Review #552: 'Top Gun' (1986)

Following his shocking suicide earlier this year, director Tony Scott's legend was cemented, with actors and fellow directors flooding to pay tribute to the man that delivered the likes of The Last Boy Scout (1991) and Crimson Tide (1995). Personally, with the greatest respect, I feel his death has overshadowed what was a relatively average career, in which his finest achievement, the Tarantino-scripted True Romance (1993), was possibly his most low-octane film, given that he is most fondly remembered for his work in the action field. Therefore, it seemed the perfect time to re-visit his most popular film, Top Gun, the high-fiving homoerotica-fest that cemented the careers of both Scott and star Tom Cruise, a film that they are still, 26 years later, best remembered for.

With top fighter pilot Cougar (John Stockwell) losing his nerve during a dogfight and dropping out of the Air Force, hot-shot pilot Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell is offered the chance to join the Top Gun flight school. Fancying himself as the best of the best, Maverick, along with his RIO lieutenant Goose (Anthony Edwards), sets about establishing a name for himself with grand stunts and a cocky attitude, almost coming to blows with his fellow elite students, namely Iceman (Val Kilmer). He even finds time to romance instructor Charlie Blackwood (Kelly McGillis). But when a tragic accident occurs, Maverick must do a bit of soul-searching, and question his ability to live up to the legend of his father.

For a film that remains so immensely popular, Top Gun is shockingly bad. The almost unbearable swagger of the now slightly creepy Scientology dwarf Tom Cruise leads to many moments of teeth-grinding anger-inducement, with the much-imitated You've Got That Lovin' Feeling karaoke moment being simply embarrassing. But with most square-jawed, Reagan-era 1980's action films comes much hilarity, with the best-selling soundtrack proving to be the king of synthesised cheddar, and the near-constant homoeroticism questioning the era's view of a 'man's man'. The volleyball scene is especially jaw-dropping, with slow-motion arse-slapping and greased-up torso's aplenty, playing out like a pre-sex ritual by Cruise and Kilmer.

The film is real justification of Tony Scott's reputation as a great action director. The dogfight scenes are filmed beautifully, with rapid editing and spectacular framing generating real excitement between all the crud (especially impressive given the cost of flying these machines and the heavily-restricted time-frames in which the crew had to shoot within). Yet whenever the film is in danger of getting quite good, it delves into another cliche or shifts the focus back to the uninvolving romance between Maverick and Charlie, with scenes involving Maverick's inner-demon fighting especially causing the fists to clench. With a film having the ability to be so bad and rather good in equal measures, it's hard to really justify it's massive fan-base and endless imitations, yet it's also difficult to deny.


Directed by: Tony Scott
Starring: Tom Cruise, Kelly McGillis, Val Kilmer, Anthony Edwards, Tom Skerritt, Michael Ironside
Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #290: 'Visiting Hours' (1982)

With the Leveson inquiry displaying the inherent underhanded practices of journalist, ironically in the media at the moment, it seemed quite apt to watch this early 1980's thriller about a stalker attempting to kill a TV journalist, Deborah Ballin (Lee Grant). Admittedly, this particular spewer-of-the-news has not hacked into any phone of celebrity or grieving family. Instead, Colt Hawker (the always sinister looking Michael Ironside) dislikes Ballin's ultra-feminist views, which are shown in an early interview. Her producer, Gary Baylor (the always exaggerated ham, William Shatner), expresses his concern, believing that her outspoken views could attract violence. Inevitably Colt attacks at her apartment that night, but unknowingly only injures her, landing her in hospital.

On discovering his failure, he attempts attacking her in the hospital. This is pretty pedestrian storytelling. It is often placed within the sub-genre of slasher films. However, Visiting Hours has none of the signifier's associated with films such as Halloween (1978) or Friday the 13th (1980): No point-of-view from the killers perspective; no puritanical equation of sex and death; no supernatural being and undead icon (Freddy Krueger/Jason Voorhees/Michael Myers). Instead of stylistic verve, it often feels like a contemporary TV movie, which is exacerbated by the music (although there are moments of brilliance in the score). As Colt's attempts to get to the guarded journalist become too difficult, he moves onto a young nurse, Sheila Munroe (Linda Purl).

Colt Hawker is evidently a misogynist. Whilst we occasionally see flashbacks of the abuse he and his mother suffered at the hands of his father, we are never really furnished with the ability to dig any further - we can perhaps only surmise that it is simply feminism itself, the changing power-balance of genders, that he is attacking. After all, the women he stalks or kills are evidently independent, working women. A strange entry into the Video Nasties list, this is a film that bores more that it creates suspense. The main saving grace is that powerful, contorting face of Ironside. I swear that whenever he gets angry on film, his face looks like it will explode (I know we did see that in Scanners (1982), but he does it in nearly all of his films).


Directed by: Jean-Claude Lord
Starring: Michael Ironside, Lee Grant, Linda Purl, William Shatner
Country: Canada

Rating: **

Marc Ivamy