Whoa, as Keanu Reeves would say. In order to prove that there are some values in the world, that the fix isn't always in, Speed, against Pops' wishes, chooses to go on a sort of undercover mission, joining a rally race with mysterious masked driver Racer X (yes, this film also takes place in a universe where people's verbal skills are so pre-rudimentary that they can't make the connection between "Rex Racer" and "Racer X") and maybe-not-as-upright-as-he-seems would-be whistleblower Taejo Togokhan, played by Fox and Japanese pop star Rain, respectively. Said rally race, of course, having been the venue where Rex lost his life. Their main opponent is the team led by decadent, gangster-co-opted Snake Oiler (Oliver), but the whole race is full of kinky cheaters, who are brought to life by the Wachowskis with a cheeky relish.

It's during this weird, beyond-frenetic desert-to-ice-capped-peaks race sequence that the picture's defining scene occurs. After multiple double-crosses including ninja attacks and faked identities bring the intrigues to a boil, the good and bad factions, in all their motley eye-popping glory, face off in a fight involving guns, fists, martial arts kicks and chops, and, alas, chimp feces. Except there's no action per se. The various characters strike, and freeze, in heroic poses. The camera revolves around them, and they look totally, like, awesome and iconic and, well, heroic. Then there's a sound effect, or a bunch of sound effects, and maybe a depiction of a single blow or shot. The chimp feces aren't thrown, but we see them on the face of one of the more unctuous baddies. And so on. It's entirely ridiculous, and it is presented to the audience as if it is what is actually happening, that is, this is the way that Speed and his family and allied are putting down the bad guys.

One has seen precursors of this idea in certain martial arts or Asian fantasy movies. I was slightly reminded of a scene in Takashi Miike's recent kid's movie The Great Yokai War in which its collected demons and monsters and heroes take a time out from their battle to sample some delicious Kirin drinks (Kirin produced the film and is actually an important part of its story line). But to have a series of poses effectively substitute for battle in a live-action summer blockbuster film in this way is to... well, it's to take Godardian notions to places where even Godard might never have dreamed of taking them.

This all leads up, finally, to a Grand Prix climax in which Speed has to summon the sum total of everything he's learned in life to smite the capitalist monster Royalton. Here the pop-art unreality becomes so extreme that I half–expected that the movie would end with Speed metamorphosed into a giant wide-eyed baby, hovering in space above the earth. Like I said, confounding. Then again, maybe I'm reading too much into it.

— Glenn Kenny