F1 The Movie: Plan C is for Cliché
Review
After years of European monopoly, Hollywood has once again decided that Formula 1 is ‘hot’ and finally deserves a proper film. No British riffraff, no French philosophising - just fast cuts, expensive equipment, and a big tough hero in the spirit of John Wayne. With the Netflix series Drive To Survive as the ignition and global F1 fever as the turbo engine, the inevitable was born: F1: The Movie. A film that seems to be the wet dream of an American marketing department.
It looks stunning. The cinematography is sharp, flashy, and occasionally even breathtaking. The camera gets so close to the asphalt you might twist your neck just watching. The young hero, Joshua Pearce - played by Damson Idris - could certainly be an emerging talent. But that’s about the only thing truly worth mentioning.
And the rest? A comical repetition of sports movie clichés we’ve seen a hundred times. A seasoned veteran with a lingering trauma who trots into the story like a lonesome cowboy type. A 61-year-old Formula 1 driver who - if that wasn’t already absurd enough - wins the season by ignoring every rule and shred of decency, and of course ends up being right. Then there’s a sponsor, played by Tobias Menzies, who plays a generic "bad guy" without much conviction or apparent reason - something the screenwriters didn’t seem to worry about.
The most enjoyable role comes from Kerry Condon, who plays the female race director of Sonny Haines (Brad Pitt). It’s unfortunate, though, that the film’s obvious nod to feminism - by giving both a female mechanic and a female race director significant roles - doesn’t amount to much more than a gesture. In the end, the women still need Brad Pitt to show them how a car works. It’s hard to imagine how they have managed to do their jobs so well without him. In short, everything checks the old Hollywood boxes, making it all feel like cardboard.
And then, of course, there’s Brad Pitt. Once a star actor, now a walking brand with a helmet on. He tries hard and it shows, but his character has the depth of a brochure, and the dialogue is painfully kitschy at times. When he says things like “Hope is not a strategy,” or “Plan C is for combat,” you can practically hear an eagle screeching in the background and feel a mild urge to gag.
Though the film offers massive entertainment value, F1 The Movie mostly lacks soul. Where John Frankenheimer dared to approach the races almost like a documentary in his 1966 Grand Prix, this film uses editing as its main weapon. Shot after shot, TikTok-worthy cuts, flashbacks, and emotion you have to search for between the crashes and the cheating. With Frankenheimer, you were in the cockpit; here, you’re on a carnival ride.
The comparison with Grand Prix makes it painfully clear: back then, they used real cars, real drivers, and real originality. Rush, on the other hand, had emotion, romance, and humor. Now we get undeniably beautiful visuals - sure - but also blown-up conflicts and a soundtrack that even Hans Zimmer himself must’ve found too bombastic and unoriginal.
F1 The Movie is a spectacle, absolutely. But it’s an empty spectacle. Gorgeous visuals, roaring cars, lots of noise, a few good jokes, and the moment it’s over, you think: “Was that it?” Well, fine, but it’s a shame that the film has been force-fed to us for a year already.
For those who have no idea what Formula 1 actually is - or don’t take it all too seriously - it’s a pretty good movie. But for F1 newbies, I’d guess it’s too much. Then again, who knows? Does saying “DRS” like “Drag Reduction System” multiple times count as explaining what DRS means? The rest is mostly American nonsense at 300 km/h. Throw in a drizzle of nostalgia, a crumb of reality - probably thanks to producer Lewis Hamilton - and a shiny plastic coating, and you’ve got F1 The Movie.