F9: The Fast Saga

I remember being a little kid and delighting in amazement when James Bond’s car turned into a submarine in The Spy Who Loved Me. He drives up on the beach, rolls down his window, and drops a fish out. As a kid, I never asked, “How did the fish get in the car? It’s air tight! The sub would have sank if a fish could get in!” 

Suspension of disbelief is a double negative. It doesn’t work unless there’s something positive to focus on. Preferably something bright and shiny and flying through the air. Preferably something automotive. Dan Casey and the thousands of filmmakers and technicians of F9 understand this and proceed with unbridled, preposterous glee. Sit back, sip your beer, eat your popcorn, and marvel at the excess.

The Fate of the Furious

Jason Statham fares best here, as usual, doing that John Woo/Hard Boiled thing on an airplane rescuing Dom’s baby as he kills no less than 30 dudes. Otherwise, Dom’s baby?? Off screen, Dom actually fell in love? With a woman? And had a baby?? It’s becoming a nitrous-oxide-fueled soap opera with a cast of hundreds. It’s like Game of Thrones – you need a facebook to keep track of everybody. And there’s no sign that this franchise is slowing down. I’m looking forward to the arrival of evil twins. 

 

The Hitman's Bodyguard

As Ryan Reynolds and Samuel L. Jackson sit safely in their green-screen, car-driving soundstage and crack wise, an enormous stunt team schleps around mainland Europe shutting down entire cities and shooting massive, scorched-Earth chase sequences for our viewing pleasure. I’m in awe of the logistics. The story is only so-so.