Monday, April 06, 2015

All the Problems I Have With Fast And Furious 7

It's got The Rock in it, playing The Rock
Saturday night to the flicks to see Fast and Furious 7: A tale of revenge versus familial bonding through the medium of very fast cars. Not expecting a Dostoyevskian exploration of crime and punishment (Who are the criminals here? Does the punishment fit the crime? What are split differentials?), I left my brain at the door, and despite drooling into my ice cream, I still had enough IQ to challenge some of the key plot points.

Now, the plot is as transparent as a politician's election promise, but the key point is that Jason Statham (henceforward 'The Stathe') plays a rock-hard Cockney bastard ex-special forces killing machine, who would rip you testicles out through your throat while calling you "Geezer". He employs a force of Nigerian terrorists (yes, very topical), whose sole mission is to look angry while providing the usual highly inaccurate shooting only practised by the very best henchmen trained at The Imperial Empire School of Marksmanship. His motivation is to get revenge on Mr Vin Diesel and the crew for putting his brother in hospital at the end of FF6, illustrated by The Stathe shooting up the hospital and killing everybody inside to make sure that they look after his brother. No, I don't get it, either.

While the film essentially involves the usual car-based heist on a very, very long road; followed by the usual Oceans Eleven-type con and unlikely escape; followed by a climactic car-chase/shoot-out that has served well for seven films now, one cannot help thinking that - while you are supposed to detach yourself from reality - the writers were making it up as they go along.

And that's why I've got a few problems with even this most ridiculous of motion pictures. May contain SPOILERS, but only if you're an idiot.

GEEEEEEEEEZER 
1. On two occasions, Mr Vincent Diesel has The Stathe unarmed and at his mercy with gun(s) pointing at his head. Instead of shooting this unstoppable rock-hard Cockney bastard killing machine in the face and bringing an end to this nonsense, they decide to stop and talk, predicatably allowing The Stathe to escape thanks to the sudden appearance of his heavily-armed goons. On the second occasion Diesel throws away his gun and his tactical advantage and decides to have a fist-fight with this unstoppable rock-hard Cockney bastard killing machine instead, which nearly kills him. You're an idiot, Vin Diesel.

2. The fighting method of choice of both Mr Vincent Diesel and The Stathe is to drive their enormously souped-up cars at each other at breakneck speed and crash into each other head-on. Sod it, I did A-Level physics AND Applied Mathematics, and know full well that - air-bag or no - two tons of metal and no-necked bufoon colliding at around 150mph will kill you stone dead on the spot, the engine block not stopped by something as puny as human legs as it comes roaring through the front bulkhead. You're an idiot Vin Diesel.

3. I've no problem at all with jumping-a-supercar-between-three-skyscrapers sequence while escaping both The Stathe and a completely different set of armed goons. Could happen anywhere. It's the only way you can get a parking space in Basingstoke on some days.

Walker: Gets a happy, hokey ending. People cried.
And there's the lesson we take away from all this: The only way to solve the world's problems is through breaking every traffic and criminal law in the book and drive very very very fast while shooting at each other. This includes curing your grilfriend's amnesia.

A thoroughly idiotic way to spend a Saturday evening. Highly recommended.

3 comments:

  1. And you paid actual Money to see this nonse, or do big-name joke comedy bloggers get free cinema tickets in addition to the other perks like first class air travel, hot and cold running coked-off-their-tits supermodels and a reserved parking space in Basingrad?

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  2. Actually paid, and willingly went to Aldershot to see it (but didn't have a Toby Carvery while I was there).

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  3. Watching crap like that will eventually turn your brain into a soup-like morass; if it hasn't already!

    (definition: an area of muddy or boggy ground. - Wiki)

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