What I’m watching: Fast cars and not so smart smartphonesDate: 5/30/2023 New to Theaters: “Fast X”
Dominic Toretto and his extended family of racing mavericks face off against a daunting foe from their past in “Fast X.”
Few could imagine how 2001’s “The Fast and the Furious” would spawn a generational franchise. The street racing film catapulted from humble origins into becoming a box office phenom, showcasing a refreshing blend of diversity and swagger in its pursuit of high-octane thrills. Eight sequels later, the Fast franchise continues to evolve in compelling ways. “Fast Five” introduced Dwayne Johnson and a renewed emphasis on gleefully implausible driving set pieces.
Soon after, “Furious 7’s” electric escapism culminated with a powerful tribute to the passing of longtime series regular Paul Walker. This moment captured the cultural zeitgeist for a good reason; it peeled back the artifice of movie screens and captured the sentiments of a creative team reeling from an unexpected tragedy. The genuine emotion aching onscreen helped shape a remarkably resonant moment that could connect with anyone gutted by a loved one’s passing.
Now, I know what some of you are thinking, who cares about “The Fast and the Furious” anymore? To many uninitiated viewers, the franchise only stands as a noisy excuse for vehicular mayhem tied together by goofy references to family. It is true; the films offer an onslaught of explosive carnage, and there is an array of sentimental speeches about family values.
That said, I do think there is a special recipe behind the franchise’s success. I always marvel at the sincerity that runs deep through the “Fast and Furious” legacy. The affection shared by the cast and crew of these films is an infectious energy that radiates off the screen. There is also a sly self-awareness streak that has only grown with each entry. With the plot and set pieces only getting more implausible, everyone involved embraces the madness with a spirited, tongue-in-cheek delivery.
For viewers buckled into the long-running series, “Fast X” provides more of the same breathtaking entertainment. A splash of new additions alongside the brand’s long-running appeals helps form another gleeful blockbuster spectacle for the fast brand.
I consider “Fast X” to be a noticeable improvement over the dull eighth entry, “Fate of the Furious,” and the fun yet inconsequential “Fast 9.” A big reason why is the arrival of menacing villain Dante Reyes, who comes to life through the charismatic magnetism of Jason Momoa. The “Aquaman” star chews the scenery like no other, delivering a colorfully maniacal performance that takes center stage throughout the narrative. He is in perfect lockstep with the franchise’s jokingly self-serious approach. Whether he is spewing out over-written lines like “never accept death when suffering is owed,” or indulging in chaos with a Joker-like anarchical edge, Momoa’s dedicated work provides the franchise with its best antagonist to date. In addition, franchise newcomers Brie Larson and Alan Richardson deliver swagger to their roles as field agents following Dominic’s trail.
Including a new perspective behind the director’s chair also infuses new life into the proceedings. Justin Lin previously served as the franchise’s marquee voice, directing five films across the Fast series, including its best entries, “Fast 5” and “The Fast and Furious: Tokyo Drift.” His impact on the brand is undeniable, yet Louis Leterrier makes for a fitting replacement with the latest entry.
“The Transporter” director injects his visceral kineticism into the mix, showcasing a skilled hand in imagining outrageous action on an expensive budget. The hand-to-hand combat is elevated through dynamic camera movements and sharp choreography, while the onslaught of car set pieces continues to up the ante in enthralling ways. It’s a blast seeing the latest hot rods race across the screen with reckless abandon. Leterrier and his team dream up some fittingly implausible sequences here, including Dominic pushing a bomb “Rocket League”-style through the Italian streets and taking down multiple helicopters with one swift driving maneuver. I get it; it’s ludicrous, but that is part of the charm here. I credit Leterrier for seamlessly embedding himself into the franchise and its outlandish aesthetics.
Even with several new flourishes, much of “Fast X” retains a comforting air of familiarity. Vin Diesel’s soft-spoken presence and distinctive gravitas remain ever-present as family patriarch Dominic Toretto. Tyrese Gibson and Ludacris continue to trade light-hearted barbs as Roman and Tej. Michelle Rodriguez, Jason Statham and John Cena pack a movie star punch in their respective roles, and franchise favorite Sung Kang retains his suave aura as Han. The returning players share a richly lived-in bond that genuinely personifies the franchise’s focus on familial ties. As the series ages, there is a sense of nostalgic wistfulness lingering under the surface. Everyone involved appreciates the journey they have shared together and is well aware that their collective story is nearing the end of its road.
