If there was ever a blueprint to make a big, dumb movie, this is it. Michael Bayís vision of perfection has finally been manifested. Too bad he had nothing to do with it. However, I must make a disclaimer: I watched this movie after getting food poisoning, so I missed a few scenes. Thai Curry had my ass hurting like I just got out of jailÖor just put in jail, whichever one gets you more raped.
What do the critics and the years have in common? Both seem to hate Paul Walker. At least Barack aged fast because heís running the world, and Lindsey Lohan got to do some pretty awesome drugs. Paulís best excuse is Takers. And Vin Diesel is changing into the exact opposite, with his fat face. He is turning into one of those talking babies who do the day-trading commercials. Youíd think he was in his second trimester with the amount of water weight infesting his jowls. And if he closed his eyes, his head would look like a giant testicle.
Like I said, this is a big dumb movie and should be reviewed as such, so letís jump right to the chase (pun intended):
Corpse Count: 26 (estimated) kills. This is kind of low for the amount of explosions, crashes, bullets, and collateral damage inflicted upon Rio. Vin balks at killing a guy who is dead set on killing him, but doesnít flinch when it comes to driving 70mph on a sidewalk down a busy street with guns blazing. I love how even the good guys don’t mind killing civilians in the wake of their own adreniline fueled quests for lucre. After all, Rio is leveled but the innocent bystandards aren’t even Americans, so it’s all ok because Vin Diesel needs to buy more tight t-shirts. It’s kind of like running your lawn mower over an ant pile so you can cut your grass. Also, for a movie where people jump 200 feet off a bridge or crawl out of burning wreckage unharmed, it seems odd that a semi-main character dies 15 minutes after getting shot once, in the stomach. Before that honkey shuffles off his mortal coils, he asks Vin to look after his son, which obviously isnít his. The little tike is a few shades darker than a whole wheat sandwich, and the mama is a sexy redbone, just a little lighter than a basketball, but nobody bats an eyelash. Maury Povitch needs to spend a week in Brazil; Iím not sure they understand how babies get thier color. Gut-shot peckerwood, you are NOT the father!
Car Count: Dozens, possibly in the low hundreds. I couldnít even keep track. If you like watching speeding automobiles be reshaped by other speeding automobiles, then this is your movie. There were more wrecks than a Beijing driverís ed. And Dodge paid some serious coin because they were better advertised than abortion is in those bloody, painful childbirth videos. I was half expecting a Charger to sprout wings and shoot smaller, exploding Chargers out a big cannon at the bad guys below, and then have Vin look at the camera and say, “let’s see them dodge that.”
Premise: It all starts off with some stolen cars. A microchip gets involved. Shit is heavy. Bad guys get pissed. Teams are assembled. Heists are planned. The U.S. government is on the trail. Poor people and their neighborhoods are injected for mere ambiance. General mayhem and bravado provide a bustling crescendo, predictably fading out into a montage where every main character acts like heís never had money before, thus solidifying the audienceís link to the film. It was all very well done. It was like an Oceanís 11 for teenagers. With no hint of irony or sarcasm, I can honestly say I enjoyed the ride.
Best Fight Scene: The Rock Vs. Vin Diesel. When I go to a bar and picture fighting some guy in my head, this is always how I want it to go down: solid blows are landed. Grown men are sent flying. The thuds and smacks from comic book pages are given new life. This was an epic battle of caramel fury, with the tactics of Bloodsport and the primordial energy of Roadhouse. Knuckles and elbows were given out in plenty, but fucks were not.
Dialogue: Childishly lovable, but corny like Shoeless Joeís afterlife. The script seems like it was written by an adult who had a vague grasp of how teenagers used to talk. Also, having Paul Walker yell, ďI own you!Ē to a black guy after beating him in a race was something somebody should have edited out. But itís a fool who searches for appropriate colloquialisms in a movie that has more explosions than three syllable words.
Best thing in the movie: Two Chargers hooking cables to a three ton safe and pulling it around Rio, demolishing every thing it touches. It’s like having your own wrecking ball and being let loose amongst society to wield it as you see fit. Whoever thought this up probably probably jerks off to Godzilla movies, and not the porn parody ones either.
Best thing not in the movie: Michelle Rodriguez. She always plays a horrible, boisterous cunt of a woman, and I have genuine hate for her. She walks around every movie with more chips on her shoulder than a Tostitos-addicted retard with an overbite. Plus, her voice reminds me of an aggressive, pubescent boy. She should do voices for silly little cartoons and shit or phone sex for incarcerated priestsÖ and she may have to if her acting career keeps going this way. Iím just glad she didnít make an appearance here, Maybe she got killed off in one of the other prequels. I have no idea, never saw any. I heard one even had a redneck that went to the Orient to ďdriftĒ cars, whatever the fuck that means.
Overall: A really exciting, fun movie to get the juices flowing. When the theatre let out, I was amped up! I actually drove home at 90 MPH! A film hasnít affected me that much since I beat up all those women after watching Million Dollar Baby.