Critic Reviews

It offers an attractive getaway route from self-importance, snark, and chatty comedies about male bonding. Here, stick shifts do the talking.

Fast & Furious is the first film since the original to be smart about how far to stretch logic without sacrificing the desired macho swagger and revved-up emotions.

Fast & Furious is, in a very bizarre way, a thing of gasp-inducing artistry to watch, even if you're not a member of the NASCAR, gear-head, street-racing crowd.

The reunion is fun and frantic, like the original on double nitro.

Succeeds because the action is supercharged in a style that recalls Mel Gibson's apocalyptic classic, "The Road Warrior." The characters are more than cartoonish, and the plot grips the road. But it's Diesel who provides the nitro injection

It sticks to what the series does best, mixing souped-up cars with corny jokes.

No matter what, it's safe to say that this entirely acceptable retooling of the franchise makes for a satisfying experience for those who enjoy four-wheeled chases, hot bodies, hot cars, and a tall dose of tough-guy machismo.

I hope the producers bring Lin back for the fifth film and strip it down even more. They can lose all the human characters except Brian and Mia and simply call it F&F.

The car-nage that ensues is confined to a maze of underground tunnels, too dark and claustrophobic a setting to appreciate stunt scenes already made hard to follow by the epileptic editing.

The action scenes don't always get the balance between flash and danger right, but the movie remains agreeably dopey--presenting street-racing culture as a hotbed of colorful stereotypes and lipstick lesbianism--until a climax that just isn't there.