Like my cars, I'll make this fast.

Volkswagen.

Jeep.

Hyundai.

I'm not entirely sure if these car companies are based on some eccentric automotive legend or not, but either way, I don't really give a shit (though Mr. Hyundai sounds remotely intriguing). Regardless, these are the (imaginary?) dudes I've rolled with in my illustrious two-and-a-half decade driving career, which when put into Google translate, comes out to he doesn't know anything about cars and/or doesn't have a good job.

And that's totally......fair.

But better than fair, perhaps even far better, would be James Mangold's latest biopic, Ford v. Ferrari. Seen with an old man (and an old kid) after Midway (of all movies!) was sold out, this Matt Damon and Christian Bale...wait for it...vehicle...was an absolute crowd-pleaser. And I should know, because I was sitting in the very back corner of the theater and could see absolutely EVERYONE.

[if we didn't split up, we were going to leave...and I couldn't let that happen]

After a hilariously failed bid to buy Ferrari, Henry Ford II (hereby referred to as The Deuce) angrily assembles a team to build, and I quote, the best motherf--kin' racecar in the history of this motherf--kin' planet, goddammit. Fine, he didn't say that, but it wouldn't have been the first artistic liberty taken, I can assure you.

Anyhow, The Deuce's team comprises of some men whose gib have cuts that are quite likable, namely Carroll Shelby (Matt Damon) and Ken Miles (Christian Bale). These two guys, kind of the Cousin Larry and Balki Bartokomous of the automotive industry, are tasked with designing a racecar that can win LeMans, the highly prestigious twenty-four hour road race.

Shelby and Miles likely have what it takes to win, as each is an expert at...gears and steering wheels...and unleaded gasoline...hubcaps, transmission juice...you know, all the highly techinical things that make cars go. Unfortunately, there's a lot of meddling from the starched suits that orbit The Deuce, and it's never quite clear if they'll actually make it to the race, let alone win the damn thing.

This is oddly beautiful, no?

Though I'm a sure a quick Googling would have answered all the questions I didn't have, I managed to go into the movie as blind as could be and ended up really, really enjoying it. My father-in-law was absolutely blown away (he goes to two movies a year), and if raised eyebrows mean anything, Ford v. Ferrari just might be his favorite movie of all-time. My high-school-age nephew also liked it, well, as much as sixteen year-old boys like anything that doesn't jiggle. So, if the opinions of three generations of random white dudes mean anything to you, as they most obviously should(n't), you should give Ford v. Ferrari a...you ready?...drive. Spin. I mean spin. Right? You spin cars.

Speaking of poorly-chosen words, let's strap on, er, in, with the Yays and Boos. Pretty sure this one is peak Dad Cinema, which, as a father of two, ain't exactly the worst thing.

The racing footage is so frickin' brilliant

Yaaaaaaaaaay!

• My Lord, did I have a thing for Miles' wife, Mollie. Yes, Caitriona Balfe is beyond lovely (and that voice *dead*), but this lady is the absolute truth. (But watch out for her behind the wheel)
• Wait, what? My dude Jon Bernthal is in this? And he's playing Lee Iacocca? That's f--king great.
• Happy, Bill?
• It isn't exactly champagne...but it's got bubbles. *dies*
• You're welcome. (this line got huge laughs)
• I can hardly believe it's possible, but the explanation of markers on the track blindsided me. It makes sense, but you're f--king kidding, right? A crack in the road at 200+? Wild.
• Dude, I don't even know what I've seen Ray McKinnon in before, but I friggin' love this guy. Phil Remington seemed like a guy you'd want to roll with.
• I still got a laugh out of that kid locking Head Suit in the office, even if that's the kind of stuff that they put in the trailers for grandma's to slap their knees about.
• The only thing better than a translation scene is an incredibly awkward translation scene. Glad I now know how to say sons of whores in more than one language.
• And finally, shocking no one, Christian Bale is incredible here. And always. I know this is like saying water's wet, but still. Hell, I don't know anything about acting (or writing, or much), but this dude disappears every single time. Matt Damon was good, but he's still Matt Damon. Bale? He wasn't good. He was gone.

First he won't sign Melanie Carmichael's divorce papers...
...and now this.

Booooooo!

• Look, I think Shelby seems like a pretty kick-ass, take-charge kind of guy. But, uh, how about we let the pilot land the f--king plane, Hoss?
• Why are they always trying to dump Ken? I get that the guy's a bit unorthodox, but isn't his greatness kind of...obvious? (it was to us)
• I may have misled you saying that I went in totally blind, as I did manage to catch some fluff-piece on CBS Sunday Morning (I'm old, shut it) with Damon and Bale. I was kind of half-watching, not wanting to know the ending, but they did address the Shelby/Miles wrestling match that was featured in trailer and surprise! It never happened. But they used it to sell the movie. Weak.
• Wait, wait, wait. A twenty-four hour race starts with...the drivers...running to their cars? Like, on foot? That's sooooo weird. That's like starting a swim meet, except everyone's in street clothes, and the first one to get undressed can jump in the pool and start swimming.
• They don't play baseball when it rains...but they'll still have a race. At 200 mph. At night. In the rain. *chews* No, sir. I don't like it.
• Who are these a-holes leaning over the barrier (on turns!) and waving their arms during the race? Seems like a bad call, assuming you, like me, enjoy having limbs.
• And finally, that damn ending. Sure, I'm going to assume that that's how it all went down, but what a way to send 'em home, right? The end of the race was a pretty epic throat punch as it was, sure, but then it's followed with one of the most unceremonious goodbyes in the history of film, essentially a two-footed horse kick squarely in the nuts.

My lease is up in May, and automotively speaking, the possibilities are endless. All I need is a working radio, sure, but I guess I should put a little more thought into it than that.

See, as a kid, I never really considered what kind of car I'd drive when I was older. My parents both drove VW's, so that felt like the only make to take. But I'm grown up now. I'm...a...man. And I'll be using my own hard-earned money, you know? Frankly, there's really only one type of car I've always expected to have in 2020.

A flying car.

They make those, right?