The Fate of the Furious Review

It is a convenient thing having car companies pay for product placement in movies, because "The Fate of the Furious" contains such an expensive cast and so much GCI spectacle that the film otherwise could not afford them. There is so much mindless action that upon walking out of the multiplex, I needed a break. I felt like reading a book, not because I like reading, but because my brain needed something intelligent to consume before it turned to mush.

Now, and I apologize if I seem to go off for a moment, but did you know that movie trailers got their name because the used to come after the feature presentation (as in, they "trail" them)? Now, it makes sense that films today have trailers come before the movie (gotta make room for those post credit scenes, which this flick fortunately does not have), but before "The Fate of the Furious" began, a trailer for, you guessed it, "The Fate of the Furious" was played. Let that sink in. I do not know if that was just a fluke by my local theater, but if the TV commercials for the film didn't give away many of the set pieces, then seeing a big-screen trailer before the movie certainly did.

To describe the plot would be a waste of your time and mine, so I won't bother; any of the omnipresent TV commercial tells you it all. But to properly do my job here, I must tell you that Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel) betrays his buddies of street racers (that is what this franchise is about, right?) when he meets Cipher (Charlize Theron), a cyberterrorist who is holding his infant son hostage. This really pisses his wife, Letty Ortiz (Michelle Rodriguez), as well as the rest of the crew, when he suddenly "goes rogue" during an EMP device heist, and steals said device. It takes the motley crew until the end of the movie to figure out why Vinny has swapped sides, but that would insinuate that time is spent with the characters as they work thing out.

But the 136 minute long film has little interest in taking things slow (or itself seriously, or honestly, complying to the laws of physics). James Bond this is not, even if its box-office results are comparable. Mr Nobody's (Kurt Russell) sole reason for existing is to cheat the plot, by "having connections" and "being off the grid," so the gang can drive fast cars well above the speed limit. And let me tell you, that is big a waste of Kurt Russell's talent and charisma; when he is on screen, the film takes its only pauses, and you cannot help but smile watching him imbue such an otherwise disposable character with smugness only he can.

The other actors are less successful, particularly those who you never see leading a movie. Charlize is a noticeable bore, a terrific actress who has nothing particularly interesting to do or say. She walks from one computer monitor to another, whispering monologues that really never amount to much. But most flagrant is Michelle, a strong lady who is portrayed so helpless without her onscreen husband. Sure, she drives fast, but so can teenagers; the same woman we've seen fighting zombies in other films can only win a fight here by kicking a man in the groin.

There is at least humor, a lot of it, but much of it is forced (at one point, one of the characters takes "a selfie"). But you cannot argue that the cast has its inherent charm, particularly from Jason Statham, who plays Deckard Shaw. His best moment, as well as the film's, is when he takes down numerous baddies while carrying a baby. My mouth couldn't help but smile at that. But who is disappointing is Dwayne Johnson, who gives a cursory performance here, reducing himself to being the guy who does the one-liners. At one point he says "knock knock" before crashing through a wall. I'm sorry, but I preferred it when Arnold Schwarzenegger said it in "Predator."

They go all over the globe, from the congested streets of New York to icy Russia, because New York is crowded and Russia is snowy. And there is destruction everywhere the evil people go and the good guys follow, from hack-able cars to a submarine, and those pretty faces driving the fast and furious cars are constantly in harms way. But as a viewer, there is no excitement; we know this is a franchise, and that no one in the group is going to die, because they need to appear in the obligatory sequel. That strips the action of all the stakes, and cheats the audience in the process.

Yet, no matter how many cars crash, and no matter how many explosions go off, its technical craft collapses under its own gratuity. You ever see a wrecking ball smash through a line of Berlin military cars in pursuit? I have, and you probably have too, in the commercial for this film. But why? So they can steal the aforesaid EMP device? What does this have to do with street racing? Isn't that what we started going to the theater to see? Long-lasting franchises know this, but when your film series has gone so far into insanity, you need to go back to its roots. The James Bond pictures know this, but then again, those are not factory made. These films are like the cars they advertise: they are manufactured on an assembly line for the average consumer.