The testosterone reaches critical mass quite early in this ridiculously self-indulgent nitrous oxide orgasm. Paul Walker gets his breakout role as an undercover cop, one with very little interest in actually doing any police work, who falls in with a crew of enterprising gear heads on the midnight street racing circuit. Vin Diesel, the headline costar, takes on his usual character: a growling, flexing, ultra-chill bro with shady connections but an open heart. Neither are particularly likable or interesting.

The whole thing is shallower than a toilet bowl, ticking so many "cool point" boxes that it mimics a rich, forgettable, three-minute music video. We've got fast cars, gorgeous sex objects, adrenaline-rich action scenes, loud radio hits (juuust a bit dated) and a posh location or two. Not much in the way of meaningful character arcs or deeper substance.

It's a true "what you see is what you get" experience. Big and dumb and gruff and insecure, with a plot that varies from meaningless to pointless and a versatile cast with nothing to do beyond gripping the steering wheel (or each other) and looking sexy. On this first go-around, at least, the action retains some passing association with reality. Points for that.