Speeding onto the big screen, F1 seeks to do for cars what Top Gun: Maverick did for planes. It comes with an aging star, beloved in the 90s and seemingly immune from some of the quirks that surround them. Its narrative is a similar old-pro-returns-to-show-the-younglings-how-to-do-it. And it is at its best when strapping itself, camera and all, into some of the fastest vehicles ever conceived.

It’s arguable that, outside of Barbenheimer, Top Gun: Maverick has been the finest blockbuster since the outbreak of COVID. And while there’s much to admire in F1, it rarely reaches what Maverick had. It’s less introspective, of its star and of the entire endeavor of cinema itself. It is, often a terrific time, particularly when the wheels hit the road and it lets the technical prowess talk. Much of the technical team have been brought over from Maverick. Joseph Kosinski directs, Hans Zimmer scores, Claudio Miranda shoots, Ehran Kruger writes. But the absence of two figures is felt here. As well as Kruger, Christopher McQuarrie co-wrote Maverick and his fingerprints can be felt both with the simplicity of that film’s mission and its approach to its central star. And the final piece of the puzzle that feels missing is Tom Cruise himself. Brad Pitt is a fine figure to hang F1 on, he’s a good actor and a charismatic screen presence. But there was something to be said about Maverick being a fascinating deconstruction of a ubiquitous figure of cinema, arguably the last true star.

Truly the star here are the cars. And my goodness it’s thrilling to watch hurtle around the various tracks F1 travels to. The real-life sport has always felt a might dull to this reviewer. But here it feels transcendent and propulsive, with a final race that is for the ages. The reported budget of this film is huge and so much of it is on the big screen, with Kosinski and Miranda going as far as to create new cameras and techniques to capture these moments. Whatever cliches the narrative uses, it really doesn’t matter as you will feel the need for speed from the moment F1 unleashes its full force.

Outside of Pitt, who swaggers and charms his way through the film, the ensemble are mostly short-changed with roles beneath their prowess. Often their characterization will change between scenes. But one can’t deny the likeability of Damson Idris, Javier Barden and Kerry Condon. They all scaffold the action well. You just wish the script could match the action it’s setting up.

But this is a film about driving. And that’s the brilliance of F1, a successful advertising campaign for a sport that feels mostly elusive in the real world. You won’t ever see a race like this in real life and if you want even more racing action might I point you to the documentary Senna. It’s a film that grapples with the sport’s legacy, warts and all, as well as seeking to understand one of the great figures of it whose life was lived and ended on the race course. And that’s what this all comes down to – the cars, the burning rubber, the sense that a split-second decision can prove fatal. Or it could give Sonny and his fellow drivers the feeling they so crave. And for that, F1 is a compelling argument, mounted in the language of pure cinema.