Arnold deserved a better plot
son), an English badass (Jason Statham) and the AfricanAmerican motormouth (Tyrese Gibson), to marshal their collective skills and ensure the survival of the human race.
Typically loud, long (two hours plus change) and abrasive, F&F 8 is a lot of fun despite all its limitations.
One could punch enough holes in the flimsy plot for an SUV to drive through. But the computer-generated car-nage keeps the viewer engaged.
From the shores of the Cuban capital to the alleyways of Manhattan and the ice-glazed coastline of Siberia, the testosteronedriven stunts are expertly staged. It must be said that some of the CGI fails dreadfully, especially the sequence where cars (so obviously toy models) plummet from high-rise parking garages into oncoming New York City traffic.
On the other hand, the latest instalment is arguably the funniest in the franchise, with abundant repartee and an adorable infant who turns into a total scene-stealer in the last act.
Old-timer Kurt Russell in the role of a bemused law-enforcement official, newcomers Scott Eastwood (Clint’s eldest son) as his rookie deputy, and the redoubtable Helen Mirren as a resourceful mother add immensely too.
Fasten your seat belts and get set for a bumpy ride.
In 2002, all passengers died following a mid-air collision between two planes over German airspace. Aftermath is loosely based on this real-life tragedy, and casts Arnold Schwarzenegger as a construction foreman who has lost his wife and daughter in the accident.
With none of his usual flexing of muscles, the septuagenarian actor strives to stretch his dramatic abilities to play a distraught family man compelled to take matters into his own huge hands. He turns down the compensation offered by the airline and goes into vengeance mode. Meanwhile, the air traffic controller (Scoot McNairy), who was on duty at the time, is reduced to a guilt-ridden bundle of nerves.
As would be expected, the eventual confrontation between the two leads to further tragedy. While unraveling the conflict at a fairly rapid clip, director Elliott Lester indulges in far too many artsy slo-mos. Arnold and McNairy contribute credible performances, but both deserved better than this unmoving tale.