
Movie Review: From bumper to bumper, ‘F1' is Formula One spectacle
Kosinski, who last endeavored to put moviegoers in the seat of a fighter jet in 'Top Gun: Maverick,' has moved to the open cockpits of Formula One with much the same affection, if not outright need, for speed. A lot of the same team is back. Jerry Bruckheimer produces. Ehren Kruger, a co-writer on 'Maverick,' takes sole credit here. Hans Zimmer, a co-composer previously, supplies the thumping score.
And, again, our central figure is an older, high-flying cowboy plucked down in an ultramodern, gas-guzzling conveyance to teach a younger generation about old-school ingenuity and, maybe, the enduring appeal of denim.
But whereas Tom Cruise is a particularly forward-moving action star, Brad Pitt, who stars as the driving-addicted Sonny Hayes in 'F1,' has always been a more arrestingly poised presence. Think of the way he so calmly and half-interestedly faces off with Bruce Lee in Quentin Tarantino's 'Once Upon a Time … in Hollywood.' In the opening scene of 'F1,' he's sleeping in a van with headphones on when someone rouses him. He splashes some water on his face and walks a few steps over to the Daytona oval, where he quickly enters his team's car, in the midst of a 24-hour race. Pitt goes from zero to 180 mph in a minute.
Sonny, a long-ago phenom who crashed out of Formula One decades earlier and has since been racing any vehicle, even a taxi, he can get behind the wheel of, is approached by an old friend, Ruben Cervantes (Javier Bardem) about joining his flagging F1 team, APX. Sonny turns him down at first but, of course, he joins and 'F1' is off to the races.
The title sequence, exquisitely timed to the syncopated rhythms of Zimmer's score, is a blistering introduction. The hotshot rookie driver Noah Pearce (Damson Idris) is just running a practice lap, but Kosinski, his camera adeptly moving in and out of the cockpit, uses the moment to plunge us into the high-tech world of Formula One, where every inch of the car is connected to digital sensors monitored by a watchful team. Here, that includes technical director Kate McKenna (Kerry Condon) and Kaspar Molinski (Kim Bodnia), the team's chief.
Verisimilitude is of obvious importance to the filmmakers, who bathe this very Formula One-authorized film in all the sleek operations and globe-trotting spectacle of the sport. That Apple, which produced the film, would even go for such a high-priced summer movie about Formula One is a testament to the upswing in popularity of a sport once quite niche in America, and of the halo effects of both the Netflix series 'Formula 1: Drive to Survive' and the much-celebrated driver Lewis Hamilton, an executive producer on 'F1.'
Whether 'F1' pleases diehards I'll leave to more ardent followers of the circuit. But what I can say definitively is that Claudio Miranda knows how to shoot it. The cinematographer, who has shot all of Kosinski's films as well as wonders like Ang Lee's 'Life of Pi,' brings Formula One to vivid, visceral life. When 'F1' heads to the big races, Miranda is always simultaneously capturing the zooming cars from the asphalt while backgrounding it with the sweeping spectacle of a course like the U.K.'s fabled Silverstone Circuit.
OK, you might be thinking, so the racing is good; is there a story? There's what I'd call enough of one, though you might have to go to the photo finish to verify that. When Sonny shows up, and rapidly turns one practice vehicle into toast, it's clear that he's going to be an agent of chaos at APX, a low-ranking team that's in heavy debt and struggling to find a car that performs.
This gives Pitt a fine opportunity to flash his charisma, playing Sonny as an obsessive who refuses any trophy and has no real interest in money, either. The flashier, media-ready Noah watches Sonny's arrival with skepticism, and two begin more as rivals than teammates. Idris is up to the mano-a-mano challenge, but he's limited by a role ultimately revolving around — and reducing to — a young Black man learning a lesson in work ethic.
A relationship does develop, but 'F1' struggles to get its characters out of the starting blocks, keeping them closer to the cliches they start out as. The actor who, more than anyone, keeps the momentum going is Condon, playing an aerodynamics specialist whose connection with Pitt's Sonny is immediate. Just as she did in between another pair of headstrong men in 'The Banshees of Inisherin,' Condon is a rush of naturalism.
If there's something preventing 'F1' from hitting full speed, it's its insistence on having its characters constantly voice Sonny's motivations. The same holds true on the race course, where broadcast commentary narrates virtually every moment of the drama. That may be a necessity for a sport where the crucial strategies of hot tires and pit-stop timing aren't quite household concepts. But the best car race movies — from 'Grand Prix' to 'Senna' to 'Ferrari' — know when to rely on nothing but the roar of an engine.
