It's hard to know where to begin to review this movie. At first glance it's harmless enough, but there was a lot about it that annoyed me. So rather than waste a lot of time analysing the merits (or lack thereof) of this film I'll be flippant with the following comments:
Things this movie taught me:
1. Young race car drivers are, apparently, so immature as to think that a couple of drinks with a pretty girl means that she wants to have their babies and are willing to get into fisticuffs to protect their (entirely imagined) relationship.
2. If a driver is injured he doesn't need to see a trained physician to certify him race fit. All he needs to do is hop up and down on a busted ankle for the gratification of his sado-masochistic, wheelchair-bound boss.
3. If you're a naughty race-car driver you can drive your 200mph, non-street legal Indycar on public highways and the only consequence of this life-endangering stunt will be a small fine.
4. It is also perfectly acceptable to spin your race car 180 degrees and drive the wrong way around the race track, endangering other drivers, so long as you're doing it to save a friend from a horrible (but well deserved) flaming death.
5. Wives, girlfriends and brothers of race drivers (or just about anyone who knows them) can not only stand in the team control booth in a self-important manner, but also give orders to the drivers as if they were the team boss.
6. Tyres that come off cars in accidents can fly hundreds of feet into the air, go over the safety fence, and fall amongst the crowd. But don't worry. So long as you aren't hit when it lands you are safe. Rubber tyres apparently don't bounce at all when hitting concrete bleachers.
All in all then, this movie is less than impressive. On a scale of 1 to rancid this film gets a solid 4 and a half lard blocks (most of the lard was on Burt Reynolds - will he never give up?)
Not worth the effort.
Things this movie taught me:
1. Young race car drivers are, apparently, so immature as to think that a couple of drinks with a pretty girl means that she wants to have their babies and are willing to get into fisticuffs to protect their (entirely imagined) relationship.
2. If a driver is injured he doesn't need to see a trained physician to certify him race fit. All he needs to do is hop up and down on a busted ankle for the gratification of his sado-masochistic, wheelchair-bound boss.
3. If you're a naughty race-car driver you can drive your 200mph, non-street legal Indycar on public highways and the only consequence of this life-endangering stunt will be a small fine.
4. It is also perfectly acceptable to spin your race car 180 degrees and drive the wrong way around the race track, endangering other drivers, so long as you're doing it to save a friend from a horrible (but well deserved) flaming death.
5. Wives, girlfriends and brothers of race drivers (or just about anyone who knows them) can not only stand in the team control booth in a self-important manner, but also give orders to the drivers as if they were the team boss.
6. Tyres that come off cars in accidents can fly hundreds of feet into the air, go over the safety fence, and fall amongst the crowd. But don't worry. So long as you aren't hit when it lands you are safe. Rubber tyres apparently don't bounce at all when hitting concrete bleachers.
All in all then, this movie is less than impressive. On a scale of 1 to rancid this film gets a solid 4 and a half lard blocks (most of the lard was on Burt Reynolds - will he never give up?)
Not worth the effort.