LITTLE TOP GUN: MAVERICK REVIEW UNDER THE CUT (no real spoilers but under read more to be safe)
i literally saw the first movie one time when i was 13 with my dad and yesterday, making it twice in my life that i have seen it. with the first movie fresh in my mind, the second movie feels like a worthy sequel.
in my opinion it feels like a character study of maverick, rightfully so, tom cruise wasn’t the power force he is now back then in the 80s. if you have an actor like that in your hands, you damn well you use it. the movie does a good job setting the new characters while also making a point these are kids basically, young, unexperienced, that someone like maverick can and will fly them over.
it also makes commentary on perhaps, something these sequels do a lot which is the nostalgia, yeah it’s nice, and it feels good but you have to move forward with your life while also, not letting go of what makes you, you.
there is a lot of media right now that brings back things from the past to just say shit like (this is bad, it’s stupid, its cheesy and clique, this is the way forward, young people young people blah blah). but the movie knows that’s not what the people want to see, so the heavy focus is on maverick, rooster (goose’s son and penny, a character named in the first movie).
anyways, i was surprised, the cinematographer wasn’t the same one but it’s clear that there is an homage with the planes and the sunset shots.
very surprised with this film. it’s seriously one of the best movies i have seen in a while and truly, i think it’s one of the best *80s throwback* movies, a love letter to the time it was made, while also moving forward without disrespecting the original thing, which i believe might be because of tom cruise being a producer in the film as well.
You lingered outside the briefing room, waiting for the news you were certain was about to come but yet you prayed didn’t. As much as you knew Rooster wanted on this mission, the thought of him going made your stomach roll and your heart clench. Though you only worked the coms in the control room for the mission and had no clearance for the details of the current assignment, you had managed to sneak a look at the mission plan. It was a near-suicide mission, and everyone knew it. And yet, you knew better than to ask Rooster to step down. It was missions like this that he trained for his entire career, and he wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to fly it. Even for you.
Suddenly, the door to the briefing room flew open and Hangman stormed out. The second you saw his face, all of your fears were confirmed. The only reason he would look that pissed off is if he hadn’t been selected for the team, which meant…..
Rooster walked out of the room, and he stumbled to a stop when he saw you standing there. Without saying a word, he opened his arms and you were instantly in them, wrapped in his tight embrace for what might be the last time. Burying your face into his chest, you said in a muffled voice, “I told you he would pick you. Maverick knows talent when he sees it.”
Rooster sighed as he rested his chin on the top of your head. “Yeah, well, you’re not exactly objective when it comes to my skills.”
You chuckled softly but the sound quickly shifted into a sob. You tried to bite your lip to keep your tears from falling, but it was useless. Rooster placed his hands on your arms and pushed you away from him, getting a good look at your face. “Aw, baby, please don’t. If you cry, I’ll cry and that won’t be good.”
“I’m sorry, I just- I need you to come back. Okay? I can’t…. I can’t sit there and watch you go down.” The tears were flowing more steadily down your face and Rooster reached up and wiped them away with his thumb.
“I’ll come back. I promise.”
You shook your head. “You can’t promise that. There are so many things that could go wrong, so many chances to fail. You know I believe in you, baby, but this….. this isn’t something that just relies on skill. If even the slightest bit of information is incorrect, if they miscalculated anything, this could all go wrong, and I can’t-”
“It’s not going to. I will come back. I promise you. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” He trailed his hand down your cheek before lifting your chin with his thumb. His lips brushed against yours, gentle and soft, and as much as his words were saying differently, you knew this was him telling you goodbye.
You rested your head on his chest once more and the two of you held each other in silence for as long as time permitted.
To everyone’s astonishment, the mission had been accomplished perfectly even with Dagger 4’s laser malfunction. You smiled broadly as pride swelled in your chest as Rooster managed to hit his target without the guidance. However, that feeling quickly faded as he crested over the top of Coffin Corner and into range of the SAMs. As missiles filled the radar screens in the control room, you gripped the arms of your seat so tightly, that the muscles in your arms began to tremble. And it felt as if your heart stopped when Rooster’s desperate cries filled your headset as he informed everyone he was out of flares. But Maverick had flown in at the last second and saved him. And as much as it pained you to see Maverick go down, at least Rooster was safe.
