Death has been tamed in the realm of the Fast and the Furious, a universe where mortality is less of a concrete reality and more of a minor inconvenience. Explosions, vehicular disasters, bullets, and even cosmic escapades seem to have lost their lethal touch. Notably, Paul Walker’s Brian O’Conner, who we mourned back in 2013, has somehow cheated death’s finality to make posthumous cameos in four subsequent films. It’s an impressive work ethic that redefines the very essence of ‘life after death’. Why die when resurrection is but as plot contrivance away?

Fast X, the latest installment in this increasingly fantastical franchise, is an adrenaline-infused roller coaster ride that leaves the viewer feeling more nauseous and offput than genuinely exhilarated. Despite its truly eye-watering budget of $340 million – a figure greater than the GDP of at least three different island nations – it’s a borderline cinematic abomination that features laughably poor visual effects and an equally embarrassing script. The sheer fact that this film, with its PS3-esque graphics, ranks among the top five most expensive movies ever made is nothing short of scandalous.

Explosive, globe-trotting set pieces, which should be a visual feast for action enthusiasts, instead resemble a smorgasbord of dated graphics and tired set piece antics. A sizable chunk of the budget was allocated to accommodating the vast cast, but this investment too seems far from a payoff. The film is so overpopulated with characters—most of whom are as one-dimensional as a line on a page or a single defining trait—that some actors have merely blink-and-you’ll-miss-it appearances, despite their faces being plastered across promotional materials. There’s Diesel, Michelle Rodriguez, Tyrese Gibson, Chris “Ludacris” Bridges, Nathalie Emmanuel, Jordana Brewster, Sung Kang, Jason Statham, Scott Eastwood, Helen Mirren, Charlize Theron, John Cena (in a total different – though more enjoyable – turn this time around), as well as Brie Larson, and Rita Moreno for some reason. It’s reminiscent of Wes Anderson’s ensemble films, albeit without the nuanced writing or charm.

The grand puppeteer of this hot mess is none other than Vin Diesel, or as he’s known in this sequel, “St. Dominic.” Fast X is essentially a shrine to the unchecked ego of this one man and his stranglehold on the the franchise. The narrative positions him as both a selfless hero and an unparalleled badass, with Brian Tyler’s score practically groveling at his feet, pleading with the audience to recognize this monosyllabic muscleman as the divine incarnation of humanity. All hail St. Dominic, this universe’s family-obsessed Christ incarnate.

After some behind-the-scenes drama, industry veteran Louis Leterrier (The Incredible Hulk, Clash of the Titans) assumed the director’s chair, taking over from longtime franchise supervisor Justin Lin due to, ahem, ‘creative differences’. This is not a first for the franchise, which has a history of losing talent due to similar issues and BTS in-fighting. Many accusations have been lodged at Diesel and his domineering personality on set, most notably with the ongoing beef between him and Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. Leterrier’s direction could be best described as nondescript and aimless. His lack of direction is glaringly evident, with a narrative that lacks focus, action sequences that lack cohesion, and an overall vision for the movie that seems haphazard at best. This isn’t even to comment on the fact that Fast X is in fact not a complete story, despite being nearly two-and-a-half hours of movie.

One can’t help but wonder how different Fast X could have been under the direction of a more capable, or perhaps more committed, director – or just one trying to make a name for themselves in this universe. but at this point, it’s hard to imagine the franchise finding any footing again before finally driving off into the sunset. Especially when this is the best they can muster with such an offensively greedy budget.

In Fast X, Dominic Toretto finds himself defending his crew and family from Dante Reyes (Jason Momoa), the scion of a powerful drug lord hell-bent on avenging the loss of his father and family fortune. This is the result of our heroes’ Rio de Janeiro heist as witnessed in Fast Five, back when the series was just discovering that it was allowed to be good. The plot, while ostensibly passable on paper, quickly devolves into a convoluted mess of over-the-top action sequences, contrived plot twists, weirdly useless cameos, more characters being reincarnated from the great beyond, and a few dozen grumbled mentions of the word family.

The franchise’s gradual shift from reality-rooted street racing to the realm of the utterly absurd continues unabated. Much like a car with a jammed accelerator, Fast X careens wildly down the path of implausibility, its narrative held hostage by the relentless pursuit of bigger, bolder, and more outrageous stunts. The problem is simple though: it’s just not very fun anymore. The franchise’s trademark absurdity, which once lent it a certain cheeky charm, has now become an unbearable weight around its neck. Like Dom’s beloved Charger, the franchise seems to be rusting from within, its appeal eroding as Diesel’s stranglehold on the series grows more powerful. A cast overstuffed with underdeveloped characters and forced lame humor further muddies the waters, turning what should be a high-octane joyride into a gridlocked freeway of confusion.

Yet, amid the wreckage of Fast X, there’s a singular beacon of entertainment: Jason Momoa. Embracing the role of a flamboyantly defiant criminal hell-bent on taking down Dom, Momoa offers a breath of fresh air in an otherwise stifling environment. His performance is a delightful cocktail of mischief, charisma, and unapologetic flamboyance. It’s like watching a peacock strut through a junkyard – utterly out of place, but captivating nonetheless.

Despite a plot that’s as stable as a three-wheeled car, performances that would make a high school drama teacher wince, and a disturbing trend towards the superheroic, Fast X manages to cling onto a shred of the series’ original appeal. But it’s a tenuous grip at best. The franchise desperately needs to take a pit stop, examine its worn-out tires and sputtering engine, and chart a course back to the grounded reality that made us fall in love with it in the first place.

However, as things stand, it appears as though the franchise has committed to its path, hurtling towards a future where cars might not just fly, but possibly travel through time or even dimensions. It’s a wild spectacle, but one that seems increasingly detached from the spirit of the original films. The joyride that was once an exhilarating exploration of car culture and familial bonds has lost its joy, becoming a hollow spectacle of excess. Fast X may be a milestone, marking the franchise’s tenth outing, but it’s a milestone that signals a need for change. It’s a stark reminder that bigger stunts and a bigger cast don’t necessarily make for a better film.

The Fast and the Furious was never about superheroes; it was about street racers with a penchant for danger and a deep-seated sense of loyalty. It was about family. And it’s hard to be much of a family when you have an attention-seeking patriarch demanding so much spotlight. It’s high time the franchise took a pit stop, examined its worn-out tires and sputtering engine, and charted a course back to the semi-grounded reality that made audiences around the world fall in love with it in the first place. Until then, we’re just passengers on a joyride that’s lost its joy.

CONCLUSION: ‘Fast X’ floors the Fast & Furious franchise beyond the brink of absurdity, delivering a spectacle as deflated as a punctured tire despite its astronomical budget and star-studded cast. It might be in the final stretch, but it leaves us wondering: perhaps it’s past time we leave this once-thrilling ride in the rear-view mirror.