Beneath the shiny helmet and perfect flight, “Top Guns: The Next Generation” hides a story about people, not myths. British filmmaker Lana Salah’s National Geographic documentary series turns the adrenaline rush of military aviation into a meditation on limits, discipline and the fragility behind performance. Beyond the spectacle of the sky, there remains the silence of a generation learning what courage really means.
The courage to be a pilot. PHOTO: National Geographic
The sky has always been one of cinema’s favorite illusions—boundless, noisy, and laden with dreams (and dreams) of control. “Top Guns: The Next Generation,” the six-part documentary series that can be seen on National Geographic every Thursday at 9 p.m., begins in the same glitzy airspace, but anchors in much more intimate territory: the limits of human endurance. Here, the pilots are not just performers of a Hollywood choreography, but are real students, young officers of the US Naval Forces, undergoing the toughest flight training in the world.
This new series follows a group of young aspirants who go through the last and toughest stage of training before receiving the “Wings of Gold”, the ultimate symbol of American military aviation. For six months, these students live on the edge, going through extreme tests of physical endurance, technical precision and mental strength. In the end, only the best will earn the honor of flying the latest generation F-35C Lightning II aircraft.
US military aircraft. PHOTO: National Geographic
However, beyond the adrenaline, there is a surprising stillness, which the director of the series, Lana Salah, captures with empathy and precision. Asked what was the thematic thread that guided his story, Salah hesitated for a moment and then pointed out in the interview for “Weekend Adevărul”: “All the pilots are the top 1% in their country. So they’re already incredible people before they even get there. I think the red thread is excellence and the pursuit of excellence. I also think anyone, regardless of social background, place of origin or gender, can reach that level. I was impressed by the variety – there wasn’t one type of person, there wasn’t one type of personality or background there. And, I think, that’s what we humans are capable of doing. It is fascinating and moving to see how they are pushed to the limit in so many ways and tested, and still manage to pull through. I think they’re inspirational people… Some series have a clear theme, like courage, but I haven’t made every episode around a theme. I think overall that was the message for me or what I hope the audience will take away.”
At the hands of luck
Lana Salah’s direction refuses the easy seduction of cars. Her lens follows people who happen to fly planes, not cars that happen to carry people. The footage unfolds over six months of training – aircraft carriers, dogfights, silent nights in cramped bedrooms – but the focus remains on the faces under the helmets. The production, Salah admits, was shaped in equal measure by luck and intent. “Part of everything that happened was luck”she confesses with a smile. “We shot for a long time and it all depended on which planes had working cameras and what stories we could get. Sometimes the cameras overheated and wouldn’t work. Sometimes the plane broke down, so the pilots had to switch to another plane that didn’t have a camera. So really it all came down to that – we had already selected a group of people to follow, all of them – but it was kind of a matter of luck.”. We can say that luck becomes part of the texture of the documentary. It mirrors the unpredictability of flight itself, which everyone who has ever flown knows: a technical malfunction, a sudden storm, a missed tether on the deck of an aircraft carrier. Salah does not hide these imperfections; let them breathe.
View from the cockpit
Visually, “Top Guns: The Next Generation” walks the line between concrete and aesthetic. The aerial scenes are dizzyingly beautiful – planes drawing geometry over the Pacific, but those on the ground are shot tenderly, almost coyly. “I thought a lot about this aspect”points out the director. “We wanted the footage on the ground, with the documentary feel, to still look cinematic, but we had to be practical. We had to be able to shoot very quickly, nimbly, but also with a small crew that the pilots knew and trusted. So, in a way, we disappeared. We got that dark, direct observation feel, but we wanted it to be epic and cinematic at the same time. We slowly, patiently built, a set of tools: stylized frames and cinematic aerial scenes. That was always the intention. I think it turned out exactly as I planned”.
The cockpit footage, perhaps the most technically challenging part, was done in close collaboration with the US Navy. “That really depended on the Navy”she says. “To install the cameras in the cockpit, they were fixed there. We spent months and invested a lot of money working with the Navy to build something that they tested and were absolutely sure was safe. The cameras didn’t block the pilots’ view and were completely safe. They were just GoPros, but honestly, they look amazing.”. The result is extraordinary: a perspective from inside the storm, where the light plays on the visors and the sweat turns into reflection.
Young American pilots. PHOTO: National Geographic
What distinguishes Lana Salah’s work from other aviation documentaries is her respect for silence. She doesn’t force the emotion. “We always put their safety and well-being first. If they were having a rough or stressful day and didn’t want to be filmed, we respected that. Like any documentary, it’s all about time and trust. National Geographic gave us the time to build relationships. We learned how not to be a distraction. When they were mentally preparing to get on the plane, we never had to ask them questions, only after they landed. It was about that respectful balance”. This confidence gives the film its moral gravity. It’s easy to turn the pilots into symbols, but it’s much harder to let them remain human – the director’s patience, her willingness to wait for the moments, not to force them, anchors the film in reality.
Echoes of a myth
Asked how he approached the series in the cultural shadow of “Top Gun,” Salah didn’t shy away from the comparison. “These pilots are still in training, so they haven’t reached the point where they are dealing with real life and death situations. But they are preparing for it, as are their families. In a way, the presence of that reality always hovers. I think the documentary gives you a chance to walk in their shoes more than a movie, which remains essentially a form of entertainment. In the post-Top Gun culture, people already come with the impression that they know this world. Movies are true in many ways, but they compress time. We played with it a bit – there are funny moments, allusions to volleyball or other pastiches. We talked to the students about what they think about «Top Gun». It’s a fun likeness, but our job was to show the real texture underneath.”
Above the air. PHOTO: National Geographic
“I believe that anyone is capable of greatness” is the conclusion Lana Salah wants viewers of the series to draw. It’s an answer that may seem too optimistic, maybe even naive, but after watching the series, it rings true. Greatness, in Lana Salah’s view, is not about speed or dominance. It’s about resilience. About the quiet, trembling courage to get back on the plane after failure and try again.
In its pace and restraint, “Top Guns: The Next Generation” seems the antithesis of its cinematic predecessors. If Hollywood movies thrived on bravado, this series thrives on confidence. It shows us the cost of perfection, but also the grace that sometimes follows it. For a culture saturated with spectacle, it’s a reminder that true courage is rarely loud. It vibrates under the roar of engines, in the pulse of a pilot who whispers to himself before take-off, in the gaze of a director who chose to listen instead of shouting. Lana Salah’s room offers us a simple truth: the sky, in all its majesty, is never empty.
