I spent a lot of Top Gun: Maverick studying Tom Cruise’s face. It’s a deceptively interesting one – either eerily smooth or comfortingly weathered, depending on the scene; a fitting testament to a man whose intergalactic fame has outlasted seven US presidents and hundreds, if not thousands, of fly-by-night movie stars. Amid the whooshing racket of torpedoes and jet engines, it’s Cruise who emerges as the film’s most compelling special effect. Few other celebrities feel as curiously enigmatic as they are culturally ubiquitous. You can’t quite believe he’s real. He still might not be.
Cruise is up for an Oscar this weekend as a producer on Maverick, meaning he’ll take one home if the film wins Best Picture. He didn’t get the Best Actor nod that at one point seemed predestined, but oddly, Best Picture feels like an appropriate – even preferable – alternative. For Maverick is Cruise. Cruise is Maverick. Playing a confident but battle-weary naval captain and test pilot, he takes full command of every scene and every stunt. Never have a star and their movie felt quite so one-and-the-same.