'F1' steers predictably to the finish line, cribbing here and there from sports dramas before it. (Tobias Menzies plays a board member with uncertain corporate goals.) When 'F1' does, finally, quiet down, for one blissful moment, the movie, almost literally, soars. It's not quite enough to forget all the high-octane macho dramatics before it, but it's enough to glimpse another road 'F1' might have taken.
'F1,' an Apple Studios productions released by Warner Bros., is rated PG-13 by the Motion Picture Association for strong language and action. Running time: 155 minutes. Three stars out of four.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Winnipeg Free Press
2 days ago
- Winnipeg Free Press
Fringe at its gut-clutching best when it layers on the cringe
I have just laughed as hard as I have at the Winnipeg Fringe Festival in 20 years. Prodded in the gut until air escaped me in the most embarrassing way. The offending object was a play by Winnipeg performer Donnie Baxter called Shit: The Musical, which has its last show at 8:45 p.m. tonight. Supplied Shit: The Musical possesses a kind of gonzo spirit. My bright, witty peer Jeffrey Vallis gave it a one-star review in the Free Press last week. '(It) feels like a '90s after-school show gone horribly wrong — like if Barney sang about bowel movements instead of friendship,' he writes. 'Set in a university lecture hall, Dr. Eaton Fartmore teaches a class on the semantics of poop through stories and off-key songs that drag on like a bad bout of constipation.' All of this is essentially true — in fact, the play's narrative is perhaps even flimsier than this. But there's little accounting for taste — or for the tasteless things we savour. I will endeavour all the same. Imagine you are at the beautifully modern Theatre Cercle Moliere, named after France's most renowned satirist of its classical theatre. It's 11 p.m. on a Wednesday and there's a senior citizen singing tunelessly, 'Farts, farts, farts, always stink, don't you think? It's a shame, this awful name.' The awful name in question is his own, Dr. Fartmore, and this professor of linguists is riffing on Shakespeare's line about roses smelling as sweet by any other name. Groan? The audience of 30 assembled isn't laughing. Not yet. The fact they are not, only makes me laugh harder. It's as though we've all been ensnared in one of Ionesco's or Artaud's glorious trolls on audiences in their mid-century absurdist experiments. But for this to be funny for a few, seemingly it has to stink for many — including obviously Vallis, who does have a good sense of humour. I'm sure his bad review wasn't happily received by performer-playwright Baxter because at the end of the day, bad reviews are usually bad business. Fringe performers sink thousands of dollars and countless hours — staking not just their savings, but their reputations — on the chance to entertain us and hopefully break even. And they do it at a time when live theatre is said to be more endangered than ever, dulled by the narcotic pull of screen media: TikTok and Instagram memes, Netflix and the ever-churning algorithm. Believe it or not, we reviewers — as much as some may curse our names in the fringe beer tent — try to bear this in mind. But as Orwell's old adage goes, oddly fitting for the high politics of local theatre: 'Journalism is printing what someone else does not want printed: everything else is public relations.' All to say: Vallis's pointed, funny reaction to Shit: The Musical is as valid as the myriad bad, middling and good reviews we've issued through this festival. Still, in ultimately relenting to Baxter's routine I felt I was exorcising something. A resistance that reviewers like me can develop to a certain spirit of fringe that stubbornly eludes the star system. A gonzo spirit shared by another DIY artform supposedly destroying live art like theatre: internet memes. I mean especially those associated online humour styles that go by names like post-irony, shitposting, layered cringe. This is absurdist, often lowbrow humour that echoes older comedians such as Andy Kauffman, Tom Green, Eric Andre and Tim Heidecker. But otherwise, it's distinctly Gen Z — mocking those Millennials whose humour is still stuck in the era of YouTube, Vines and Jim Carrey movies when comedy meant straightforward skits, polished punchlines and mugging for the camera. Maybe it also owes something to a certain stubborn set of ideas still circulating in universities. Most liberal arts students, sooner or later, encounter the work of another French oddball who came after Ionesco and Artaud: Jean-François Lyotard, with his theory of postmodernity. This theory (stick with me) says we now live in a postmodern era — an age where 'grand narratives' have collapsed. Big, sweeping explanations such as Marxism or Christianity no longer hold sway. Instead, knowledge loops back on itself: science, ethics and meaning justify themselves by referencing other systems, not some fixed reality. Lyotard knew this would leave us ironic, skeptical, suspicious of truth claims — and he seemed basically fine with that. His critics weren't. They called it nihilism and accused him of corrupting young minds with moral relativism. Right or wrong about knowledge or modernity, Lyotard