Why did the ‘Top Gun: Maverick’ formula not work as well for ‘F1’?
As the credits rolled on Joseph Kosinski’s F1, and the teeth-clenching tones of Ed Sheeran’s ‘Drive’ began blaring, I sat in the cinema for a few moments to collect my thoughts. Did I like the big-budget Formula One movie starring Brad Pitt as the world’s sexiest 60-year-old driver battling it out with his personal demons and a cocky young upstart half his age? Yes. Did I love it? No. Was it, in many ways, a poor man’s Top Gun: Maverick? Regrettably, yes.
In truth, the DNA the movie shares with Tom Cruise’s unexpectedly fantastic Top Gun sequel was there for everyone to see right from the beginning. Both movies were directed by Kosinski, written by Ehren Kruger, scored by Hans Zimmer, and produced by famed action movie maestro Jerry Bruckheimer. Both films featured Kosinski and his team coming up with new, mind-bogglingly creative ways to get new camera systems inside their vehicles, so that audiences could experience the breakneck speed of fighter jets and Formula One cars in as up-close-and-personal a way as possible.
Similarly, to safely inject as much reality as they could, both movies put their actors through extensive training periods to withstand the G-force inside these contraptions. This meant that in Maverick, Cruise, Miles Teller, Monica Barbaro, Lewis Pullman and company were really in the jets, soaring through the sky at stomach-twisting speeds, and in F1, Pitt and co-star Damson Idris, from FX’s Snowfall, really learned to drive Formula One cars at upwards of 200 miles per hour.
It’s only when watching the movie, though, that you truly understand how closely Kosinski, Kruger, and Bruckheimer followed the blueprint they set out so successfully in 2022’s Maverick. In fact, it sometimes feels like you could lay the F1 script over the top of the Maverick script, and they’d line up almost perfectly.
Both movies are about a seemingly over-the-hill guy who used to be great at something, but never quite achieved superstar status thanks to his self-destructive personality and addiction to the thrill of speed. Both movies follow that ageing guy, who is still sexy enough that much younger women regularly make googly eyes at him, as he seeks redemption through mastering his craft again.
Both movies pair the older star with a younger man who is initially antagonistic, but later recognises that sometimes the old ways are best, and grudging respect turns into outright friendship by the end. Both movies feature a romance between the ageing lothario and a younger woman that is playfully hostile at the start, but blossoms into something genuine over time.
Now, it must be said that neither Maverick nor F1 are built on scripts anyone would credit with being overly original; they are largely effective examples of Hollywood blockbuster writing. In essence, this stuff has worked for decades, so why muck around with the formula? The problem with Maverick’s formula being applied so comprehensively to F1, though, is that it doesn’t have the same intangibles Cruise’s belated sequel enjoyed.
For starters, it must be said that Maverick enjoyed the benefit of being a sequel to one of Cruise’s most beloved films. Top Gun is a truly iconic example of Hollywood moviemaking in the 1980s, after all. When people who loved that ’86 Tony Scott classic saw Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell and Val Kilmer’s ‘Iceman’ again, they were hit with pangs of nostalgia so hard that their hearts probably felt like they wanted to burst out of their chests.
However, if the only people who loved Maverick had been old dudes who loved Top Gun back in the day, there’s no way it would have become a phenomenon that made nearly $1.5billion at the worldwide box office. That number, along with glowing reviews across the board, indicated that people who weren’t even around when the first Top Gun came out were watching and loving the follow-up.
Why were these people so enamoured with Maverick? Well, because of Cruise, of course. The man might be a lunatic in real life, but he’s also ten tons of old-school movie star crammed into a five-foot-six frame with a shit-eating grin on his face. Cruise has been dubbed the “last movie star” so many times in the last decade that it’s become fact, and his star power, charisma, and insane dedication are a huge part of why the film was such a soul-stirring watch.
Unfortunately for F1, the biggest difference between it and Maverick is that it has Pitt at its centre. He is in full Robert Redford mode here, with the camera lovingly bathing him in light at all times, and as the taciturn Sonny Hayes, he relies heavily on the movie star presence he’s developed over the years.
However, the problem, as I see it, is that Hayes is fundamentally a less likeable guy than Pete Mitchell, and Pitt has never been quite as comfortable with his “movie star” roles as Cruise. Think about it: all Pitt’s best movies are the ones where he can be a really, really good-looking character actor, as opposed to the likes of Troy, Mr & Mrs Smith, World War Z, or Legends of the Fall, where he is positioned as “the” guy.
By contrast, he is great in films like Se7en, Fight Club, and The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, but in something like F1, he looks a little bored when he’s not behind the wheel. It’s just not his natural wheelhouse, unlike Cruise, who never ever looks bored and always embraces movie stardom in all its glory.
Ultimately, without Cruise, Kosinski’s attempt to make Top Gun for race cars feels visually spectacular, but a little hollow at its core. This is perhaps best represented by the romance between Pitt and Kerry Condon’s technical director Kate McKenna, which feels like Hollywood bullshit from the first minute they set eyes on each other. It’s in stark contrast to Cruise’s romance with Jennifer Connelly’s Penny in Maverick, which, against all the odds, felt lived-in, nuanced, and slightly melancholy.
Perhaps, if Kosinski wants to repeat the Maverick formula for a third time, he will need to understand that he can’t skip over emotional depth in favour of formula (one). Also, he needs a star ready and willing to give a shit about the scenes where he’s not hurtling around racetracks.
