F1 Review: Vroom Vroom Yawn

In motorsports, the truth is that the car depends on the pit crew. In racing flick F1, the whole film depends on Brad Pitt. If it wasn’t for his rough-hewn charisma, undeniable star power, and ability to emote even when buried under a jumpsuit and skull-crushing helmet, then this loud, dumb, dull movie would be revealed as the cinematic equivalent of drive time radio.

F1 is like KISS. It’s very good at what it does, but what it does is just being spectacular in a conventional, predictable way. Is that bad? No, but it’s the best example of utterly generic heavy rock you can imagine.

That’s no surprise, considering that F1 reunites director Joseph Kosinski with his Top Gun: Maverick cowriter Ehren Kruger, who is also legally culpable for not one but three Transformers movies. Not that the writing of F1 probably took them that long, since the story (co-credited to Kosinski) is basically that of Maverick only with new character names and a search-and-replace operation switching out “plane” for “race car.” You know how this song goes: Aging former hotshot, haunted by an accident, gets into a war of egos with a younger version of himself, only for them to become high-fiving bros once the young buck realizes the old bull still has some tricks up his sleeves. Also, there’s a technically competent love interest whose icy heart will be melted.

It is exactly the same story, only with the chest bumping dudeverse of the United States Navy Strike Fighter Tactics Instructor program replaced by the high-stakes, big-money world of Formula One racing. Former F1 driver Sonny Hayes (Pitt) has been out of the sport for three decades after an ugly smash but is pulled back in when his old friend (Bardem) needs a new second driver for his ailing team. His arrival causes immediate friction with rising star Joshua Pearce (Idris playing a part clearly inspired by real F1 champ and producer Lewis Hamilton). Can they win together or will they crash and burn?

When Hayes is challenged as to whether he’s too old for this, a list of names of drivers who were even older is rattled off, without mentioning that all those quinquagenarian were racing in the 1950s and most of them either failed to qualify or retired from the race. That may seem like an esoteric detail, but it’s the kind of fact that actual obsessive Formula 1 fans will know. They’ll be sat on their hands as constant exposition by unseen race commentators and, increasingly, onscreen characters guide newcomers through the action. Meanwhile, non-F1 audiences will be completely oblivious to the cavalcade of real-life figures in the sport.

This is, after all, made by F1 and for F1, and F1’s PR division probably loves it. That connection was essential for the incredible access to the pits and tracks Kosinski required, allowing cinematographer Claudio Miranda to give audiences the closest experience imaginable to being strapped to the front wing doing 200 mph down the back straight at Silverstone. Meanwhile the cast is given little to do other than grin and cheer and speed-read their lines. Kerry Condon is particularly ill-served as the first woman to become a team chief engineer, while Tobias Menzies may as well just wear a badge that says “treacherous corporate villain #1.”

The real engine that keeps the movie moving isn’t the cliched script or the spectacular race footage. It’s Pitt. F1 puts him in the same tradition as Paul Newman, who used 1968’s Winning to reverse his way into actual motorsports, or speed freak Steve McQueen, who got back into racing through 1971’s Le Mans. It also shows he’s a star of that magnitude. Without him, F1 would be spinning its wheels.

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This article appears in June 27 • 2025.