Until he wasn’t. Despite his orders, despite your desperate pleas to him over the coms, Rooster went back for Maverick. And it was then that your world exploded as you watched a SAM slam into his plane before his signal blinked out.
Frantically reaching for your controls, you said, “Dagger 2, come in….” Silence. “Dagger 2, I repeat, co-come in.” Still no response. You jumped to your feet as you slammed the com button and screamed, “Rooster! Answer me!”
The entire control room was deathly silent as you felt every eye on you. But you didn’t care. You just needed Rooster to answer. But he never did.
You collapsed back into your seat in stunned silence, still unable to grasp the reality of what just happened. From somewhere behind you, you heard Vice Admiral Simpson mutter, “Get her out of here” before you felt a pair of hands gently rest on your shoulders and help usher you out into the hall.
It wasn’t until the door to the control room closed that you collapsed to the floor in a heap of sobs and tears. Rooster couldn’t be gone. He just couldn’t. He promised you he would come back. He promised he wouldn’t make you go through watching his readings blink off of your screen, wouldn’t make you watch him go down. Yet, he had gone back for Maverick and made you watch him die.
Another sob rattled through your chest and you felt the hands from before rest softly on your shoulders. Looking up, you saw Hondo staring back at you, a tear running down his face as well. You nodded at him, a sign of thanks and understanding. While you had just lost the man you loved, Hondo had just lost a dear friend who he had served with for many years. The pains you were feeling were different yet not really so dissimilar. And as terrible as it was to think, at least you weren’t alone in your grief.
As he lowered himself to the floor, you slid over and rested your head on his shoulder. Neither one of you said a word. You both just sat silently as you tried to come to terms with what had happened and what you had lost.
After what seemed like an eternity, you managed to stop crying and pull yourself together for the most part. The pain was still there, but the initial shock had started to fade a little, leaving a deep emptiness instead. But you knew that feeling would take much longer to fade.
Just as you were about to ask Hondo how he was doing, the door to the control room flew open and Rear Admiral Bates stuck his head out. “You two need to get back in here now.”
Through your puffy, bloodshot eyes, you looked up at him in confusion. “Sir?”
“We’re receiving a signal from Rooster’s tracker.” Your eyes went wide as your breath caught in your chest. “He’s currently in the air in what appears to be in a F-14 Tomcat headed this way.”
“Maverick.” Hondo chuckled in relief.
Your head swam as you tried to grasp the miracle that was being presented to you. “Are you saying they’re both okay and on their way back?”
Warlock shook his head. “We can’t say for certain. We haven’t been able to hail their craft and…. there appears to be two, possibly three Su-57s closing in on their position.”
Suddenly, the entire ship shook as a roar of a plane taking off sounded from the deck above. Exchanging a confused look with Hondo and Warlock, you all hurried back into the control room where chaos was currently ensuing.
As you looked around, you heard someone saying, “Dagger Spare, you were not cleared for takeoff. I repeat you were not cleared for takeoff.”
A smile spread across your face as you realized what just happened and a voice came in over the comms. “This is Dagger Spare and with all due respect, you’ve been denying my requests to go help my team all mission and I won’t let my fellow pilots die because you refuse to give me authorization. So, I’m willing to take whatever reprimands are warranted when I get back, but I won’t be coming back alone.”
Hangman.You made a note to never bad-mouth the pilot again. He had just risked his career to save Maverick and Rooster and for that, you would never be able to repay him.
There was a pause as the room held its breath, waiting to see what Hangman’s fate would be. Finally, Vice Admiral Simpson sighed and said, “Dagger Spare, you are cleared for the mission. Go bring our men home.”
