With the summer’s heat doubling down in many places, Americans have been flocking to catch the season’s most popular films in movie theaters. One of the biggest blockbusters of the summer has been “Top Gun: Maverick” starring Tom Cruise and Miles Teller, a story about the Navy's most prestigious aviators that showcases camaraderie, courage, and resilience.
An argument could be made that the reason for its popularity stems from the talent of the actors or its action-packed storyline. However, the film’s real appeal comes from its inspiring story of seemingly normal people doing extraordinary things.
Politico puts it best: “No one would mistake ‘Top Gun: Maverick’ for social realism, or even (maybe especially) a lifelike depiction of Naval air combat. But rather than the hyper-masculine, Reagan-era militarism of Tony Scott’s 1986 original, this film’s appeal comes from the mere fact that it’s about normal people, doing things within the plausible boundaries of reality.”
On top of this, “Top Gun: Maverick” instills a strong sense of patriotism in its viewers. It depicts the elite nature of the U.S. military and highlights the commitment the aviators make to defend the United States country during times of turmoil. It is overall a feel-good movie that makes people proud of the American lifestyle and culture.
So we asked our readers: What movie represents the best of American culture? What are the blockbuster movies that define who we are? And has it held up until today?
American culture can be defined by many different things and it can be shown in film in many different ways. As one reader put it, these stories “speak to the experiences of members of the United States that are Americans [although] their experiences are not part of the dominant culture.”
Still, diverse stories that often focused on people who are underdogs, whether the movies are based on real life or fictional, were the most common replies. Think “12 Years A Slave,” “Hidden Figures,” and “The Florida Project.”
Following is a selection of reader responses, edited for length and clarity.
I think I would need the help of my wife or one of my sisters, both of whom have better memories of movie titles and their plots. However, off the cuff, I would start thinking about movies that depict large families gathering (e.g., large wedding weekend) in loving chaos of personalities achieving some expected and unexpected results, where at least a glimmer or a rush of love and insights appear, even if not at the ending of the movie. This might seem like more of a universal cultural experience and I think our large national family has many cultures from all around the world coming together at times in challenging ways that can lead to growth and happier endings. - Joe Healy
As it is now vorboten to be patriotic and patriotism is looked upon as a punishable offense; I cannot see how any writer will ever be allowed to show America as a great country. Division is accepted and demanded and shown by the separate award ceremonies that the pariah class (Americans) are not able to attend or receive awards. If this is the "new Diversity" it makes no sense. - Gloria Graham
Honestly, the single best film that helps move our story forward is "Get Out" by Jordan Peele. The opening scene, a take-off on how white people are supposed to feel scared in Black neighborhoods, flipping it so a Black guy is kidnapped in a white suburban street, simply does more to lay things out about our common humanity, and how our fears keep us from accessing it, than any amount of blockbusters. The ending of that film predicts a better future, a society more open to seeing truths laid out in front of it and the possibility of justice. Also there's a great dog. An incredible film. - Tod Davies
Either way, for most people, fiction films serve as a distraction from reality — a sort of escape from the mundane into a world where hours or even generations are collapsed into about two hours, inconvenient emotion inducing events are mostly resolved favorably, and once the credits roll, everything goes back to normal.
Given that perspective, I would say that — to a large degree — the effect that film has on American culture is in the mind of the beholder. The fact is that there can be more activity in a single action film than most humans will experience in an entire lifetime. Therefore, there is a potency to this medium that should not be ignored. - Pedro Silva
For me, two relatively recent movies captured contemporary American life. One is “Moonlight,” directed by Barry Jenkins and written by Tarell Alvin McCraney, a film about the fractured life of a queer Black man. The other is “The Florida Project,” directed by Sean Baker and co-written by Baker and Chris Bergoch, about a little girl and her struggling mother who live week-to-week in a motel near Disney World. Each film dramatizes the interlocking challenges and moral compromises required to live on the edges of American society — where so many Americans live — as well as the love and joy that exist there in equal measure, almost in retaliation against the systems that created the conditions of their struggle. The humanity of these films is aspirational, even countercultural. Not the plot arcs and tragedies, which are grounded in hard realities, but the portrayals of these people as people, their wholeness, their complexities. The love that radiates from the gaze of the camera. Could our country ever love them as completely or as deeply as these films do? - Daniel Pritchard
A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
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Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.