Almost everyone is aware of the car chase in this film, for someone like me, it's pretty much the only reason to watch it. I've certainly never bought into the whole 'King of Cool' McQueen cult, he always struck me as a rather dull screen presence with a singular facial expression which resembled gravel trying to think.
The story is OK, the standard bent folk in City Hall Vs. morally upright cop stuff, but blah, blah, blah, a 1968 Mustang GT.
Yes, I know, in a world where our continued reliance on fossil fuels is accelerating our own demise, it is both morally void and increasingly redundant to find such engineering relics objects of desire... but fuck me sideways, I'd fucking love to thrash one of them for an afternoon. Afterwards, by way of penance, I would plant fifty trees and read nine Guardian articles about my own terribleness.
Actually, fuck that. Let's say an entire week followed by a ten acre forest. Cheers.
"Chief, the conspiracy is true, I've been cloned!"
"Oh my! This is shocking!"
"No he hasn't, ignore the imposter. I mean, me."
The Dodge Charger ain't too wank, either.
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