The room erupted in a cheer as Hangman said, “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Hope soared through you for the first time since you found out Rooster was going on the mission. With Hangman and Maverick (two of the only men in active duty ever to have a confirmed kill in aerial combat) by his side, you knew they would make it.
Rooster was coming home.
They wouldn’t let anyone from the control room up on deck until all aircrafts had safely landed (safety protocols or some bullshit). But the second you received the all-clear, you burst through the door. The deck was swarming with people trying to congratulate the returning pilots, so you had to shove and elbow your way through. Finally, as you approached the spot where the planes had come to a stop, you could see Rooster and Maverick embracing. It looked like an emotional and tender moment that under any other circumstance would have warmed your heart to see the two men seemingly settling their differences. But after what you just went through, you were willing to spoil their moment.
“Rooster!” you screamed.
Immediately, he dropped his hold on Maverick and pivoted towards the sound of your voice. Without saying a word, he opened his arms and you were instantly in them, wrapped in his tight embrace after fearing you never would be again. As you buried your face into his chest, he whispered, “I promised you I’d be back.”
His voice was choked and strained and when you pulled back to look at him, you saw tears shimmering in his eyes. Quickly reaching up to wipe them away, you said, “Oh, baby. Come on. If you cry, I’ll cry, remember? And no one wants to see that.”
“I don’t care, let them see.” Rooster smashed his lips into yours and you quickly returned his embrace with just as much love and devotion. Soon, you could taste the salty sting of tears on your lips and you weren’t sure if they were yours or his but you didn’t mind. Because Rooster was alive and safe and back in your arms. And that was all that mattered.
honestly i gave ice and mav so little credit. i thought they were going to pull a lawrusso and meet again for the first time in 30+ years. meanwhile they’ve been texting on the reg, ice took ‘bullshit, you can be mine’ like a challenge and ultimate vow and then proceeded to be mav’s lifelong wingman, watching over him for literal decades at his own reputation and credibility’s peril to the point that he is being referred to as his 'guardian angel’, pete has been there for tom during his illness and their bond and care for each other has deepened to levels i could have only wished for so much so that mav actually says ‘i can’t do it anymore now that ice is gone’ like GOD!!!!!!!!!! shame on me really
mav keeping all those pictures of bradley and also goose and carole over the years. mav having flashbacks after bradley played great balls of fire on the piano at penny’s bar. mav canonically being bradley’s adopted father until he pulled his academy app. mav taking the blame because he’d rather bradley resent him for the rest of his life than carole. mav desperately not wanting to lose bradley like he did goose. mav and bradley flying that f-14 together. mav and bradley BOTH saying (variations of) talk to me, goose. mav and bradley still loving goose so fucking much. mav and bradley encouraging each other. mav and bradley saving each other’s lives and refusing to apologize for it or leave each other. mav and bradley repairing their relationship. Mav And Bradley.
Can someone explain please help me figure out the songs that play in top gun: maverick? I’m talking the ones beside the soundtrack.
So far, I have:
- “let’s dance” by David Bowie
- “won’t get fooled again” by the who
- “I ain’t worried” by one republic
- “hold my hand” by lady haha
- “danger zone” Kenny loggins
PLEASE TELL ME WHAT THE OTHER ONES ARE!
Especially the one where rooster (miles) walks into pennys bar. The melody of that song has been in my head for the past three days and I am BEGGING to know what it is.
Thank you babes
UPDATE: the song is “tramp” by Carla Thomas and Otis Redding. You guys are amazing!!! Thank you everyone who commented and shared me the link!
UPDATE UPDATE: I made a playlist on Apple Music called “Top Gun: Maverick” with a photo of the cast as the cover. and my pfp is a foggy, kind mountain photo. Give ‘er a listen and follow me on there too if ya want.
Summary: Bob and Phoenix are playing a friendly game of pool against Hangman and Coyote. Who will win?!
