WHEN: 2:49pm EST, July 27th, 2012

WHERE: My apartment in Portland, ME (Isla Nublar)

FORMAT: Blu-Ray on a Vizio 32″ LED HDTV

COMPANY: Becca, who’s seen this movie about a dozen times in her life, and is beginning this viewing reading Fables and playing the role of “disinterested moral support.”

PHYSICAL AND MENTAL STATE: Just had sex, not too happy about the next two hours of my life, frantic to fit Top Gun into my recently hectic life (shift change; overtime; unexpected operatically soapy personal life)


  • I asked Becca if she was going to read or pay attention. She put the book down immediately and snuggled up like an adorable lady.
  • Watching a few more episodes of Carrier this week made me hate all the filters on this movie. Planes already look cool, guys.

Is it just me, or does this one patch of forest seem more jingoistic and homoerotic?

  • Oh, I just remembered… I learned from Carrier this week that there’s no such thing as running out of fuel as long as the ship is within sight. (They’ll deploy a refueling plane and gas you up midair.) So that list of stakes I made in a previous viewing? You can remove “running out of gas” from the first scene.
  • Becca’s pretty sure you can’t just up and quit the military. Aren’t you under contract? I dunno.
  • Becca is IMDbing Picket Fences and Walker, Texas Ranger because of Tom Skerritt and Clarence Gilyard Jr.
  • The ladies room seems like it was filmed in a different building from the bar. Becca thinks it looks like a middle school.
  • still laugh at Goose’s face while Mav is talking about the MiG. I think I forget exactly at which points they cut back to the two-shot and Goose’s goofy-ass grin always catches me off guard.
  • I realized I’ve never checked the wall with the planes painted on it (do any of you know what the hell I’m talking about at this point?) for the names “Metcalf” or “Heatherly.” You’d think Viper and Jester are on there. Or is that wall for… dead pilots?
  • “Peener poke. Right there.” Thanks, Becca. I did manage to miss Hollywood’s dong thwapping against his towel 29 times this year. Now I never will.

  • Becca laughed way too hard at “I want some butts!” even though she knew it was coming. “Okay, that’s still funny.”
  • I’m so deadened to how stupid this movie is. Becca is making WTF faces at everything, and all I can respond with is cold, empty silence.
  • I suddenly got pissed at how this movie doesn’t explore the forbidden relationship angle in the slightest. I want to marathon some movies that do.
  • I misremembered the cost of the planes. It’s $30 million, not $60 million. See my Week #30 Notes.
  • While Maverick was gathering up Goose’s things, I suddenly remembered that my cat died during my viewing last week. Is this a permanent flashbulb memory now? I hope not.
  • I’m actually feeling the death of my cat more this time than last time. I think I pushed the grieving aside to focus on the task at hand, and now it’s catching up with me. When Meg Ryan cried this time, I felt sick to my stomach and almost shed a tear. (Noteworthy: I did have Chipotle earlier.) I don’t usually care about pets this much, either. To me, pets are just animals you don’t eat because Mom said you can’t. What’s happening to my emotions?

I’m having a Seinfeldian salty discharge moment.

  • I’m wondering what’s in the little backpacks on the pilots. Water? Oxygen? Just extra padding?
  • My pal Amanda started texting me about hanging out at the mall during the final conflict. Sounds preferable.
  • Maj. Ray “Secks” Seckinger is in the credits. I need to find out if he’s the pilot on Carrier whose call sign is “Sex.” Or “Secks”?


Exhibit A: The guy from Carrier spells it “S-E-X.”

Exhibit B: His last name is Fravor.

 Exhibit C: Phil Collins and Bill Pullman would never name their child “Ray.”

Final assessment: not the same guy. Also, do not start Googling call signs. You will find way too many message boards full of pilots telling a dumb story about how the name Fribblehat came about because of the time they sharted during a drill and, three Cockney rhymes and seven misspellings later, country music exclamation points.

Not too many. Eh.

It was interesting to note that seeing a movie several times over the course of your life doesn’t necessarily make you totally bored with it, but doing it on a weekly basis might. Becca has seen Top Gun many times, but she still was surprised by it this time around. I was only surprised by Anthony Edwards mugging like a piñata made of teeth and mustache hairs.

Becca’s final assessment was that Top Gun is not a movie you plan to watch. It’s a movie you catch on TV and say, “Oh, shit, this will pass the time until my endoscopy.”

Have you seen TV these days? Sometimes the only winning move is Tom Cruise. Yeah, that bad.

I’ll call it: I’m downgrading it from Bro Party Movie Night. I don’t want to watch blue vanilla sex and forty minutes of bumper sticker dialogue with my friends. It’s not even bad enough to make fun of. (Rifftrax did it, but they are professionals.) I think there are a good twenty minutes of this-can’t-be-in-a-movie-that-made-money moments and they’re all held together with sweat, tears, clouds, and American Yoda slogans.

I’m sorry, friends. Inviting any of you over for Top Gun was foolish. Much like its own screenplay, you can’t plan for Top Gun. You just sort of let it happen.