Furious 7

Deliberately gleeful stupidity.

The evolution of The Fast and the Furious from a nu-metal laced street racing film to a billion-dollar action blockbuster series has been astounding. Even more profound: the dedication of its cast and crew to this world. Writer Chris Morgan’s comic book-style mythology, culminating in this film, led Vin Diesel to proclaim that Furious 7 should win an Academy Award. And on the day they give out Oscars for ‘Most Absurd Car Stunt’, this will be a shoo-in.

As teased in the closing credits of the last film, Furious 7 sees Deckard Shaw (Jason Statham) out for revenge on Dom (Vin Diesel) for putting his brother in a coma. Eye for an eye logic results in him targeting Dom’s family — Han (Sung Kang) is the first of what will be many victims. Dom soon discovers Deckard acts like a ghost; untraceable unless he wants to be found. So he strikes a deal with a team of covert operatives, in which if his crew complete a rescue mission, they will obtain access to an intrusive computer program known as God’s Eye to locate Deckard.

(Just ignore how Deckard interferes in every action scene, meaning our heroes could’ve easily found him if they simply arranged some kind of incidental high-octane, whacky hijinks.)

Meanwhile, Brian (the late Paul Walker) finds himself torn between his newfound domesticated lifestyle and the death-defying adventures that once defined him; Luke Hobbs (Dwayne Johnson) spends most of the film laid up in hospital after an explosion until he miraculously recuperates for the final action sequence; and Letty Ortiz (Michelle Rodriguez) continues to suffer from amnesia following her death in the fourth film, and her improbable return in the sixth ripped straight from The Truman Show:

Mike Michaelson: [about Truman’s father] But how do you intend to explain his 22-year absence?
Christof: Amnesia.
Mike Michaelson: Brilliant.

The Furious series struggled to find its voice for a long while, hanging onto the street racing and gang warfare elements long past their expiry date. It only became a pop-culture juggernaut when the fifth film embraced a superhero mentality. The series now imagines what if the likes of Superman, Batman, and Spider-Man saved the world while exclusively driving muscle cars. The plane sequence in Furious 6 typified this new outlook: physics and the lengths of runways were ignored in favour of bombast. To dissect its parts for any deeper meaning, or even logic, would do a massive disservice to its deliberately gleeful stupidity.

Furious 7 features more of the same, while placing its tongue further into its cheek. This instalment has the cars parachute from miles in the air, jump between skyscrapers in Abu Dhabi, smash into art exhibits, drive off cliffs and bridges, and ram into each other at speeds even characters in a JG Ballard novel would find grotesque. Chris Morgan mentioned in an interview that they always try to top the stunts done before without resorting to gimmickry such as going into space, and once again they achieve their goal.

But it’s the knowing melodrama of the subplots that makes Furious 7 hellishly entertaining. The amnesia storyline plays out like a Spanish soap opera — the twinkling acoustic guitar soundtrack as Vin Diesel and Michelle Rodriguez ham their way through a scene in a graveyard adds to the cheesiness. Yet, contrast to the moments of genuine emotion, especially near the end when they send-off Paul Walker in a heart-wrenching manner, and one realises the cast and crew involved are in control at all times. Playing these sequence straight would go against its exploitative, ‘what Robert Rodriguez would be making if he hadn’t pissed off the Directors Guild’ roots.

And therein lies the charm of the Fast and Furious series. It’s refreshing to witness a big summer franchise not take itself so seriously, and this likely explains the critical acclaim Furious 7 has received. We live in a time where even the new Jurassic Park film is trialled to resemble a darkly-coloured dirge. What happened to the days of fun? What happened to the Big Trouble in Little Chinas; stories that only work on celluloid because of their outlandish, illogical, proudly lowbrow nature?

Thankfully they still exist, but in car form.