Film: F1 (2025)
Screenplay by: Ehren Kruger
Directed by: Joseph Kosinski
Starring: Damson Idris, Javier Bardem, Brad Pitt, Sarah Niles, Kerry Condon
Dear F1 Movie Filmmakers (Joseph Kosinski) and your boyfriends,
Who the heck are you? What are you doing in the movie industry? Have you ever read a story before, and learned how to write a story?
You got Brad Pitt to be in your movie, and that’s a pretty big deal. I went to this F1 movie to see 2+ hours of Brad Pitt. I was all-in for the pull-ups and the bare chest and the tattoos and the “badass” behavior. But it is so clear that Brad is not convinced you are worth your salt, or that this movie was worth doing. He just signed a contract and I guess he needed the money. (He has a bunch of kids who probably need facials.)
Also, do you think a movie is just a playground wherein you put guys in fast cars and add some Led Zeppelin music, and show people going fast in cars, but you do not need a story? You would debase good actors by giving them a script that doesn’t have a story? A script that is instead all about posturing and looking good/bad rather than developing and depicting the complexity of human beings involved in a sport, or a business? Furthermore, did Elon Musk fund your campaign? I was really feeling like we were seeing some shots at the end where you’re trying to make Brad look like Elon Musk, or maybe it’s just that there is this cap-fashion-trend going around, and maybe even Botox for men. I don’t know. (I don’t know if Brad has gotten Botox but if he has, he has handled it well and he still looks damn good. He just deserves better treatment from a director.)
You got these big actors in this film—Javier Bardem and Brad Pitt—but they don’t believe in it. That is so clear. You didn’t give them enough to work with. They’re just phoning it in. They couldn’t find any depth in the characters because it is so obvious you are just trying to mimic Oceans 11 or Oceans 12 or whatever the heck is another Oceans movie. The only thing missing was George Clooney, but George Clooney probably would have said, “I have no time for such nonsense movies.” Leo DiCaprio wouldn’t have done your movie, either. Brad, though—I think Brad did it because he has kids and he’s a little more adventurous and he wanted to give it a try. (But Brad, call me. We can fix up something way better for you, I promise.)
The best actor in this film is Damson Idris, who plays Joshua, the other high-priority F1 team member. He’s the only one who was able to find it in him to believe in this story. Sarah Niles plays his mom, Bernadette, and she’s the other best performer in this film. I really hope this film gets these two actors more roles that serve a higher purpose, like a film that helps people understand the human condition a little more. This film just feels like a magazine for racing cars that someone hodge-podged into a film, without an editor.
Hey, I’m not perfect. I make mistakes, too. I take big leaps of faith and I try new things, and I step backwards before I step forwards and whatnot. I am not saying you are bad people, I am just saying this movie is a dreadful disappointment. And it is making me wonder what is happening more largely in the culture of America and beyond, because we need to better understand the American male (and in general, what we believe is masculinity), so we can find truth when we spend over 2 hours watching a big-budget actor and producer fake it on screen. Instead, I just thought you could have replaced Brad Pitt with Matt Damon and it would have been the same dog and pony show. (What is a dog and pony show? Why did I say that? I will have to google that phrase later and find out about its origins.)
The American Male: who is he? He’s complex, he’s layered. He’s not just white; he’s not necessarily religious, or belonging to a certain religion. Is he a cowboy? A sociopath? A politician? A musician? Is he a rabble-rouser, a poet, a driver of fast cars or motorcycles? Is he a dad?
I want to know him and feel him when I watch a film on the big screen, but you took a guy who could help us examine American masculinity and you gave him half-hearted words, no background or ground, and all badassery with no tears. Where are his tears? I need to see Brad Pitt cry to believe he’s an American car-racer. I need to see American men cry to know they are human, and I want the movie industry to support it.
I can’t just blame you, Joseph Kosinski and Ehren Kruger. I think Hollywood has some big problems. Another Superman movie? Batman movies, Spiderman movies? I think your industry is really hurting, and we’re seeing its influence in government and politics. Everyone running things made of money, and to make money, seems to be acting from artificial intelligence rather than genuine intelligence. Do you want people to believe in what you’re doing and find themselves renewed or transformed, or do you just want them paying you some money and then conking out on their couches? I am really wondering.
Because money is great, but it seems like the people who have it and try to make more of it are just getting bored with it. There was such a lack of imagination in this plot and performance, but I am sure it cost a lot of money.
Hold on a minute—I am going to find out how much it cost to make this shenanigan you call a movie. Be right back….
300 million to make the movie. Dear Heavens above. There are starving children, yet these dudes watching a ton of pornography and dulling their brains are calling themselves filmmakers, and handling this much money to make junk. I am getting sad now. I am feeling really sad.
Well, hmm.
Masculinity. The Rugged American Male.
I am reading John Steinbeck this summer, and Travels with Charley: In Search of America is wonderful and amazing, and John Steinbeck is endearing and perspicacious and astute, and that book costs the same as a movie ticket.
This is a much better depiction of American masculinity, and I am just in love with this Steinbeck motha’f-uh. I want him sitting next to me eating jambalaya or something, and I want to just keep touching his arm and looking in his eyes, even if he is married. He is like a walking jambalaya, John Steinbeck is. He is like a delicious plate of chicken and collared greens and cornbread, but he uses words and he came out of a woman instead of a farm.
So let me share this quote from Travels with Charley and then be done with this writing, because apparently, one does not need to give too much care and attention to one’s writing anymore, in order to “hit it big.” One need only to know some other dudes in the film industry and to act like a robot and be all show and no substance to “make a lot of money.” So I am not even going to edit my writing much here, I’m so annoyed by what grotesque money-laundering has just transpired in theaters all across America.
Anyway, listen to this wonderful John and let us creators all do better, please:
A kind of second childhood falls on so many men. They trade their violence for the promise of a small increase of life span. In effect, the head of the house becomes the youngest child. And I have searched myself for this possibility with a kind of horror. For I have always lived violently, drunk hugely, eaten too much or not at all, slept around the clock or missed two nights of sleeping, worked too hard and too long in glory, or slobbed for a time in utter laziness. I’ve lifted, pulled, chopped, climbed, made love with joy and taken my hangovers as a consequence, not as a punishment. I did not want to surrender fierceness for a small gain in yardage. My wife married a man; I saw no reason why she should inherit a baby. I knew that ten or twelve thousand miles driving a truck, alone and unattended, over every kind of road, would be hard work, but to me it represented the antidote for the poison of the professional sick man. And in my own life I am not willing to trade quality for quantity. If this projected journey should prove too much then it was time to go anyway. I see too many men delay their exits with a sickly, slow reluctance to leave the stage. It’s bad theater as well as bad living. I am very fortunate in having a wife who likes being a woman, which means that she likes men, not elderly babies. (From the second page of Part Two)
When John says “violence,” he does not mean hurting others. He means being dangerous. And there are ways to be dangerous through intelligence that far surpass the danger of a weakened, insecure man hoarding weapons. (John Steinbeck lived at a time before school shootings, mind you.)
Men could use some discernment in what and where and how they choose to participate in money-laundering shows of falseness. Money cannot be your bottom line, because the whole movie of F1 reeks of people who just “did it for the money.” Except for Damson Idris, who did it for his future and the future of many others who need a space at the table and an open door. That’s why he was the only one who was able to make a character happen in this movie.
Cheer up, guys. There are so many kids who need you. You are still needed.
Hugs,
Ms. Wonderful
Saturday Digital Playlist is called “Dewd” on Spotify.
My book for my own son and the sons who need love—how to reimagine our concept of spiritual masculinity in a modern age, available now.
