Last time they went to freaking space. In a Pontiac Fiero! So, the biggest question about Fast X, the tenth chapter in the Toretto-centric saga of Southern-California-car-enthusiasts-turned-international-mega-spies, is how the hell are they going to outdo that? Well, Jason Momoa as gay-coded street race Jesus is one way. Unfortunately, Momoa and his delirious, gleeful performance is the only thing Fast X has going for it. It’s also never been clearer just how much this franchise misses the late Paul Walker and how much it’s lost its way since his death.
F9, yes, the ninth installment of everyone’s favorite family-centric saga of street-racers-turned-international-agents-of-espionage, is somehow both exactly as ridiculous as expected and even sillier than anticipated. This makes the movie simultaneously ludicrous over-the-top escapism and tediously overwrought nonsense drama. It’s a strange duality. We’ve come so far from the days of hijacking shipments of DVD players.
