It’s Time to Let Go
Why the real battles in ‘Top Gun’ are between Maverick and his past
On the face of it, Top Gun is a stereotypical propaganda film for the United States Navy. Pilots fly fast planes with great skill and defeat unnamed enemies; strut about in leather jackets or are half-clad around their locker rooms; play volleyball on the beach, drive fast bikes across a California town, and earn the adulation of the global media for their actions.
In line with this reading of the movie, there are good guys and bad guys. Tom Cruise’s Pete “Maverick” Mitchell is clearly the protagonist, and the movie sets up two major rivals he is in conflict with — the first is Val Kilmer’s Tom “Iceman” Kazansky, his rival to be the “best of the best” at the Top Gun academy. The other (more clear) enemies are the MiG pilots from unnamed enemy nations who fly against Mitchell and the other US pilots.
However, I believe that the movie is much more than this. Central to the movie is a battle between Maverick and his feelings about the past. Maverick is battling many emotions, including grief, a sense of guilt, and a distrust of everyone around due to events from the past — all of which are the key enemies he has to win over, rather than rival or enemy pilots.
The Danger Zone
Amidst all the choreographed action sequences and the nominal romantic thread in the movie, it’s easy to forget that the entire movie is bookended by two panic attacks — pilots in high-intensity situations snap under immense stress and anxiety, needing help from voices and pilots around them and from the past. It is also easy to forget that in a soundtrack peppered with several hits, the song that plays most often is the melancholic Memories, which repeats several times, getting more and more prominent as the movie goes along and Maverick has to face his demons.
Maverick’s emotional state is signposted throughout the movie — his best friend and RIO Goose shares that he is scared of Maverick’s flying because it feels like he is always, “Flying against a ghost.” His instructor shares a similar sentiment, and people often allude to Maverick’s father’s mysterious death and flying prowess both, suggesting some of it has rubbed off on Maverick too.
Maverick clearly is dealing with the grief of his father’s untimely and mysterious death — psychologists who have watched the movie have diagnosed him with symptoms of PTSD and suffocated grief. However, he deals with it by hiding it through actions that make him, in Top Gun instructor Charlie Blackwood’s words, “Seem larger than life.” He takes excessive risks and makes questionable decisions while flying, resulting in several dressing downs from his instructors, despite the moves regularly working out — furthering his sense of injustice. He also displays a blatant disregard of authority by disobeying their orders, carrying out attention-grabbing stunts, and making quips when pulled up by his superiors. This facade is not uncommon among those coping with grief, as they aim to cover up their sorrows through lavish actions that seek to draw attention elsewhere.
Maverick also displays an unhealthy level of competition, sometimes seeming like he is competing not just with the others around him, but with an imagined reality. This is again not an uncommon symptom for those dealing with grief — it’s a way of proving one’s capabilities to the rest of the world and fighting back against an unjust universe, and also a side-effect of the excessive risk taking that comes with the feeling that one does not have much to lose.
Finally, Maverick mostly hides his emotions (again, very common behaviour for those trying to repress grief and trauma), with a few surprising moments of vulnerability. The first of these is when he is confronted by Goose for his recklessness — normally, Maverick fights back at such allegations, but with Goose he truly appears shaken and promises not to let his “only family” down. The second is when he’s at Charlie’s house, and Otis Redding’s Sitting on the Dock of the Bay plays — in a rare moment, Maverick sheds his larger-than-life persona and talks about his family with a wistful longing in his voice.
Talk to me, Maverick
All these matters come to a head midway through the movie, when Maverick has to also deal with a sense of guilt for a flying incident. Although he is cleared of responsibility, it shocks Maverick and adds an additional element to the cocktail of grief, trauma, and guilt rattling around his mind.
Maverick immediately responds to this in two ways that further demonstrate the typical-repressed-grief-responses he has been exemplifying. First, he cuts ties with those he might end up leaning on for support, such as his fellow candidates and instructors at the Top Gun academy — a typical flight response to avoid a sense of being dependent on others. Second, he tries to suppress his grief, and returns to active flying almost immediately. It does not help that most people around him, including his romantic interest and his father’s friend both trivialize the loss and suggest he soldier on, forcing him to repress the grief further.
The key turning point for Maverick is when he realizes he should not be fighting with or competing against the past, but instead accepting it as a part of him and getting in touch with his feelings — a vital learning that would stand many in good stead even today. In the climactic scene, he can be seen clutching an object from the past that he uses to reach back into the past as a source of strength, rather than an enemy to be defeated. This renewed approach appears to allow Maverick to recognize his feelings and process them, allowing him to function both in his personal and professional life again. The message is clear — getting in touch with, and processing feelings related to, grief and trauma (ideally with professional help, but hey, this was set in the 1980s!) is vital; no amount of repression, unhealthy competition, or posturing can replace this.
This rejuvenation is exemplified again in the final scene. When he hears a song that should trigger memories of the past, Maverick no longer avoids it, instead walking towards the source and trying to identify who played the song. Once more, he is accepting the past as a part of his identity — and in his own words, even if he crashed and burnt the first time, this time things were looking good.
