Let's get this out of the way: the camera work was stunning. There, I've said something nice.
Now, moving on to the far larger, messier, and frankly heart-breaking pile of issues I have with this film.
I went into the F1 movie with sky-high expectations. As someone who has both a deep love for motorsport and a background in film production, I was eager to see the two worlds I care deeply about finally intersect on the big screen.
What I got, however, felt more like a slap in the face than a celebration. A film that should have roared like a V10 ended up sputtering like a lawnmower. I left the cinema hurt, disillusioned, and frankly insulted. And to all the other women and men who value representation, fairness, and storytelling with backbone - if you left feeling the same, I want you to know: you are not alone.
A Visual Masterpiece Undone by its Message
Let me start with the only consistent highlight of the film: the cinematography. The panning shots inside the car were genuinely thrilling. They captured the speed, intensity, and beauty of Formula 1 in a way that felt immersive and fresh. The on-track visuals almost made me forget the chaos unfolding in the story - almost.
Team principals also deserve an honourable mention (real life ones and actors). Their scenes added a tiny drop of believability and emotional weight, largely due to actors like Javier Bardem, who delivered a performance that reminded me of Toto Wolff - intense, intelligent, and commanding without being cartoonish. He felt like the only character who read the script before filming started.
Unfortunately, that's where the compliments end. The rest of the film? A structurally weak, emotionally tone-deaf, and creatively lazy attempt at a story we've seen a thousand times - only this time, with more petrol and far less self-awareness.
A Film That Fails Women, Loudly and Repeatedly
Let's talk about the representation of women - or should I say, the absolute misrepresentation.
This is where the film falls from disappointing to downright dangerous. Women in Formula 1 - both on and off the track - are already fighting tooth and nail to be taken seriously. They're engineers, mechanics, strategists, analysts, PR powerhouses, and yes, fans too. And what does this film do? It reduces them to stereotypes, side pieces, and punchlines. It's not just lazy - it's damaging.
Let's take Kate McKenna, played by Kerry Condon. A character introduced as an engineering genius, with the potential to inspire young girls watching.
Instead, her storyline hinges entirely on a sexual relationship with a driver. We are left with the impression that her ideas only get noticed because she's sleeping with someone fast. What kind of message is that? This was meant to be a trailblazing women in motorsport - not another Hollywood trope.
Then we have the female mechanic, the only one, by the way. Her first major on-screen moment? She messes up. Clumsy, wide-eyed, and awkward. I could practically hear the collective sigh of every woman in the cinema: "Of course she's the one who gets it wrong." Yes, her arc improves, but the damage is done. Why not show her as competent from the start, the way her male counterparts are?
The PR assistant might as well have been a ghost. Overlooked, dismissed, and talked over - despite being in a role that, in real life, is essential to the sport's public presence. Again, why diminish her?
And finally, we come to the female fan whose first and only line is: "Can you introduce me to Carlos Sainz?" Funny? Sure, for half a second. But that joke sets the tone - women aren't here for the sport, they're here for the drivers. A tired cliché, and in 2025, completely inexcusable.
Lewis Hamilton: The Silent Disappointment
This one hurts. Lewis Hamilton - a driver who has been an outspoken advocate for diversity and inclusion in motorsport - was involved in this film's development. And yet, here we are. A movie with his name attached that sidelines, stereotypes and sexualises women in the very sport he's fought to make more inclusive. It's not just disappointing, it feels like a betrayal. One I didn't expect, and certainly didn't want to have to write about.
A Poor Showing of the Sport Itself
Even putting gender aside (though I'd rather not), the film doesn't do justice to Formula 1 as a sport either. Qualifying? Barely a whisper. Realism? Nowhere to be found. Drivers wearing jewellery during races? Not allowed, but somehow fine here. Crashes that feel more like Michael Bay than Monza? Please.
Newcomers to F1 who come to this film hoping to understand the sport will leave with a false sense of drama, danger and glamour. It's all smoke and no engine. Formula 1 is exciting enough - it doesn't need to be sensationalised to this extent. Not every corner needs sparks, and not every story needs a sexy subplot.
Acting So Wooden It Could Be Sanded
Most of the acting felt like a last-minute GCSE drama piece. Emotionally flat, poorly delivered, and completely lacking in chemistry. Scenes felt rushed, relationships unearned, and dialogue as stiff as a pit wall under pressure. The script doesn't help, of course - it's painfully predictable. I could tell the whole story within the first 15 minutes, and that's not me being smug, that's just the reality.
To compare: I recently saw 28 Years Later - a brilliant, gripping film. I didn't dare leave my seat in case I missed something crucial. With this F1 film? I strolled to the toilet with the confidence that nothing unexpected was going to happen. I was right.
A Legacy of Letdown
What stings most is that this film comes from the same creative force behind Top Gun: Maverick - a film that nailed representation, gave its female lead power without reducing her to romance, and treated its supporting cast with respect and celebrates its legacy as it deserves to. This F1 film could have - should have - stood proudly beside it. Instead, it crashes and burns.
It's taken me a few days to write this because I needed time to collect myself. I walked out of the cinema frustrated, and more than that - I felt alone. But I know I'm not. If you're reading this and felt similarly disrespected, disappointed, or dismissed by this film, I see you. I hear you. You are not wrong to feel upset.
Women belong in Formula 1. In the paddock. On the pit wall. In the garage. Behind the scenes. And most certainly in the audience. We are not here to be laughed at, ogled, or ignored. We are here because we love the sport - and it's about time cinema reflected that.
Final Thoughts
Would I recommend this film? No.
Not if you're a woman. Not if you're a man with any regard for accurate, fair representation. Not if you're familiar with the sport. Not even if you're a newcomer. If this is your first exposure to F1, please - watch Drive to Survive, F1: The Academy, read a race report, or just follow a race weekend. You'll get a more accurate picture in ten minutes than this film managed in two hours.
To the makers of this film: I want my £14.50 back.
But more importantly, I want a future where films about motorsport don't alienate the very people who live and breathe it.
If you’re after a taste of what Formula 1 should feel like - thrilling, empowering, and far removed from the nonsense we just sat through - then our F1 Driving Experiences are where the real adrenaline lives. No scripted drama, no romance subplots, just raw racing, real speed, and the kind of high-octane joy that Hollywood clearly can’t replicate.
And if you need a reminder of what women in motorsport actually bring to the table, have a read of our blog on the F1 Academy - because while the film missed the mark entirely, the women pushing this sport forward are hitting every apex with purpose and power.
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