Top Gun, what is it that springs to mind? Perhaps it's those thrilling aerial dogfights. Maybe it's the costumes, which convinced a million misguided men that they too would look great in aviators and leather bomber jackets.It could be Kenny Loggins's mournful, near-incessant saxophone wails, or the gossamer-thin plot.
It might be the fact that Tom Cruise, in the role that boosted him to the big boys' table of action stars, clearly needed either stacked Cuban heels, a motorbike or to be lying flat in order to be anywhere near the appropriate height to kiss Kelly McGillis.
Or maybe it's just the sheer homoerotic splendour of it all.For me it's the sweat. No film will ever be sweatier than Top Gun.
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