lee Jones) in The Fugitive. Although Alex is guilty and Kimble isn’t, the former leaves clues as a way get Serra to understand he’s after someone far more heinous than himself. What those thrillers have that this one doesn’t is a sense of rushing motion. Rather than having a bunch of chase sequences where Serra and Linda nearly nab Alex, too often it’s as though Alex and the FBI agents are in different movies. This is the fault of screenwriter Dario Scardapane and director Martin Campbell, both of whom should know that the excitement created by law enforcement trying to capture the person on the run is the lifeblood of this kind of thriller. Campbell’s pacing is inconsistent too. He shoots Alex’s tale using a quick tempo (the style normally associated with a Neeson flick), yet he gives Serra’s story a more moderate speed, again revealing the director’s inability to make the plot strands mesh.

There are other flaws. The villains are horrible. No, I’m not saying they’re terrible people (though they are). I’m saying they are so scantily sketched, it’s impossible to care about them. Sealman’s son is involved in child trafficking, but he gets so little screen time he doesn’t matter. Sealman is shown in opulent surrounding and says she wants to live forever, though nothing is done with that tidbit. She kills people, and since she’s got Detective Danny Mora (Ray Stevenson) under her control, she knows she’ll never be prosecuted. Had the movie concentrated on her more, she could have been an asset. But I knew little about her, other than she’s very bad. And the sound is so fortissimo, it’s off-putting. When Serra pushes a book and another item to Beatriz (Mia Sanchez), the sound department makes it sound like a slammed door. Alex thrusting a guy into a bathroom stall sounds like a wrecking ball smashing into a building. David Tattersall's cinematography is unattractive too.

Guy Pearce plays Vincent Serra competently. He’s in more of the movie than Neeson (at least, that seems to be true), and he lends his character plausible concern. While Memory gives his part of the movie more focus than Detective Eric Vincke (Koen De Bouw) had in The Memory of a Killer, Serra’s hatred for rich lowlifes who order hits and live above the law doesn’t produce the charge it should because the film doesn’t show enough examples of it. And while Pearce does what he can as Serra, he isn’t able to shape him into a vital character. Ray Stevenson gives Detective Danny Mora some force, which is welcome (since the villains are weak), although his Texas accent is feeble. Taj Atwai could have chalked up a few points with personality; unfortunately, I didn’t detect much. Harold Torres seems out of place as Hugo Marquez, a Mexican officer trying to kill Alex. He seems very much thrown into a movie that doesn’t need him. While that’s not his fault, Torres doesn’t seem fully relaxed in this part. Ray Fearon is lousy as Serra’s boss Gerald Nussbaum. He gets his face to be serious, but his expression rarely changes, and he never comes within miles of being a good character. He very much seems to be acting. Sadly, Monica Bellucci is stiff as Davana Sealman, making an underdeveloped character worse.

Then there’s Liam Neeson. While I’ve seen reviews stating that Neeson plays the same character he typically does, I don’t think that’s true. Alex isn’t the hero saving people from the bad guy—he is a bad guy. Admittedly, when compared the thugs he’s up against, he comes off as somewhat sympathetic. Besides that, he’s got Alzheimer’s, quite a departure from the cool-headed characters Neeson has portrayed in so many roles since 2008. A problem with this adaptation is it cuts down on Alex’s scenes (from the 2003 adaptation) and adds to Serra’s without making Serra’s frustrations engrossing. This change also limits Neeson’s performance. If he had more screen time, Neeson might have given a touching depiction. It’s clear toward the end when Alex speaks to Serra and leaves the vehicle that the moving film Campbell was attempting to make and the emotion Neeson hoped to evoke don’t happen.

Still, Neeson remains frequently in solid form. He has a presence few action heroes of his generation can touch. He can also mow down his foes with eye-grabbing ferocity. He also succeeds in illustrating pain. After he gets shot, his method of cauterizing the wound is shocking and he communicates the pain he endures extremely well. He’s just as good when he fears his memory has fooled him, like when he awakes and frantically asks the woman he picked up if he had been there all night. I must confess, it’s unsettling to see Neeson so vulnerable because he has made himself a household name by depicting tough characters. Seeing him so frail in voice and, at times, in emotion isn’t what I expect to see when he stars in an action thriller. And while his choice of scripts has been off in his past few flicks, Neeson continues to do all he can with the characters he plays.