was strangely ahead of his time when it comes to understanding humour. So much of online youth humour feels postmodern today. It disdains narrative. Conventional storytelling jokes, unless ironically dumb, are old hat. Humour now is 'irony-poisoned,' as the phrase goes — self-referential, looping endlessly through layers of memes. But in being 'poisoned,' it's also frequently amoral, cruel even. This humour delights in mocking 'theatre kids' and older generations — people who crack earnest, dorky jokes and wear their sincerity a little too openly. Their guileless enthusiasm gets labelled 'cringe,' then enjoyed and recreated ironically for laughs. I am, despite these misgivings and my elder Millennial status, addicted to absurd Gen Z humour. Which leads me to wonder: is it possible I enjoyed the plotless Shit: The Musical and other one-star fare this year for unkind reasons? Was I laughing at Baxter, this 'theatre kid' in his 60s with juvenile but sincere humour who can't carry a tune to save his life, instead of with him? Maybe at first. But Baxter was also clearly laughing at us — trolling us like Eric Andre or an online shitposter, figures he may know nothing about, to test our prudish reflexes. Our lack of whimsy. And a certain point, about halfway through the play, it worked. The audience started giggling, going along with Baxter. Then roaring. So many fringe shows reach melodramatically for the universal in the most sublime and tragic things. Heaven and hell. Baxter's awkward, taboo stories about embarrassing trips to the bathroom on first dates and his surprisingly enlightening explanation of healthy stool shapes felt oddly more honest. I've had a lovely fringe festival this year. And reflecting back, I think the shows that have stayed with me weren't always the tight, touring shows I may have felt obligated to award high stars to. They weren't the shows with wham-bam, but ultimately safe, humour delivered with the finesse of new Simpsons or old Johnny Carson episodes. They were the ones that really took chances, lowbrow and highbrow. Shows that had at something at stake creatively, not just financially, even if they were messy. Especially plays such as Debbie Loves Bumblebee, The Apricot Tree, Brainstorm, Parasocial and Baxter's bonkers production. Most of which, for me, point in one way or another to throughlines between the wild theatre of modernism and the fringe and the chaotic DIY culture that proliferates online today. Shows that might also help to bridge the generational gap where live theatre is concerned, drawing in more young people to a festival that, let's be honest, skews towards an older audience. There's a couple of days left of the festival, and I hope more audiences take chances on the fringiest of Fringe shows — especially if me or my colleagues have panned them. — Conrad SweatmanReporter Conrad Sweatman is an arts reporter and feature writer. Before joining the Free Press full-time in 2024, he worked in the U.K. and Canadian cultural sectors, freelanced for outlets including The Walrus, VICE and Prairie Fire. Read more about Conrad. Our newsroom depends on a growing audience of readers to power our journalism. If you are not a paid reader, please consider becoming a subscriber. Our newsroom depends on its audience of readers to power our journalism. Thank you for your support.


The Province
2 days ago
- The Province
Notorious French singer faces new probe over ex-wife's death
Bertrand Cantat, former singer with 1980s rock band Noir Desir, was the subject of a three-part Netflix documentary Published Jul 25, 2025 • 2 minute read Bertrand Cantat, former singer with popular 1980s rock band Noir Desir ("Black Desire"). Photo by XAVIER LEOTY / AFP/File BORDEAUX — A notorious French singer who beat his girlfriend to death is to face a new legal investigation over the suicide of his ex-wife following a Netflix documentary about his violent behaviour, prosecutors said Thursday. This advertisement has not loaded yet, but your article continues below. THIS CONTENT IS RESERVED FOR SUBSCRIBERS ONLY Subscribe now to read the latest news in your city and across Canada. Exclusive articles by top sports columnists Patrick Johnston, Ben Kuzma, J.J. Abrams and others. Plus, Canucks Report, Sports and Headline News newsletters and events. Unlimited online access to The Province and 15 news sites with one account. The Province ePaper, an electronic replica of the print edition to view on any device, share and comment on. Daily puzzles and comics, including the New York Times Crossword. Support local journalism. SUBSCRIBE TO UNLOCK MORE ARTICLES Subscribe now to read the latest news in your city and across Canada. Exclusive articles by top sports columnists Patrick Johnston, Ben Kuzma, J.J. Abrams and others. Plus, Canucks Report, Sports and Headline News newsletters and events. Unlimited online access to The Province and 15 news sites with one account. The Province ePaper, an electronic replica of the print edition to view on any device, share and comment on. Daily puzzles and comics, including the New York Times Crossword. Support local journalism. REGISTER / SIGN IN TO UNLOCK MORE ARTICLES Create an account or sign in to continue with your reading experience. Access articles from across