A/N: Okay, I absolutely love bob and phoenix’s dynamic. they are so good together and have a great relationship. I’d wanted to write a story with the two of them, so here it is! oh yeah, also i’ve seen the requests you guys are sending me, and im beginning to work on them. keep ‘em coming, I love writing requests! I hope you enjoy! xxx- Mac :)
“What,?” Phoenix asked, leaning laxly against the pool table, “Don’t tell me you’re afraid to loose?
Bob, her new weapon systems officer (WSO), looked put off by hangman and coyote, who were wearing nothing but smug grins with their uniforms and cocky attitudes. "Not afraid,” he said, “Just slightly discouraged.”
Natasha rolled her eyes, “If we play like we fly, then we have nothing to worry about.”
Bob nodded as he coated the end of his pool cue with a thin layer of blue chalk, and hoped the games he had played back in college would pay off in this particular situation.
“Okay Trace,” Hangman said, taking a step forward with his pool cue in-between his hands, “Are we ready to get this thing on the road? There’s a gorgeous blonde over there that’s calling my name.”
There was a woman, with honey blonde hair and wispy bangs, paying penny for a margarita at the bar, and yes, she was gorgeous. But everyone at the pool table, apart from hangman of course, doubted that she would want anything to do with him.
“The only person she’s going to be calling is penny, to throw you out of here when you make her uncomfortable,” phoenix said without batting an eye.
The corners of hangman’s lips turned up into a smug grin, “you wish you were that good, Tasha,” echoing that last part while meeting phoenix’s gaze.
The only people who could rightfully address her as 'Tasha’ were a) her parents, b) her elderly neighbour who always loved to heard her stories about the men she worked with on the base, and c) rooster, whenever he was feeling particularly cocky. The two of them had known each other for years, some might say that they were rather close. But at least whenever rooster called her, he did it when they both were two sloshed from a night of drinking to remember it the next day on base.
After working so hard to make a name for herself in the navy, lieutenant natasha “phoenix” trace, did not care to be called, tash, tasha, or any variation of Natalie, which yes, did happen more often than you would expect. She simply preferred Natasha, or phoenix, anything else, especially a name that was used to purposely aggravate her, she did not appreciate. And to retaliate back, she would used the same smart-mouthed techniques that her opponent had used.
Bob looked at phoenix with a condolent look, knowing damn well how much she hated that nickname, remembering the time she confided in him that school bullies used to call her that when she was a kid.
“Whatever,” she said, looking away, “are we going to play or what?”
Coyote, hangman’s designated teammate, who honestly didn’t appear too thrilled to be playing pool on his Friday night, checked the time on his watch, “better play now before the crowd sets in at 10.”
“Ladies first,” hangman said, in a tone that certainly was not implied as chivalrous.
“Thank you bagman,” phoenix replied with underlines of sarcasm, “I’ll make sure to thank you in my victory speech.”
Phoenix bent at the waist, and held her arms steadily on the pool table, the pool cue balancing between her fingers, one, two, three then the white cue ball went powering forward into the triangle of balls, sending them every which way, making that satisfying pop! striped number thirteen, a polished orange ball, was sent straight into one of the corner pockets on the opposite side of the table.
“Nice one,” bob said, giving his partner a pat on the shoulder, “that was a great shot!”
Natasha stood up and gave bob a quick smile, and hangman one that was cocky and indiscreetly read thanks, for underestimating me you big sleaze!
Coyote was supposed to hit next, he was all primed and ready on the table, pulling back his arm to take the shot, when hangman snuck up behind him and pulled the cue back, “Actually,” he had said, “I think I’ll take the second shot.”
Coyote rolled his eyes, “Whatever, man,” disgruntled and annoyed, stepped back.
Leaning on the table, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, made sure to flex his biceps and give phoenix a wink as he primed himself for the shot. In one swift motion, he pulled his arm back and fired the dinged up white ball into the solid navy one, sending it into the middle pocket. Not as completely satisfying as the first shot, but still veryskilled.
“Bob,” hangman said coyly to the wso, “the shots all yours. Now try not to miss.”
