The Fast & the Furious, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Franchise
The last movies I ever expected to love were those ridiculous The Fast & the Furious flicks. Meathead street racer nonsense starring silly actors doing silly things in silly suped up cars as annoying as the ones that buzz around at 1am being far louder than a little lime green import has any right to be? Ugh. No. Several friends kept insisting the series was secretly amazing, though, a bunch of movies that were more like comic books come to life than, say, the latest Batman or Superman movie or Caligula. Okay, okay, fine. Facing some empty late nights and some bags of chips that needed eating, I figured I’d marathon the movies. Figured they’d at least give me something to do when trying to shut down…
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