Canada with one account. Share your thoughts and join the conversation in the comments. Enjoy additional articles per month. Get email updates from your favourite authors. THIS ARTICLE IS FREE TO READ REGISTER TO UNLOCK. Create an account or sign in to continue with your reading experience. Access articles from across Canada with one account Share your thoughts and join the conversation in the comments Enjoy additional articles per month Get email updates from your favourite authors Bertrand Cantat, former singer with popular 1980s rock band Noir Desir ('Black Desire'), was the subject of a widely watched three-part Netflix documentary that aired from March this year. He was sentenced to prison over the killing of actress Marie Trintignant in a Vilnius hotel room in 2003, but worked and performed after being released despite protests and calls for a boycott. Prosecutors in Cantat's hometown Bordeaux said in a statement Thursday they were looking into 'potential acts of intentional violence' against his ex-wife Krisztina Rady, who was found hanged at her home in 2010. Prosecutors will look into 'several claims and testimonies not included' in four previous investigations into the circumstances of Rady's death, all of which were closed without charges, the statement said. Essential reading for hockey fans who eat, sleep, Canucks, repeat. By signing up you consent to receive the above newsletter from Postmedia Network Inc. Please try again This advertisement has not loaded yet, but your article continues below. In 'The Cantat Case' on Netflix, a nurse claims that Rady visited a hospital in Bordeaux 'following an altercation with her partner, a violent argument' which had resulted in a 'scalp detachment and bruises.' The nurse said he consulted her hospital file out of 'curiosity' in the archives of a hospital in the city where he was a temporary worker. Rady, a Hungarian-born former interpreter, had also left a terrorised message on her parents' answering machine before her death. In it, she referred to violence by Cantat, the documentary and a 2013 book written by two French journalists claimed. Bertrand Cantat's lawyer, Antonin Levy, said he was not aware of the reopening of an investigation into the case when contacted by AFP. This advertisement has not loaded yet, but your article continues below. After being released from jail in 2007, the Bordeaux singer worked on a new album and toured with the band Detroit. His case sparked fierce debate, with many fans prepared to pardon his criminal record and seeing him as someone who had served out his punishment behind bars — four years out of an eight-year sentence. Women's rights campaigners viewed him as a symbol of violent misogyny, even more so after the death of Rady in 2010. The release of his first solo album 'Amor Fati' in 2017 sparked more controversy in the midst of the #MeToo movement, which saw women around the world speak out more forcefully about domestic violence and sexual assault. It led to several of Cantat's concerts being cancelled and protests from feminist organisations. At a major concert at the Zenith venue in northeast Paris in 2018 attended by thousands of fans, Cantat targeted journalists saying 'I have nothing against you, you have something against me… I couldn't give less of a shit.' Love concerts, but can't make it to the venue? Stream live shows and events from your couch with VEEPS, a music-first streaming service now operating in Canada. Click here for an introductory offer of 30% off. Explore upcoming concerts and the extensive archive of past performances. Vancouver Whitecaps Local News Vancouver Canucks Hockey Soccer


Vancouver Sun
2 days ago
- Vancouver Sun
Happy Gilmore 2: Adam Sandler, Julie Bowen and Christopher McDonald tee up in sequel
Nearly three decades after audiences first met Happy Gilmore and his outlandish golf antics in the 1996 film, iconic trio Adam Sandler, Julie Bowen and Christopher McDonald are reuniting for Happy Gilmore 2 . The film sees the return of several of the original cast members and the entire creative team, along with new faces like Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio (aka Bad Bunny), Eric André, Margaret Qualley and Benny Safdie. In a recent interview with National Post, Sandler reflected on the enduring legacy of the original film and shared insights into revisiting the iconic characters after 29 years in the highly anticipated Netflix sequel. For Sandler, the return to the Happy Gilmore universe aligns with his personal life. When asked about parallels between his journey and the film's evolution, Sandler pointed directly to fatherhood. 