Three laps. Three laps is a life time.
Joseph Kosinski’s F1 is why we go to the movies. Full stop.
After Top Gun: Maverick, one of the best and most beloved theatrical experiences of the century, Kosinski had a ridiculous bar to clear—and somehow, F1 isn’t just a worthy follow-up, it’s a full-throttle reminder of what movie magic really is.
Brad Pitt stars as Sonny Hayes, a former hothead F1 prodigy who flamed out, did a stint in NASCAR, dabbled in gambling, and now lives somewhere between legend and burnout. When his old friend Reuben (played perfectly by Javier Bardem) asks him to drive for a new F1 team on the verge of collapse, Sonny reluctantly returns to the sport that made him famous. The only shot at saving the team? Getting at least one win in the final nine races of the season. No pressure.
The team pairs Sonny with a rising star: Joshua Prince, aka “JP,” played by Damson Idris in a breakout performance. JP is brash, cocky, and electric—a mirror of Sonny’s younger self. The two don’t like each other. Of course they don’t. That’s the whole point. And yet, like all great sports films, the respect has to be earned—and when it comes, it lands.
Kerry Condon, as Kate, the team’s brilliant car engineer (and the only woman in her position on the grid), brings fierce intelligence, grit, and—yes—one of the best accents in movie history. Like, seriously. I could listen to her talk torque ratios and downforce all day. Her chemistry with Pitt is subtle but real, and her character never feels like a trope—she’s central to the soul of the team.
Let’s talk about the racing. My God. Just like the dogfights in Top Gun: Maverick, the race sequences in F1 are edge-of-your-seat, white-knuckle filmmaking. You feel every gear shift. Every collision. Every roar of the engine. It’s breathtaking. Kosinski, again, proves he’s not just directing—he’s orchestrating spectacle. Five separate race sequences, each uniquely composed, each worth the price of admission alone.
And the commitment is real. Brad Pitt and Damson Idris are behind the wheel. Real drivers like Lewis Hamilton show up. The realism is off the charts. Kosinski doesn’t do half-measures—and you feel that in every frame.
Sure, F1 leans into classic sports movie tropes—mentor and protégé, underdog team, comeback arcs—but here’s the thing: they work. And they work because Brad Pitt gives a movie star performance. Not a character actor thing. Not a “I lost 40 pounds for the role” thing. He shows up, he’s Brad Pitt, and he reminds us why that used to mean something. It still does.
There’s a lot of talk about the death of the movie star. But Pitt, Cruise, Leo—they’re keeping the torch burning. And F1 is proof. It makes you wonder: who’s next? Maybe Chalamet. Maybe Pattinson. Maybe Damson Idris.
The only real misfire in F1 is the soundtrack. Hans Zimmer’s score is phenomenal—as expected—but the movie shoehorns in a scattershot lineup of pop tracks, most likely to flex Apple’s roster of rising artists. The first song hits. The rest… not so much. It feels like a studio note that undercuts what could’ve been a wall-to-wall Zimmer triumph.
Still, when the final race hits, and the music fades, and you’re gripping your seat wondering how this team is going to pull off the impossible? That’s cinema. That’s the reason you sit in a dark room with strangers, popcorn in hand, soda at your side, heart racing.
F1 won’t make Top Gun: Maverick money, but it doesn’t have to. This has word of mouth hit written all over it. People are going to walk out of this and immediately text everyone they know: “You gotta see this.”
Kosinski has conquered the air. He’s conquered the track. Maybe he takes on the sea next—Crimson Tide 2, anyone? Either way, this man understands what blockbuster filmmaking is supposed to feel like.
Couldn’t recommend this movie more.
F1: The Movie = 91/100
