Recently there has been a film that offers both sensory enjoyment and a touch to the soul: F1. This racing film, created by the same team behind Top Gun: Maverick, has already achieved a box-office miracle—$626 million worldwide, becoming the highest-grossing film of Brad Pitt’s career.
This time, Pitt isn’t (just) showing off his looks and muscles
To be honest, my reason for going into the theater at first was very straightforward. The moment I saw the poster online, I was hooked—six-pack abs, broad shoulders, perfect proportions. The most handsome man in the world paired with the fastest and most thrilling sport in the world. At that moment, I was mentally prepared to start drooling.
Do you know? Brad Pitt is already over 60 years old. But watching his performance in this film, I would believe you if you told me he was in his 30s. That sense of youthful vitality doesn’t come only from muscles built in the gym. In recent years he appeared in Wolfs, wearing a middle-aged cadre-style jacket while acting opposite George Clooney; his physique, looks, and youthful energy were all still there, while George had already chosen to directly play a white-haired elderly rogue. That shows just how incredible Pitt’s condition is.
In F1, he doesn’t continue the usual routine of showing off looks and muscles. Instead, he takes a more interesting route—while remaining sexy, he interprets the middle-aged racing driver Sonny with a refined, slightly roguish elegance. This is not a role that attracts people purely through appearance; it requires acting skill, temperament, and an understanding of the character’s inner core. Pitt delivers.
An interpretation of leadership — How do we win?
If you only look at the surface of the story, F1 is a standard inspirational sports film: a frustrated middle-aged driver returns to the racetrack and leads a team on the verge of collapse to rise again from the ashes. This kind of story framework has been told countless times. But what makes this film moving is that beneath this shell it wraps deep reflections on leadership, teamwork, ideals, turning adversity around, and philosophy of life. Spoilers Below.
At the beginning, Sonny wins the Daytona race with a team, but he doesn’t stay. After winning first place, he refuses the team leader’s invitation and instead wants to drive a beat-up car to the seaside to run the Baja race. This is not the choice of an ambitious man; it is the choice of someone who has already let something go. Until his old friend—now team owner Ruben—finds him and strongly invites him to join APXGP, a team on the verge of bankruptcy.
What is APXGP? It is the team ranked last. What does that mean? It means starting last, and cars that can never finish a full lap competitively. Anyone who has watched F1 knows that feeling of despair—after 60 laps, the leading teams can lap the trailing teams by more than one full lap. Under the giant scoreboard, everyone’s results are laid out. Every race continues burning enormous amounts of money. A rear wing alone costs hundreds of thousands of dollars; every crash is gambling with money that ordinary people cannot imagine. Half of the cars are always just running along with the pack, never earning points. I don’t know how strong those team owners’ hearts must be, or how deep their love for the sport must be, to keep going.
Facing such a desperate starting point, what does Sonny do? Sonny demonstrates the most fundamental qualities of a leader. It almost like he followed the steps in a leadership textbook.
First, he proves his ability to the team. After decades away from the F1 circuit, he returns and immediately sets the fastest lap time. In the first few races, he successfully helps the team earn its first point. With half the season already gone, one can imagine how much hope and encouragement that precious single point brings.
Second, he gives the team direction, a path to success. Sonny repeatedly studies technical data and carefully observes every race. Eventually he finds the team’s strength—cornering speed. In a team meeting, he encourages everyone to participate and fight for 0.1 seconds in every small detail. These tiny gains add up; after 60 or 70 laps, they can become a huge lead. What F1 often competes for is precisely those few seconds of difference. At that moment, everyone sees hope—not just a small hope, but a conviction of victory that could truly create history.
I cannot forget that scene at the end of the meeting. Everyone—whether engineers in technical roles or mechanics tightening bolts—shouts together: “combat,” “combat,” the sound growing louder and more unified and everyone has smile on his/her face. In that moment they are no longer separate departments working independently, but one whole. As a leader, Sonny leads everyone to win, together.
Let's also don't forget that Sonny goes through everything, including hardships with the team. Whether misunderstood, blamed, or running together, joking and fooling around with everyone, they become increasingly synchronized and harmonious. A team like that is bound to win. In the end, this becomes the team that works miracles- they completely rebuild a racing car within 10 mins and helped Sonny win the first ever championship.
What one seeks in life
Two conversations at the beginning and the end of the film actually say the same thing.
At the beginning, Sonny speaks with a restaurant waiter:
“If a friend invites you to do something that seems too good to be true, what do you think?”
“Well, how much are we talking about here”
“It’s not about money.”
The waiter rolls her eyes politely: “Then what is it about?”
At the end, Sonny applies to join the Baja race and speaks with a member of the Baja team:
“We can’t pay you much. Are you still willing to participate?”
“I just want to drive, and it has nothing to do with money.”
“Then what is it about?”
Both times, Sonny smiles. Yes—Then what is it about?
This is not simply a mirrored beginning and ending, but the complete trajectory of self-redemption for a forgotten racer. He once forgot his love for racing and lost confidence in himself. Decades of wandering exile made him accustomed to a rootless life. But when he returns to the racetrack, he finally finds his original self again—the self who existed purely to enjoy the joy of driving.
On the final lap of the F1 race, when he is leading, he reaches a state of self-forgetfulness. Although other cars are still chasing closely behind, ahead of him there is no car at all—only him and the track, only the wind, only the lights, curve after curve. The world is so quiet. He is flying. And then, after crossing the finish line, an explosion of cheers. People rush onto the track hugging and celebrating.
“Today, we are the best in the world.”
These words come from someone who once doubted himself, from someone who once didn’t know what he was living for. It is as if fate had never really lost him—it only made a brief detour through other scenery.
I still remember when I worked in the automotive industry in Shanghai years ago. Every Sunday I would spend several hours to watch F1 races. At that time I didn’t really understand the technical depth of the sport. I just blindly loved speed and excitement, thinking the fastest thing in the world must also be the coolest. Especially when I saw Schumacher standing on the podium driving a Ferrari, champagne spraying everywhere—I would be excited in front of the television as well. Even though I couldn’t afford tickets to watch in person and had to take two subway transfers for more than an hour to get to work every day, it didn’t stop me from enthusiastically reciting drivers’ names, rankings, points, and fastest lap records at any moment. Back then I didn’t seem to feel that life was difficult.
Now, watching F1, I remember a little of that excitement and why it existed.
In recent years, most news about Brad Pitt has been about family gossip, which made me lose interest in watching his movies for quite a long time. But after seeing several of his recent films, I realized that he has actually been diligently making films every year, never stopping his exploration of acting. Being handsome and hardworking at the same time is already unbeatable.
Perhaps this is what deeply moved me about this film—it not only tells the rebirth story of a fictional character, but also shows the perseverance and effort of Pitt and many others. The female mechanic carrying tires, the engineering director drawing plans late into the night, the elderly technical advisor who still refuses to give up—they all feel so real, real people persevering for what they believe in and love. When the film ends and the credits roll for more than ten minutes listing thousands of staff members, aren’t they also those who persist in creating dreams and chasing them?
F1 does not merely display the charm of speed and technology. It tells a story of continual pursuit, persistent effort, rising again after failure, and redefining—and ultimately surpassing—oneself with the support of a team.
In fact, it could be the story of any ordinary person.