“Its like your trying to be funny,” Bob said, eyeing his shot, “but your just not?” This comment unintentionally made a snort escape from phoenix, who in the moment, was very proud of her wso, someone who was usually pretty reserved and quiet, talking back to hangman for a change.
Bob, who had been doubting himself at the beginning, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he eyed up the table, visually calculating which ball would have the best chance of making it into the net. After some contemplation, and trying out a plethora of positions, bob took a shot, using the rail to his advantage to push one of striped balls into the pocket. It rolled quickly, nocking one of the opposite teams away from the side lines, back into the centre, then eventually, the striped ball rolled right into the pocket.
Phoenix let out a cheer, “way to go bob!” and bob grinned, finally proving the others worthy of his place, not only at the pool table, but here, in the navy, where he had always belonged.
Lt. Robert, “Bob” Floyd, was certainly not as smart-mouthed as his co-workers tended to be. Bob tended to keep to himself on the base and he was perfectly content that way. He wasn’t as loud as the others, but he was a great guy to have as a friend. Bob, skilled and humble, would help you out in a bind, whether it be overdue paperwork, trying to meet someone at a bar, or simply just a game of beach-side football, bob would be there for anyone who allowed him to be.
“Okay,” Coyote said, lining up his shot on the table, “My turn.” The solid ball closest to falling into the pocket was guarded by the infamous 8-ball, the ultimate taboo of the pool table. You would have had to take a near perfect shot with the right angles and just a little bit of luck just not to knock it in. And Coyote, a confident and coy pilot (although much nicer and willing to work in a team setting than hangman) took the shot, sending the cue ball powering towards the 8-ball, and in his favour, his shot was just strong enough to collide the two balls, sending his desired one into the pocket, and the 8-ball balancing on the edge of the rim.
“Woah!” Bob said to coyote, “You’re goodgood!”
Coyote grinned, “thanks. my old man used to own a billiards room when I was a kid. I was practically raised there.”
Bob and phoenix exchanged a glance before phoenix went up to take her next shot. “That would have been nice to know before hand,” bob whispered to phoenix. Natasha nodded, “who knew he was that good?!”
The next round was more intense than the first had been. With both natasha and Jake missing their shots, likely due to the distraction of the music in the background, which suddenly seemed to have gotten turned up a whole lot more that it was when everyone first arrived.
Fate would only allow bob to secure his shot into one of the corner pockets. And for coyote, as expected, he got the shot he had meticulously charted out. His powerful cue sent not one, but two pool balls into separate pockets. He reallycould play!
As the game played on, the score remained tight, and the trash talking was intense. Each time Hangman missed a shot (two times to be precise), his attitude grew worse, but he was still convinced that he would be the saving grace for his team.
Bob and Phoenix had two pool balls left to hit into the pockets. on phoenix’s try, she had managed to line up one of the two balls so it could easily be knocked in when bob would go to play in the next round.
Hangman came close to getting a ball in, missing the precise shot by only a few millimetre. Coyote, who had caught the attention of a woman in the bar (no not the blonde, but instead a navy diver with her hair pulled back in braids) and he was quite eager to get the game finished with for obvious reasons. “This is my last shot,” he said, “me and meg wanna get out of here.”
Hangman’s normally sly grin ran from his face as a bee gees song began to play on the bar stereo, “Come on man!” he had said, “We’ve got a game to finish!”
Coyote took a shot, popping a ball easily into one of the nets, standing up, putting his pool cue back on the wall, “And ive got to get laid!”
Phoenix and bob exchanged a place, smirking to themselves, “I did not need to know that,” thought bob, but in courtesy of being a good friend he gave coyote the the thumbs up.
“What’s the matter Hangman?” phoenix asked coyly, “can’t play us on your own?”
Jake ran a hand through his sandy hair, and put himself back together, slowly building up that cocky grin he always seemed to be wearing. “No,” he said, “That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“Than what it is?” bob asked.
“Its just that you guys are going to be furious when I single handedly annihilate you.”
