There’s so much plain and fancy hard work involved in a production like Grand Prix that it begins to seem almost cruelly flippant to watch it for the same reasons we’d watch a lousy old movie on television.

The predictable soap-opera elements might be strictly Formula One, but there’s innovation to spare when it comes to the mounting of the spectacular race scenes.

The did-it-for-real granddaddy of contemporary racing films & the apex of god-tier go-fast cinema, at worst unrivaled by anything since & at best the recipient of loving homage. To boot, it offers a ruthless understanding of professional racing business.

It's a rowdy, roaring, ecstatic hallelujah of movement and speed.