Fast and Furious 6 // DVD Review
This is the part Vin Diesel was born to play, not because of his thespian skills, but because he’s almost named after van fuel.
OK. Let’s get one thing straight: I am NOT the intended audience for this film. I think cars are functional, I don’t think guns are innately cool, I haven’t seen the first five, and I’m pretty blasé about the hair on my balls. Basically, I’m not a teenage boy.
In fact, FnF6 is itself very much like a teenaged manchild. It’s vulgar, it’s casually misogynistic, it communicates entirely by grunting and it spends far too much time playing with its equipment. Unfortunately, the one teenage trait FnF6 lacks is self-conciousness, and I just can’t stomach this much overblown and spectacular nonsense without some sort of knowing wink. Indeed, the only hint of irony here is the fact that, in a film which is obsessed by cars, the supporting actor is called Paul Walker.
And support he must as the star of the show is Vin Diesel. This is the part he was born to play, not because of his thespian skills – watching him act is like watching a trout digest a sausage – but because he’s almost named after van fuel, and until someone called Cor Petrol or Motorbuke Superunleaded take up acting his gig is safe.
So, to summarise: If you like films with discernable characters, dialogue that doesn’t sound like it was written by throwing alphabetti spaghetti at a moving target, action scenes that don’t make you slap your own face, and a cogent plot, you should avoid this. On the other hand, if you’ve spent ten hours of your short life watching the first five FnFs and the rest of it wanking into a sock, knock yourself out.