Phoenix tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear before she leaned in for a shot, sending one of the striped balls straight into the pocket. “You sure about that, hang-man?”phoenix asked him, singing his name in the way that annoyed him the most.
He rolled his eyes and lined up his shot. He drew his arm back and then powered it forward, knocking the ball straight ahead, into, but not accurately hitting the solid ball he was aiming for. “fuck,”he cursed under his breath. It could appear that hangman was more caught up in the act of putting on a show, showing his opponents that he could fire one off, then the actual accuracy of it all.
Once hangman moved aside, bob stepped up, and took his turn. His lips were pouted ever so slightly, a habit of his that phoenix had come to notice after meeting him weeks ago. Whenever bob was thinking about something particularly complicated, or when he was trying his best to focus, which in this case, he was.But his focus paid off, hitting one of the two remaining striped balls into a pocket.
Bob and phoenix rejoiced, they had nearly won the game, now only needing to hit one ball, plus the forbidden 8-ball into one of the six nets.
Hangman took his turn now that coyote was out of the bar, probably speeding home with his date in the passenger seat of his car telling her all the things that they would do together.
No surprise, the glowing pilot, hangman, hit the ball perfectly into the corner. “Beat that Tasha,” he said to phoenix.
Natasha rolled her eyes, brushing past the comment, and did her best to score, which unsurprisingly, she did. “Call me Tasha one more time,” phoenix said harshly, “and the only think you’ll be calling me is sir.” And then like the badass phoenix is,she made the perfect shot.
Hangman was unsure by what she meant, but he smirked anyways. According to hangman himself, one of his best traits is how wellthe ladies (and the occasional guy) seemed to betroth themselves to engaging in his game of banter. Now hangman didn’t really mean the stuff he said, he just liked the feeling of getting underneath someones skin. But at times, he was jealous of natasha, she was fabulous at what she did, and hangman couldn’t handle not being the best.
Bob cheered, “One more shot, then we’ve got it!”
Hangman rolled his eyes, and then sprawled his torso all over the table, making it the biggest show imaginable. He flexed his arms again, and gave the white cue ball the perfect smouldering glare. In order to win at this rate, hangman would need to somehow get both of his solid pool balls into the nets, but lucky for bob and phoenix, they were on opposite ends of the table. The yellow one went popping in and hangman held himself smugly because of it, that same cocky look in his eyes.
“Its all your bob,” Phoenix said, giving her wso an affirming nod.
The game was now in bob’s hands. It was up to him, if he made this shot, the game would be over and him and phoenix would be declared the winners. However, the shot was rather difficult. The magic 8-ball was resting centred in the middle of the table, resting in the middle of the us navy logo that was imprinted in the felt of the table, and the cue ball was off to the side on the far end of the table. The shot would be a miracle, but bob, and his experience from long ago, gave it 'the old college try’ and miraculously managed to pop the 8-ball into one of the pockets on the far side.
“We did it!” Phoenix cheered, bringing her wso into an embrace that could only be identified as a 'bro-hug.’ An embrace where slaps on the back were insisted. Bob grinned, high-fiving his pilot, “Take that hangman!”
Hangman shorted, putting his pool cue back into its holder on the wall, “Well, I’d like to say it was a good game, but I didn’t win, so, lets just call it an alrightgame.”
Phoenix nodded at that, and shook his hand, bob following suit.
“You guys make quite the team,” Jake said soundly.
Phoenix and bob exchanged a grin. “I suppose we do,” she replied, looking brightly to her wso.
They did make a fabulous team. Bob and Phoenix. Natasha and Robert. They both understood each-other beyond speaking terms, and could read one-another’s next move based on a shared glance. they really were a great team.
Another thing I don’t get is people saying Hangman is Ice and Rooster is Mav. It’s obviously the other way around.
Yes! Like iceman is called that bc he has to be perfect… no mistakes… Rooster is also careful, maybe not as cold and calculated but def more so than Mav and Hangman. Where as Hangman literally got his name bc he was known to leave his wingman, he’s a risk taker and flies with his instincts over logic… who does that sound like?
