Main cast: Paul Walker (Brian Earl Spilner/Officer Brian O’Conner), Vin Diesel (Dominic “Dom” Toretto), Michelle Rodriguez (Letty), Jordana Brewster (Mia Toretto), and Rick Yune (Johnny Tran)
Director: Rob Cohen
One of the main reasons when my husband and I prefer to catch a movie in the privacy of our home as opposed to going to a theater is because we know some movies are meant to be enjoyed in between discussions and laughter. The Fast and the Furious is one such movie. If I watch it alone, seriously like I’m watching some drama, I’ll eat the VCD player. But between me and hubby ripping the movie apart and comparing notes about how silly the movie is, the movie becomes a fun experience to enjoy.
The plot, if you really need one, is a cop Brian who goes undercover to infiltrate a stolen goods fencing ring. This ring is closely associated with the high octane street racing world, so he practices his mad evil driver skills hard. He also befriends former con and now street racer/kung fu master Dominic Toretto, played in perfect monochrome and monotone by Vin Diesel. It’s Mr Diesel’s best impersonation of a pile of scrap iron to date. But with those muscles threatening to rip out of those tight tank tops of his, I’m too busy fanning myself to care.
I hereby reverently elevate Paul Walker to the title of the Prince of Slash. Here, he and Mr Diesel exchange long, soulful glances as they caress the rifles and guns in their hands like… er, never mind. Mr Walker really gets pumped up and I think his curly, no doubt expensively groomed hair – with the right amount of ruggedness balanced with pure hair chemical bounce – is to die for. He too looks sweet on my eyes. Between he and Mr Diesel and all those hard-muscled bodies in tight tank tops and tattoos prancing on screen, I am in heaven. This is the sweetest no-brainer eye candy soft porn blockbuster since Mark Wahlberg, Antonio Sabato, Jr, and that Lou Diamond Phillips’s naked torso orgy in The Big Hit.
For the guys, we have all those female bosoms and tight bums in very abbreviated clothing. They rub against the shiny bodies of the cars, they have girlfriends to share the bed with you, and they also act tough with metal and leather.
Of course, this movie is nothing but eye candy and long car races. The plot doesn’t bear analyzing. Every little plot device here is an excuse to enact a fisticuff scene or a car race. You have problems? Let’s duke it out with our fists! Your buddy died? Express your anger and grief by speeding past an oncoming train just when the train is this close, only to get hit by a truck while you are catching your breath after your brush with death. Well, at least this movie knows some dark humor too. And that’s a good thing among all the silly, monotonous dialogues and acting and silly car gangbangs and all.
But it’s all fun in the spirit of good cheese and harmless ogling. Between trashing this movie and commenting on how gorgeous these people are – they may claim to be from the ghettos, but they all have memberships to the best gyms around – hubby and I give our two thumbs up and pay our respects to the altar of the god of cheesy movies. We need more movies like The Fast and the Furious, oh yes we do!