Nominating this popcorn trifle for greatest image is foolish, however a minimum of it didn’t get a screenplay nod for a script that’s merely: See Brad Pitt go, go, go. Nonetheless, I’ll admit that I beneficial this rumbler to everybody who needed an excuse to hurry to the multiplex. (I elbowed my uncle, a hobbyist racer, to go see it a half-dozen instances.) Not as soon as in ‘F1’ does it really feel like we’re invested in Pitt’s bizarrely constructed character, a throwback fossil with jokey Gen-Z tattoos. The film is fueled by pure star energy and you’ll’t fault Oscar voters for huffing its fumes.
