When you strip away the corporate slop disguised as superhero movies or yet another unwarranted sequel, the cinematic landscape has become a Niagara Falls of nihilism and gnosticism. Simply put, it’s damn near impossible to find a film that feels like a movie—one audiences can enjoy purely for the joy of storytelling, spectacle, and human triumph.

The last time Hollywood delivered something this pure was Top Gun: Maverick, a billion-dollar juggernaut that screamed to the industry: This is what people want. Of course, Hollywood didn’t listen. Too arrogant. Too ignorant. Too busy counting franchise checkboxes to care. And that’s exactly what makes Apple’s F1—produced and financed by Brad Pitt’s Plan B Entertainment—such a revelation.

This isn’t just a racing movie. It’s a redemption story about a 55-year-old has-been clawing his way back into the sport that broke him, using the blistering world of Formula 1 as his battlefield. Racing. Drama. Excitement. Raw, unfiltered action. F1 is what a Hollywood movie should be—which is why it’s easily the best film of 2025 so far.

In the high-octane world of Formula One, veteran racer Sonny Hayes (Brad Pitt), once a prodigious talent, was sidelined by a catastrophic crash in 1993. For decades, he’s scraped by as a hired gun in lesser circuits, a ghost of his former promise. Fresh off a gritty victory at the 24 Hours of Daytona, Sonny’s life takes a sharp turn when his old teammate and APXGP team owner Rubén Cervantes (Javier Bardem) comes knocking.

The APXGP squad is on life support—hemorrhaging money, talent, and hope after a disastrous season. To avoid a forced sale to vulture investors, Rubén begs Sonny to return as the second driver alongside hotshot rookie Joshua Pearce (Damson Idris). The mission? Clinch one podium in the remaining nine Grands Prix. One shot to save the team. One chance for Sonny to rewrite his legacy.

Reluctant but haunted by unfinished business, Sonny dives in at Silverstone. He immediately clashes with the team’s brilliant, exasperated technical director Kate McKenna (Kerry Condon), whose cutting-edge upgrades can’t hide the car’s fatal flaws. Joshua, a prodigy rattled by the team’s instability and already eyeing bigger teams, resents the grizzled veteran encroaching on his turf. Sonny, meanwhile, struggles with the alien pace of modern F1—hybrid engines, data overload, aerodynamic witchcraft—a far cry from the raw, analog machines of his youth.

Tensions explode during the British Grand Prix. Egos collide. Tires scream. A fiery pile-up leaves both drivers in the wreckage, exposing raw rivalries and paper-thin trust. But Sonny doesn’t quit. He mentors Joshua through tactical chaos at Hungary, using a safety car deployment to snatch a top-ten finish. Kate’s relentless tweaks begin to pay off. At rain-slicked Monza, personal stakes skyrocket—Joshua’s defiance triggers a horrifying crash, sidelining him and thrusting Sonny into the unforgiving spotlight of redemption, all under the calculating gaze of team exec Peter Banning (Tobias Menzies).

F1 is the story of a has-been who never truly was. Thirty years ago, Sonny was the Next Big Thing—until a single accident obliterated his trajectory. After making noise on the lower circuits, he’s handed a second chance in the sport that ended him. But this time, he’s paired with a cocky, image-obsessed rookie more concerned with his brand than the team. It’s mentor vs. protégé. Old school vs. new blood. Survival vs. ambition.

Brad Pitt’s performance is effortless—charismatic, weathered, and utterly convincing as a man who’s been counted out but refuses to stay down. The visuals are jaw-dropping. You can feel the $300 million budget poured into real locations, real racetracks, and practical stunt work. From the neon-drenched chaos of Las Vegas to the sun-scorched finale in Abu Dhabi, F1 puts you in the cockpit.

The races are the film’s beating heart—shot with visceral intensity, capturing the speed, danger, and split-second decisions that define Formula 1. This isn’t CGI slop. This is cinema. F1 is a near-perfect popcorn movie elevated by next-level action sequences that leave you breathless. But more than that, it’s a defiant middle finger to the soulless assembly-line blockbusters choking theaters.

This film is what cinema is supposed to be—story first, spectacle second, heart always. And yet, despite being one of the year’s best, it’s a wake-up call: we’re watching the last of a dying breed. The filmmakers who still care about what this industry once stood for are vanishing.

Apple and Plan B didn’t just make a racing movie. They crafted an absorbing, adrenaline-fueled experience that turns casual viewers into F1 fans and leaves diehards in awe. F1: The Movie has everything—heart, stakes, and sheer cinematic bravado. Hollywood, take notes. This is how it’s done.

4.5/5

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