After a stint robbing oil trucks in the Dominican Republic with his girlfriend Letty (Rodriguez), Dominic (Diesel) has a sojourn in Panama before returning to see his sister Mia (Brewster) in Los Angeles, where Letty has just been killed. He tracks the murder to a gang that transports drugs from Mexico in souped-up street-racers (natch!). Meanwhile, his old pal/nemesis Brian (Walker) is an FBI agent on the trail of the same gang, and they find themselves facing off--and working together--all over again.

Even taking into consideration the law of diminishing sequel intelligence, this film is amazing. From the bonkers opening heist (Michael Bay would be so proud!) to Jason Bourne-style Parkour across the rooftops of Koreatown, this film feels like a series of familiar set pieces strung together by a script designed to let guys drive cars super fast, blow things up and watch near-naked girls kiss each other. And the plot points play more like comedy bits ("We only have 72 hours to solve this case we've been working on for 10 years!").

Diesel and Walker essentially fal back on their old musclehead and plank of wood performance styles, respectively. Brewster has nothing to do besides pout on cue, while Rodriguez gets one whopping stunt sequence before fleeing from the franchise. And then there's the array of random thugs and goofballs who fill in the edges. Everyone seems to be having a great time, and it's slightly annoying that this is completely infectious.

It's so mind-achingly dim-witted that you can't help but laugh. Each adrenaline-pounding action set-piece makes no sense by any stretch of the imagination, but they still manage to get the pulse racing, including the race that plays out on a corny GPS screen like a videogame. And in the end, the hilarious moralising ("Nothing really matters unless you have a code!") only makes us smile. Because the film's real message is this: Why roll your window down when you can smash it with your elbow?

themes, violence, language

6.Apr.09