'Having kids, making it all about the kids, thinking about them first, maybe that,' he mused, highlighting how his priorities have shifted, much like his character over 29 years. The role of his on-screen daughter is played by his own daughter Sunny Sandler, and his other daughter Sadie Sandler also stars in the movie as does his wife Jackie Sandler. Get top headlines and gossip from the world of celebrity and entertainment. By signing up you consent to receive the above newsletter from Postmedia Network Inc. A welcome email is on its way. If you don't see it, please check your junk folder. The next issue of Sun Spots will soon be in your inbox. Please try again Interested in more newsletters? Browse here. Happy Gilmore 2 , which streams on Netflix Friday, picks up nearly 30 years after Happy Gilmore (Sandler) famously won the Tour Championship. Happy has retired from the sport and is now a family man and father to four kids. Happy realizes he has to return to competitive golf to pay the tuition for his daughter Vienna's (Sunny Sandler) ballet school. The film is neatly stacked with several cameos and winks to the original classic, which will delight many fans and sure to draw in new audiences too. The decision to make Happy Gilmore 2 was rooted in the creative possibilities that nearly three decades offered. Sandler explained the non-negotiable element was simply having 'a lot of stories to think about what could happen, what went on with these people's lives.' As a co-writer on the film, he and Tim Herlihy found joy in imagining the characters' journeys. Adam, I read that there were a lot of things that you and Tim were going through that were added in the movie. So what are some parallels that you saw with Happy 29 years later? Adam: I guess having kids, making it all about the kids, thinking about them first, maybe that. Julie, how was it revisiting an iconic character after three decades? Julie: Thank god we didn't have to be 30 years ago. I mean, they kept throwing babies at me and then more babies and then more babies. And it's been a while since my kids were babies. But once you're with kids, you just don't even have to act. Adam: You always make them comfortable even when they were crying a little bit. Julie: You definitely have to do a little bit more work, but it's good work. I love doing that work. It was very easy. I did not have to pretend that I was 23 and single in that way. It was still in my comfort zone. Christopher, Shooter McGavin is an iconic character. You've always said that this movie is the gift that keeps on giving. Is there something that got to do this time around that you always wanted to do? Christopher: That's a good question. Yes, it is the gift that keeps on giving. I'm glad we're here at this moment because it's coming out really soon. It's something I've been praying for and been an ambassador for years. I feel there's only two ways to go with Shooter McGavin, and I don't know wanna give any thing Sure. I took a different trajectory. I think that's a fair thing to say. Adam: Shooter's chipping away, man. Christopher: And that was awesome. One of my favorite moments of the new movie and just being around all these people and making friends. Adam: Jack Nicklaus did an impression of you. Christopher: That was cool. Adam, what was the absolute non-negotiable in order to make this movie happen today? Adam: It was kind of like everything 30 years later, you had a lot of stories to think about what could happen, what went on with these people's lives and just imagining what the hell they've been through and it couldn't have been more exciting as a writer. Me and Tim Hurley would sit and we would just laugh and say maybe this happened or this happened, and Shooter's storyline was extra funny. And, Julie and I had a nice love story that we enjoyed writing about and thinking about and stuff like that. Adam, you were 30 when you wrote and started in the original. So how have you reflected on that time period of your life and being a comedic actor/ writer then and now? Adam: Well, I think that probably the thing I thought about most was that when I shot the original, I weighed 178. Not anymore (laughs). That was fun, though. Christopher: 188 now. Adam: 188? I'd be so excited. Jeez. What's the one thing each of you kept from the original Happy Gilmore set or wished you could have kept? Adam: Lifetime pass to Subway. I kept that card. Christopher: Did you use it? Adam: They say no. I walk in and say that'd be $8, please. (Laughs) Julie: I don't know that I actually kept anything physical. I wanted the crocodile, the alligator. I have some great pictures of me lying on top of that. It looks very real. So I do have a lot of pictures that I took back then because I had an actual camera, not a phone camera. I don't think I actually took anything, but you were complimenting Perry Blake, who was the designer for both movies — 30 years ago and all Adam Sandler movies. I would have taken Chubbs' hand. We'd have to send it around like the Stanley cup so everybody can have it. Christopher: It stuck out so far. It was a side gag from day one. They were nice enough to let me take my clubs, but then the sandman gave me the driver. Now this driver was a Wilson. To this day, I still have it and I hit it like a bomb. So thank you again for that [to Sandler]. The clubs are insanely beautiful and they're a classic. One of my favorite things in the film is the running gag of the many different items turned into things into flasks that we see Happy Gilmore using. Adam : That's funny, man. We wrote that stuff and then the props department, Tim, he's been doing our movies forever and he just would say, what about this? And show us something funny and that made sense. Christopher: I laughed so hard when you'd take the top off the pepper shaker [acts like sipping from the cup]. Happy Gilmore 2 streams on Netflix on Friday