Val Kilmer Brought a Wonderfully Weird Sensibility to Every Role

Val Kilmer’s presence in “Top Gun: Maverick” (2022) is felt long before he physically appears on screen. The film subtly reintroduces his character, Iceman, through a text conversation with Tom Cruise’s Maverick. Even though only words appear on a screen, Kilmer’s iconic portrayal in the 1986 original lingers in the audience’s memory, his cocky, charismatic energy instantly recognizable.

This buildup makes his actual appearance later in the film all the more poignant. When Maverick seeks him out for advice, Kilmer’s Iceman exudes a regal presence, one that has matured with time. Though age has softened him, he retains his signature confidence, now tempered by wisdom. Unlike many characters who mellow into humility, Iceman has grown into a sage-like figure, despite the real-life and narrative challenges he faces. Kilmer’s own battle with throat cancer, which took his voice, adds a profound depth to the role, making his silent strength even more impactful.

It seemed as if everyone involved in the film understood that this scene would serve as a farewell for Kilmer, who passed away at 65 from pneumonia. Though his screen time is brief, it serves as a powerful reminder of the kind of actor he was—one who thrived on unconventional choices, always aiming to surprise and captivate his audience.

In his early years, Kilmer embodied the quintessential Hollywood leading man. His striking good looks, defined by a smoldering intensity and signature pout, made him a natural fit for traditional hero roles. Hollywood, at times, tried to mold him into a conventional star, most notably when he donned the cape and cowl in Joel Schumacher’s “Batman Forever” (1995). However, Kilmer’s true strength lay in his ability to bring complexity and eccentricity to his characters. He was not just a handsome face—he was a character actor at heart, always infusing his roles with an unexpected twist.

Robert Downey Jr. once described him as “chronically eccentric,” a trait that both fueled stories of his on-set difficulties and made his performances endlessly intriguing. Kilmer’s approach to acting was never about excess; rather, it was about uniqueness. He chose roles that defied expectations and played them with an authenticity that kept audiences engaged.

From the very beginning, he avoided being typecast. His debut as a rock star in the satirical film “Top Secret!” (1984) showcased a comedic talent that belied his serious training at Juilliard. Just two years later, his role as Iceman could have locked him into a career of playing cocky, arrogant characters. Yet, Kilmer constantly sought transformation, refusing to settle into predictable patterns.

One of his most celebrated roles came in “Tombstone” (1993), where he portrayed Doc Holliday, a legendary figure of the American West. Kilmer crafted Holliday as both seductive and subtly menacing, his syrupy drawl and composed demeanor making him eerily captivating. Rather than playing Holliday as a man visibly struggling with tuberculosis and alcoholism, Kilmer chose an almost unsettling stillness, making his presence all the more compelling.

His dedication to his craft often bordered on extreme. In the 2021 documentary “Val,” Kilmer recounted how, for “Tombstone,” he had his bed filled with ice to better embody the pain of his character’s final moments. This commitment translated to performances that felt raw and deeply soulful.

That same emotional depth can be seen in Michael Mann’s “Heat” (1995), where he played Chris Shiherlis, a member of a high-stakes criminal crew. While Kilmer imbued Chris with a manic energy fitting for a ruthless thief, he also revealed an unexpected tenderness. His relationship with Ashley Judd’s Charlene added a poignant layer to his character. One of the film’s most heartbreaking moments comes when Chris, realizing he must leave Charlene to avoid capture, watches her silently warn him of the danger. The fleeting yet sincere smile he gives her before driving away is a masterclass in understated emotion.

Despite his intensity, Kilmer also embraced humor, even if it took him some time to do so. Reflecting on “Top Secret!” in a 2014 interview, he admitted that the directors pushed him to have more fun, but he was initially too focused on getting everything “right.” Over time, he learned to balance his meticulous approach with a willingness to embrace the absurd.

His performance in Shane Black’s “Kiss Kiss Bang Bang” (2005) exemplifies this evolution. Playing private investigator Perry van Shrike, also known as “Gay Perry,” Kilmer infused the role with wit and charisma. He personally advocated for Perry to be gay, believing it added much-needed vibrancy to the story. Rather than resorting to caricature, Kilmer delivered a sharp, fast-talking performance that enhanced Black’s signature snappy dialogue. His exasperated interactions with Downey Jr.’s character, particularly over a ceramic gun gifted by his mother, became some of the film’s most memorable moments.

Later in his career, Kilmer fully embraced comedic absurdity. In “MacGruber” (2010), he played the villainous Dieter Von Cunth with over-the-top relish, proudly declaring, “I’m proud of how bad this film is.” His willingness to lean into self-parody demonstrated his evolving relationship with his own image, showing that he never took himself too seriously.

Much of Kilmer’s career is often framed by the roles he turned down. He passed on “The Outsiders” in favor of Broadway, declined “Blue Velvet,” and only played Batman once. But rather than dwelling on what could have been, Kilmer’s choices carved out a filmography that was uniquely his own. He embraced transformation, shifting between tragedy, comedy, and action with an ease few actors could match.

This legacy is perfectly encapsulated in his final “Top Gun: Maverick” moment. As Maverick prepares to leave, Iceman asks, “One last thing—who’s the better pilot, you or me?” Maverick smiles and replies, “This is a nice moment. Let’s not ruin it.” Kilmer’s knowing chuckle, accompanied by that signature grin, serves as a fitting farewell—a reminder of an actor who was never conventional, always compelling, and impossible to forget.