F1: The Movie is an impressive act of substitution. Remove Tom Cruise, insert Brad Pitt. Remove Jennifer Connelly, insert Kerry Condon. Remove Miles Teller, insert Damson Idris then transfer the setting from Top Gun Academy to the Formula One racetrack and there you have it - Joseph Kosinski’s latest film. With that I could basically finish this review. 

 

Which is not to say that F1: The Movie isn’t worth your time. Anytime Brad Pitt or Damson Idris’ faces are smushed into their helmets, Hans Zimmer’s techno score is blasting and the camera is throwing you around the moving vehicle in ways you haven’t seen before, you totally forget your urge to piss. With Top Gun: Maverick and now this, it is safe to say Kosinski is at the moment the best director at depicting high octane. And he deserves full credit for that, because he captures way more than just the cars going fast in the film’s many races. We understand the geography of Sonny Hayes (Pitt), his teammate Joshua Pearce (Idris), Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen and whichever other real drivers agreed to have their names read out, while we also understand the emotions and interplay between the APXGP team and the pit crew, technicians, and owner (Javier Bardem chewing up scenery like it’s nothing) so clearly in each race. It’s essentially a massive juggling act that never drops the ball or bowling pin or flaming machete and that sort of spectacle deserves applause.

 

Unfortunately for the film, there are moments when racing isn’t happening. They aren’t even bad per se, but you just can’t help but start to notice your leg twitching and your desire to piss rear its head when no car is in sight. It’s completely unoriginal. Pitt’s character never won a race (try and pick the ending), Idris' character is arrogant (I wonder who will make a sacrifice for their teammate to win) and Condon’s character feels the need to prove people wrong as the first female head technician of an F1 team (guess who’s car design is crucial to the win).

 

Redemption is earned. The race is won. Condon and Pitt kiss triumphantly, Bardem gets to keep the team from conniving board members and Idris has his whole career ahead of him. It’s sports movie shit. It’ll get you sometimes, sports movies always do. They get into our skin through some uncontrollable human desire to see underdogs win. The thing about the film is - it is no underdog. It has one of the most recognisable faces in human history at its centre, is produced by one of the largest companies in the world and almost every shot has some brand name or logo present. So yeah the underdog stuff worked on me at times, I can’t help it, but there was also this dissonance I felt in my seat. It was like hearing a billionaire’s son give a seminar on how he worked hard to be the CFO of his dad’s company.

 

Maybe other people don’t care about this stuff, but to me there was no authenticity to it. I keep writing it works sometimes because I never felt it had what the best sports films have - danger. There’s danger when Rocky agrees to fight Apollo Creed, he’s scared and we really believe that fear because we know Stallone, just like Rocky, is risking it all for a chance to win. Nothing is on the line for Apple, or Formula One, or Plan B or any of the other production companies whose logos you have to endure at the beginning of F1: The Movie.

 

It feels like an ad. Before anyone nitpicks the criticism and says that, “well it would look wrong if all those sponsorships weren’t there cause that’s what F1 is really like,” that’s not why it feels like an ad (okay, well slightly). There is that sheen on this film that you only really get with car commercials. Everything is too pristine. Every prop, character, and story beat is smoothed under the lighting, not allowing the audience to see any imperfections.

 

Ultimately, the film is like Brad Pitt playing Sonny Hayes. Brad Pitt is very entertaining on screen and I happily watch him. Do I believe a guy like that could be an underdog - never. They slap some bad tattoos on him and a back scar to try and take him down a peg to the lowly level us theatregoers. And we believe he is like us, probably because we want him to be, for the most part. But that part in our brains can’t help but notice, he hasn’t aged naturally, his hair always looks perfect and he’s never in any real danger.