Is “Fast X” perfect? Certainly not. The narrative’s growing scale leads to a bloated 142-minute experience that wanders more than it should, with the film often jostling between subplots that vary in effectiveness. This mixed bag of detours eventually concludes with one of the most baffling cliffhanger endings I’ve seen in recent memory. It was so jarring that I thought the film projector had broken down, although an excellent post-credit scene somewhat makes up for the bewilderment.
It won’t be for everyone, but “Fast X” delivers the rousing jolt of nitrous-fueled speed that fans of the brand have come to adore. Just don’t go in expecting Shakespeare.
Also in Theaters: “BlackBerry”
Computing wunderkind Mike Lazaridis and his ragtag team at Research In Motion conceive an ingenious idea — a cellular phone that possesses the infinite capabilities of a personal computer. The coders are stuck in a developmental rut until Lazaridis entrusts his company in the hands of cutthroat businessman Jim Balsillie. From there, Lazaridis and Balsillie reach meteoric highs and catastrophic lows in guiding the world’s first smartphone in writer-director Matt Johnson’s biopic “BlackBerry.”
Innovation is an ever-moving treadmill. One second, a piece of technology is an indelible part of our lives. The next, another creation captures the spotlight and we quickly discard what we once obsessed over. Now, I don’t want to spoil every detail about “BlackBerry,” although readers could probably guess by the absence of BlackBerry phones in today’s marketplace where this story is heading.
The path of “BlackBerry” may seem straightforward, but Johnson’s film injects a lively pulse into the age-old parable. With “BlackBerry,” Johnson cultivates an exhilarating experience that infuses striking insights and technical verve into the well-worn biopic formula.
As someone who sifts through a murderers’ row of painfully generic true story adaptations, I give Johnson significant praise for defining an alluring imprint on his material. His film skillfully leans into the energy of its late 1990s/early 2000s setting, utilizing retrograde footage and zeitgeist songs to capture a time and place when the world was on the brink of seismic changes. There is a palpable momentum throughout Johnson’s direction; he proves himself as a master of balancing the euphoria and dread embedded within the BlackBerry story. His implementation of accomplished filmmaking techniques, like frenzied handheld camerawork and expressive framing choices, all serve as effective tools for capturing the roller coaster ride our characters embark on.
Like most films about business, “BlackBerry” evolves into a story about values. Lazaridis and his team of quirky coders are a makeshift family. When they are not operating like pirates on the frontier of unexplored computing power, the group basks in a shared camaraderie compromised of cheerful banter and festive movie nights. The characters represent an apt embodiment of ’90s anti-conformity culture, stepping to the beat of their own drum by embracing creation over corporate cynicism.
That all changes when Balsillie comes into play. Storming his way into the office like a locomotive train hellbent on reaching its destination, Balsillie is the ultimate embodiment of capitalist practices. He pays no mind to what the product is or how it can benefit the world, instead boasting a singular fixation on how to monetize it on his pathway toward becoming a social elite.
Johnson’s film is at its best when depicting the war between these juxtaposing sensibilities. As BlackBerry evolves from an out-of-the-box concept into a multi-billion-dollar product, the film adeptly grasps onto the erosion of values as the company forms into a soulless shadow of what it used to represent. Sure, this concept is not groundbreaking, and the film struggles at times to convey every nuance within its decade-plus timeline. However, Johnson’s ability to capture the humanity buried within this transformation often lands with piercing results.
A spellbinding cast also elevates “BlackBerry’s” strengths. Fans of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” have grown to love Glenn Howerton for his unhinged comedic portrayal of sociopath Dennis Reynolds. Here, Howerton offers a career-best performance stepping into the shoes of Jim Balsillie. The actor conjures a boiling rage that permeates into every scene, menacingly stomping around the office and throwing a flurry of insults at all who dare to challenge him. It would be easy for Balsillie’s confrontational personality to come off as a half-baked caricature, yet Howerton always grasps the vulnerabilities motivating Balsillie’s transformation into a monstrous figure. Likewise, comedic stalwart Jay Baruchel is excellent in evolving Mike Lazaridis from a modest computer nerd into a cutthroat business leader. Johnson also provides a warm performance as Mike’s best friend that tries to hold the company’s once-bright spirit together.
Following in the footsteps of accomplished tech-based biopics like “Steve Jobs” and “The Social Network,” “BlackBerry” explores a forgotten cultural footnote with fascinating results.
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