Rating: C+
Dir: Louis Leterrier
Star: Vin Diesel, Jason Momoa, John Cena, Leo Abelo Perry
It has been 22 years since I watched the very first movie in this franchise, The Fast and the Furious. I have not, to my recollection, seen any of the eight movies between it and this entry (though I did enjoy spin-off, Hobbs & Shaw). But Chris caught a bit of it on an airplane, and decided it needed to be seen on a screen larger than her phone. I suggested that we should clear 16 hours from our schedule to watch parts 2-9 – otherwise, all the subtle character development would be lost. She declined. So here we are. To be fair, she has a point. You no more need to have seen the previous installments to enjoy this, than you do to appreciate Backdoor Sluts 9.
That said, I’m fairly sure some stuff here would make more sense e.g. the late appearance of Gal Gadot probably meant something. The group headed by Dominic Toretto (Diesel) now seems to employ more people than Wal-Mart, and diversified into many areas beyond illegal street-racing. We’ll take it as read that this all makes adequate sense. Here, Toretto, Inc. is under attack by Dante Reyes (Momoa), whose father was killed in the climax of… [checks notes] Fast Five. He’s not content merely to kill Dante in revenge, but first wants to destroy all held dear, including his young son, Little B (Perry). Fortunately, Dante’s brother, Jakob (Cena) is there to take care of B, his father being other engaged, saving Rome from being nuked ‘n’ stuff.
This sequence is utterly mad, featuring a flaming “neutron mine” (whatever that is), rolling through the streets of the Eternal City, while Dante uses his apparently indestructible car to try and divert it into the river. This also includes the immortal line, “I can lock onto your location and transmit cellular interference through your phone. That should jam his detonator.” Wait, what? It’s a glorious, insane sequence, fit to cap any other franchise. Here, it takes place in the opening third, which gives you some idea of where this will eventually end up – see the top picture for another clue. Suffice to say, the $340 million budget – slightly more than the GDP of the Cook Islands – is undeniably all up there on the screen.
The rest of it though? Forgettable at best, and actively annoying (that’d be Little B) at best. This might be me, in the film’s defense. Ten movies in, it’s not unreasonable for the makers to assume familiarity with the characters, so the lack of effort there is understandable. Momoa, playing a new character, comes off best: he seems to be having fun, and that comes across to the audience. Everyone else though, are little more than placeholders, human screen-savers intended to occupy the blank space between monstrous, over-the-top set pieces. Yet watching this a few days after another Cena flick, Hidden Strike, demonstrates the difference between bad big-budget cinema and good bad big-budget cinema. After the open ending, Chris may still not have wanted to see Fast 2-9. However, Fast 11 is likely on the list.