OPINION:
This summer Americans are experiencing something special, almost spiritual with the release of “Top Gun: Maverick.” It’s more than a film. It’s an experience that inspires and empowers us, and the guy who is giving it to us is the same guy who always gives it to us — Tom Cruise.
For those of us who grew up during the 1980s when the original “Top Gun” was first released, we remember a time when heroism was championed. We were encouraged to lead from the front, not behind. Confidence was applauded, bravery was admired, and America was celebrated, not derogated.
So when Mr. Cruise returned on screen more than 35 years later as Maverick, he brought America back into the danger zone where it belongs. Contrary to “woke” fiction, the danger zone is America’s comfort zone, and that’s why Maverick will forever be admired as one of our nation’s most endeared fictional heroes.
In Maverick, we see the deepest vision of whom we aspire to be. The bold hero who shines in their rugged individuality. The passionate crusader who takes risks to protect his friends. Courage and conviction without bowing to the fear of consequences. With Maverick, our fighting spirit instantly connects with what it really means to be an American.
What makes Mr. Cruise’s acting quality so believable in all his films, is the fact that he is not unrealistically fearless. Gwyneth Paltrow elicits this sentiment to her co-star Ben Affleck in the film “Bounce” when she accurately tells him, “It’s not brave if you’re not scared.”
The human connection Mr. Cruise makes with his audience is his hesitation, revealing a deep embedded but natural vulnerability all the while surrendering his heart to what Pink Floyd calls, “a momentary lapse of reason.” We see this inspirational fighting spirit in many of Mr. Cruise’s characters.
As Brian Flanagan in “Cocktail,” he overcomes blue-collar insecurities by bolting past security to win back his aristocratic, uptown love Jordan Mooney. As Lt. Daniel Caffey in “A Few Good Men,” he conquers his fears of a court-martial in a brief, deliberate pause before tearing into Col. Nathan Jessup. As Mitch McDeere in “The Firm,” he risks his life to save his long-forgotten brother — and his marriage — by turning the tables on his senior partners, the government and the mob.
As Lt. Pete Mitchell in “Top Gun,” there are many momentary lapses of reason, which become the theme of the film — the bold individual who wrestles between his brave heart and what his instructor Viper calls, “a confidence problem.” He has the potential, the drive and an almost irresistible urge to take chances, but deep inside, a part of him is unsure of himself.
Ultimately, Maverick is relatable because he’s like a lot of us: Uncertain but passionate, and despite those natural fears, he still can’t resist risking to go all in. He risks public humiliation by serenading Charlotte Blackwood, breaks the hard deck to shoot down Jester and makes signature unauthorized flybys by the control tower. He never lets us down.
As an older, more experienced Cpt. Pete Mitchell in “Top Gun: Maverick,” our hero takes his character to a defining, pinnacle Cruise moment. In what is undeniably a coded and symbolic, but inspiring exchange, Maverick is leaving Rear Adm. Chester “Hammer” Cain’s office after learning he’s once again been spared getting grounded by Adm. Tom “Iceman” Kazansky. Furious that his plans were foiled, the rear admiral tries to break the pilot as he walks out the door.
“The end is inevitable, Maverick,” Hammer warns. “Your kind is headed for extinction.”
Maverick pauses as Hammer’s words register, and after that famous Cruise moment of deliberation, he shakes it off and confidently smiles.
“Maybe so, sir. But not today.”
This line is not actually about Maverick. It’s about America.
For decades, our nation’s detractors have said the so-called “American experiment” is coming to an end. Despite these dark predictions by her many critics and enemies alike, it’s never happened. It never will.
Maverick is and always has been an allegory for the United States. The symbolism is embedded in the notion that, like Maverick, she never falters because she never follows. She makes her own decisions. Maverick remains undefeated precisely because he takes principled stands and risks others will not.
This sentiment of unrelenting underdog courage in the face of risk is the surge of inspiration Mr. Cruise offers both as Maverick, and the many other characters he has played. He gives Americans what they really want from Hollywood — a reminder of what we’re all capable of when we’re brave enough to pursue it. No modern actor more than Tom Cruise has that kind of impact or has become as engrained in our patriotic culture.
To date, Mr. Cruise has never received an Academy Award. This year’s comeback as Maverick did more than just leave a legacy on screen in Hollywood. It inspired our nation.
It’s time for Hollywood to give the all-American hero the win he deserves.
• Jeffrey Scott Shapiro is a former Washington prosecutor who also served as a U.S. Army Reserve judge advocate and a senior U.S. official from 2017 to 2021. He now serves on the editorial board for The Washington Times.
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