For reasons with which you needn’t concern yourself, I’ve been finding myself thinking about Tom Cruise sex scenes a fair amount. I feel that he has been party to a great many scenes that are completely implausible for a variety of logistical, psychological, and ergonomic reasons. While one film gets it right, most sex scenes prohibit me from suspending disbelief, often compelling me to scream, “THAT’S NOT HOW TOM CRUISE WOULD MAKE LOVE!”
Weigh the following exhibits. I dare you to disagree.
In this scene, Tom Cruise comes over to his flight instructor’s house after a spirited game of all-male beach volleyball. But when he arrives for their first actual date, he walks through the door, telling her he has to shower. It’s hard to come across as more socially inept. I don’t care how good of a renegade pilot you are.
The next time you’re on a first date at a girl’s house, show up sweaty (without a change of clothes) and inform her that you have to use her shower. See if you end up making passionate, soft-light love to Berlin’s “Take My Breath Away.” If you do, you must be one hell of a pilot.
In the beginning of this film, we see Top Gun holding Kelly Preston (John Travolta’s wife; draw your own conclusion) around his waist while she jumps on it and rides his pony. I don’t know if this is logistically impossible, but it’s certainly logistically unlikely. Cruise is 5’7”, so his center of gravity is low enough that he could hold up Kelly Preston without tumbling forward, but I’m skeptical that Cruise has the leg strength. Granted, bookshelves are involved, but I still don’t see it happening.
Also, it’s unrealistic that any human being would allow Kelly Preston to scream in his face for that long during sex without asking her to please be quiet.
[Not embeddable, but right here]
Have you ever been on the Chicago train lines? There are stops every three feet! There’s no way that you could have sober sex on that thing without constantly being interrupted with stops, “Approaching Clark/Lake” announcements, and an influx of commuters dressed like 1980’s breakdancers.
Joel is by all accounts a virgin at this point, so perhaps they only needed a stop or two, but still, the likelihood of finding an unoccupied car is next to zero.