From Script to Screen: Subtext in ‘The Fast and the Furious’
Let’s take a closer look at how the characters, action and story were written on the page before they hit the screen.
The OG fast car film that started the multi-billion dollar franchise blows out 25 candles this month. While that simultaneously makes me feel adrenalized (totally a word) and very old, what is even more fascinating is how a little action flick about illegal street racing became a cult hit. And then a franchise opener with ten films and counting, a theme park ride, and television spin-off.
What elevated the script from mere action fodder to—dare I say it?—timeless classic. Depends who you’re asking, because stories and the scripts that started them are as subjective as the people who enjoy them. It’s what makes screenwriting so damn hard. They’re ephemeral in what hits and what doesn’t.
Or are they?
You see, as much as Hollywood wants the “next big thing” that’s fresh and different, there are a few key elements that make a concept feel both that but also marketable in a way they can understand. A solid script is usually x meets y and features the following common elements: Well-defined, believable characters, engaging action, and a clear, defined story goal.
Let’s take a closer look at each of these in terms of how they were written, versus what the final product looks like on screen. Because another important factor to telling a good story is how it’s written. That tale as old as time battle of balancing show versus tell on the page.
[Note: the script available online differs from the final shooting script, but features the key scene lines we’ll be looking at.]
Well-defined, believable characters. It doesn’t matter their situation, if we can’t connect with something human, some emotion of theirs, all is lost for the rest of the script. Here’s looking at you, Dom and Brian.
These two friends meet mid-fight. As in, Brian’s fighting one of Dominic’s oldest friends and the latter steps in at his sister’s request to break it up. We’ve already gotten plenty of characterization from that little set-up: Brian tries to avoid fighting but will get down-and-dirty if necessary (and Vince pushes him to just that brink). Then Dom avoids fighting altogether, subverting the violent profile Brian’s boss gives him of the “criminal”.
The introduction also sets up the love triangle between Brian, Mia, and Vince—as well as the “don’t touch your friend’s sister” trope—accomplishing a lot in under two pages (read: two minutes of screen time).
Script page reference: Page 12
After we, the audience that is, learn Brian’s a cop and quite possibly also being seduced to the dark side that is Toretto’s world, he and Dominic have a heart-to-heart that in true dude fashion is all car speak. Even though it started as a ‘beware I’m a beast since you insist on dating my sister’. But instead of saying that per se, Dom chooses to tell Brian about his backstory: beating the guy who was involved in his dad’s death to an inch of his life. In other words, screenwriters take note: subtext is king and you can say a lot without saying it, at all. And then: the line that sets up all the Fast & Furious lore to come.
Engaging action. Shocking, I know, especially for an action film. The Fast and the Furious had the pleasure of being the first so their action sequences are relatively tame in comparison to later franchise entrants, but that doesn’t take away from the thrill of the race.
That first race, Brian versus Dom down the streets of L.A., was always about more than who passes the finish line first. Sure it doesn’t matter if you win by an “inch or a mile”, winning’s winning. But the race itself while outwardly for movie-going thrills is about respect for the characters. Who’s got it for who, who wants it, who needs it, and who’s gonna get it. It’s about belonging in this world. A theme that’s woven through all the Fast movies.
Anyone else catch the double entendre in Brian’s “I’m gonna win. You’re gonna win.” As he psyches himself up to race Toretto? On the surface: it’s about the race. In the grand scheme — they both do. Toretto might win the race, but in the end, he also wins his freedom from Brian, and Brian wins Toretto’s respect and belong to his family.
Like his boss says while they’re at base camp, “there’s all kinds of family.” Brian just has to choose. Which leads us to:
A clear, defined story goal. Preferably with escalating obstacles and plenty of twists. Like Brian’s life-saving 9-1-1 call revealing to he’s a cop. Didn’t see that one coming, did you, Dom?
In the climax of the movie, Dom’s insisted on going through with “one final heist” — let’s not even get into that red herring classic — and Vince is seriously injured. Brian, hot on their tail with Mia, calls for help so that Dom’s best friend doesn’t die. The catch: to get help faster, he reveals he’s a police officer on the phone while maintaining steady eye contact with Dom. The news lands and in a breathless moment, you’re just not quite sure what Toretto’s going to do.
A relatively mundane conversation developed in one of the most intense life-or-death situations. A reveal without, again, overtly stating the fact person-to-person. Powerful.
But as we all know, this is in actuality just the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
From “living life a quarter mile at a time” to making NOS a household phrase, a rewatch, perhaps with script in hand, of The Fast and the Furious is a worthy lesson for screenwriters. Reading scripts in general is a good habit to get into, understanding the mechanics of how things translate from script to screen to keep honing those balancing skills. Want more Fast culture? You can also check out The Blockbusters That Shaped Us: Style and Structure in ‘The Fast & Furious’ Franchise.
