Fast & Furious

Something very strange happened to me over the Easter holiday. There I was, minding my own business, when suddenly I started to feel light-headed. I distinctly remember staggering around before giving up and crashing to the ground. When I awoke I was in a screening of “Fast & Furious” with a large Coke in my hands. I tried to run, but was held down by a mysterious force. I swear to God, I’m telling the truth. What I’m saying is be careful out there, people. It could happen to you…

Fast & Furious (2009)


The “Fast and the Furious” series and I have had a checkered past. We’ve mostly stayed out of the other one’s way. I remember watching the first one and rather enjoying it- it was definitely something I hadn’t seen before and the car stunts were really good. However, when I watched “2 Fast 2 Furious” I found it to be 2 shit 4 words. I therefore gave the only tangentally related “…Tokyo Drift” a miss, because I had better things to do with my time than see another installment of “Vroom Vroom, Crash Crash LOL!!1”

“A real driver knows what’s exactly in his car.”

When a mutual friend is suddenly murdered by a Los Angeles drug cartel, FBI agent Brian O’Conner (Paul Walker) and outlaw boy racer Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel) separately infiltrate the shady organisation in search of revenge, justice and screeching handbrake turns. The plot is crappy, but so it should be in order to not get in the way of the braless women and shiny cars. This really is movie making for those who struggle to read the back of cereal packets. However, I wasn’t really expecting much. In terms of actors, Vin Diesel is well, Vin Diesel- but that’s fine. He plays Vin Diesel well so why change things? At least he better than Paul “No Charisma” Walker. Seriously, he is so bland it made me a bit angry. I wanted to reach into the screen and choke him for having no presence at all.

The opening sequence is undeniably impressive as our ‘lovable’ gang of scallywags try to jack an oil tanker using fast, shiny cars and Vin Diesel’s bald, shiny head. It works well as an attention-grabbing opener, but then cacks its underpants with an overuse of CGI, therefore taking any danger out of the situation. Come on “F&F”, it’s 2009. Overuse of CGI is so early 2000s. Films have evolved since then, why haven’t you? Oh yes, because your target audience are fucking morons who need to see a shiny car or big titted woman every 5 minutes lest they get bored and read a book. There’s a race midway through the film where all the cars are taking orders from a Sat-Nav, giving us full-screen visualisations of the proposed route and looking like a cheap version of “Tron”, if that’s even possible. Yes, it’s that stupid. To paraphrase the brilliant Morbo from “Futurama”: “Sat-Nav does not work that way! Goodnight!”

When the racers go to a club, the film reminded me of everything I hate about it. Vin Diesel sits down and orders a Corona brand beer before we see Paul Walker blandly come in and pass several groups of women kissing each other, wearing the material equivalent of a small T-shirt between them. I should go on record and say I have no problem with women kissing other women, it’s just when it is done this childishly and is such an obvious ploy to get moron eyeball focus up another 15%, it depresses me. Maybe I’m just getting old, but the scene where Vin Diesel is talking to some slag in the basement of the party, I just wanted the poor girl to put on a bra. Everything was so visible she may as well have been topless. Again, don’t have anything against topless women (in fact, I encourage it) but the whole scene was tacky rather than sexy.

“…Just like old times”

“Fast & Furious” is just what you expect it to be if your brain is at least half functioning. It’s a dumb film packed with loud noises and shiny things. The action sequences are good, but it’s hardly worth recommending it for them alone. If you want to have the full “F&F” experience at home, just read “Max Power” magazine whilst masturbating, flicking your eyes between the fake-titted bimbos and shiny, shiny bonnets. Once you’re done, pull up your trousers and give yourself a long, hard look in the mirror before crying yourself to sleep.

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