There are plenty of critiques of Top Gun, Top Gun Maverick, and of course; Tom Cruise out there. My intention here is not to critique any of the above, but to draw some attention to some themes in the movie that I found to be powerful nods to survivor’s guilt. For starters, my kids wanted to see the film, but I wouldn’t permit them to see it until they saw the first one (yeah, I fast forwarded through a few scenes, and discouraged them from ever “flipping the bird”). It was imperative for them to understand the relationship between Maverick and Goose, particularly Goose’s family. Having grown up on the film -as a child of the 80’s- it was the initial inspirational nudge that planted the seed of military service. The earlier film seemed to lack a bit of emotional authenticity in my eyes, but in the later film; Top Gun Maverick, it picked up the theme as a literary device. Captain Mitchell, although years removed from the incident, still carries the guilt of LT Bradshaw’s (Goose) death. During both films it is reiterated time and again, that the death of his friend is in no way his responsibility. All logic and reason proves this to be a fact, yet it is a fact that Mitchell cannot accept for himself, even if he knows it to be true.
So herein lies the tragedy of survivor’s guilt. Many of the Marines I served with in 2005 still harbor a range of combat related challenges; post traumatic stress, moral injury, and survivors guilt. To explore those other issues would take more time than I would like to hash out here, but they are all very unique, and have a tendency to bleed into one another. The consistent theme for those of us who carry the guilt of our survival, is often tied to the missed opportunity to have taken the slightest detour from our actions on that particular day. Without going into details, I am one of those. I have carried the guilt of the death of one particular Marine with me since 2005. I confessed where I had gone wrong up and down the chain of command, to which I was always told that I could not logically draw a direct conclusion that I carried the sole responsibility for his death. Regardless, I still carry it today, and I am fairly certain I will carry it with me to my grave. That sense of guilt has fueled many of the paths I have taken in my life. I left the Marine Corps, and another vocation as a police officer to pursue ministry, which in turn led me to the United States Navy Chaplain Corps. This call and vocation was strikingly odd to many of my fellow Marines, not to mention police I served alongside. I wasn’t their stereotypical “holy roller,” although my faith life was always a big part of who I was.
Ever since coming back to the military, I have often publicly declared an additional vow taken on, one outside of the oath we take, and the vows of my ordination. I vowed to God and myself when I came back to the military, that I would care for every single Sailor and Marine in my care, to the very best of my ability. I vowed I would care for them the way I would want my own children cared for, if they ever put on this uniform. I have been told this is an issue of maintaining personal boundaries, and that it is unhealthy to bring such things home. I have also been told that it is unsustainable, yet I have continued to pursue my call in this manner, because my personal convictions will not allow me to function in any other way.
So, this leads us back to the film, and three particularly powerful scenes for me. They are also scenes that I think others may relate to, and for others still who have loved ones who’ve suffered the same, it may shed some light. After Maverick’s credit card is declined, he is humiliatingly thrown out of the bar. Yet, as he picks himself up from the sand and begins to walk away -laughing off his shame- he hears the familiar rendition of “Great Balls of Fire” being played by his old friend’s son; the new LT Bradshaw “Rooster.” I cannot watch the scene without the painful lump in my throat rising up. Whether it is a song, a sound, a sight, or a voice, these are things that impact many of us. Whether you like Tom Cruise or not, his gaze in this scene -along with his expulsion from the bar and the gathering of pilots- captures the reality for so many. There are few moments more isolating than the feeling that no one else can even begin to comprehend the immense tension between being drawn to that pain, yet simultaneously wanting to run from it. In the moment I saw that scene, I saw myself in a grocery store on many occasions, caught off guard by a song, or someone who looks eerily similar to one of our fallen. There are few moments as lonely as that.
“It’s the only look I’ve got.” -Maverick
There is a flip side to all this, however. Cruise, and the writers also captured that moment as well, whether intentional or not. They capture the vow that I spoke of, because throughout the film, Maverick demands that the command look at the young pilots as more than cannon fodder, he demands they be valued as he sees them; someone’s children, just as he cannot see Rooster in any other way. When he sees Rooster, he still sees the little boy sitting on top of the piano as his father and Maverick jovially sang and played.
On my first deployment as a Chaplain, I reassured my wife that there was nothing to worry about, after all, “I’m just a Chaplain.” I will never make that mistake again. The night before I left, I took my family to the beach for one last night together. I remember saying my goodbyes, and I remember telling my children I would care for my service members the way I would want them cared for. Most of all, I remember the support of my wife.
After Maverick is named team leader of the movies climactic mission, a role he was never intended to take on, he goes to the same bar he was kicked out of, to say goodbye to his new love interest; Penny Benjamin. Now, let me be clear, I hate the Navy whites (both summer whites and the chokers) because I find them to be the most impractical uniforms imaginable, but this scene captures a distinct moment. My Penny Benjamin, who is not only gracious enough to be my wife, but one of my biggest motivators, always reminds me to never lose sight of why I do what I do. While on my last deployment, something terrible happened, and it was my sincere fear when I called my wife that she would demand I leave that location immediately. There were ways I could leave, and although I didn’t want to, I also couldn’t lie to my wife. After confessing I was in the location she had seen in the news, she asked if I was going to stay. Upon giving my answer, I feared her retort, yet with tears in her voice she reassured me “I knew you would. That is why you are there. It is why God has put you where you are, so take care of them.”
Upon leaving Penny on the beach with a long embrace, the music carries over into the next scene as a carrier slices through waves. Maverick stands below deck, looking out across the ocean, asking for Goose to find a way to guide him; “Talk to me Goose.” This scene is the nail in my coffin, because it speaks to where I find myself in this call. I am a pastor, with extensive education and experience, put in a role to lead and care for Sailors and Marines because of that “expertise,” yet this scene encapsulates my own dependence on so many others. Rear Admiral Solomon “Warlock” Bates, is a character that I believe tragically escapes the attention of most movie goers. He doesn’t have many lines, but in this scene Warlock seems to speak for Goose, as he calls to Maverick from outside of view. “Captain Mitchell” he exclaims, as Maverick turns around and the two stand face to face. “This is where you belong” Warlock confidently assures Maverick. Not instructing pilots on North Island off the coast of Southern California, or holed up in a hangar in the Mojave desert.
I am blessed to have had so many amazing “Warlocks” in my still short career as a Chaplain. My previous Command Master Chief, my senior mentor, my junior mentor, numerous colleagues, friends, and service members I have served beside. In this scene I have seen them all, not suggesting, but reminding me of my vow, my conviction. I long for another deployment, because that is where I belong. I don’t long to be away from my wife and children, but I am convicted to care for those who stand on that line because of what they have shown me, in their love and support.
What I have concluded from all the reflections in this movie, is that survivors guilt does not have to be an impediment, but a reminder of the gift of this life, and the responsibility we have to use it as the gift it is. Not a day goes by I don’t wrestle with the guilt of those deaths, but not a day goes by that it doesn’t remind me of why I am here, and that fact that this is “Where you belong.”
I’ve never done this before, but I would like to dedicate this entire rant to my mentors, my all time CMC (you’ll always be MY CMC), and my wife. You are the ones who’ve always pushed me to follow the courage of my convictions, and you’ve pushed harder than ever these past few months. You’re all the voices that I hear when I lift up my eyes to the heavens and proclaim “Talk to me, Goose.”
Disclaimer: My thoughts are my own and do not represent the Department of Defense, US Navy, USMC, or the Navy Chaplain Corps.
References
Kosinski, Joseph. 2020. Top Gun: Maverick. United States: Paramount Pictures.
