Fast 7’s tribute to Paul Walker made me cry

Stuff some Kleenex in your pocket when you go to see Fast 7. Trust me.

Walker on set of the first film | Photo by dfirecop via Flickr (http://bit.ly/1c2tRSX)
Walker in Fast 7 | Photo by Automotive Rhythms via Flickr (http://bit.ly/1GGnmAj)

Walker in Fast 7 | Photo by Automotive Rhythms via Flickr (http://bit.ly/1GGnmAj)

I went into Fast 7 knowing that it was possible I would shed a tear or two. I’ve seen every movie in the franchise at least once–most twice–and there’s something I love about them, something self-aware and goofy and committed; something made that way by the presence of the franchise’s two main actors, Vin Diesel and Paul Walker.

Paul Walker has been my celebrity hall pass since before the days I needed a hall pass–the days of Pleasantville and She’s All That–and in a sense, he’s been a version of that character in every movie he’s ever acted in. That’s because, more than most semi-successful actors, Paul Walker seemed to play a version of himself: bro-ish, handsome, a laid-back daredevil. His death in November 2013 seemed to preclude the possibility of any large role for him in Fast 7 since there were still months of filming left, but the magic of technology gave Walker back his role.


One of the most affecting things about Walker’s death was the way his Fast & Furious costars grieved their loss. Our culture of mourning has always found public expressions; what once was expressed in black dresses and armbands now finds an outlet on Twitter and Instagram. Just after Walker’s death, his Furious costar Tyrese Gibson posted a photo of the two of them:

Seeing someone’s grief laid bare–grief over a public figure–feels awkward and uncomely. As much as I knew about his career; as many years as I had a picture of him inside my high school locker (at least two), I didn’t know Paul Walker. But his costars seemed to love him, which made the mourning process even more visible.

One of the recurring lines throughout the Furious franchise comes from Vin Diesel’s character Dominic Toretto, and it’s some variation of the sentiment “I don’t have friends; I have family.” And I am about to sound SO cheesy, but here it goes: With this franchise, you kind of get the feeling that it’s true, and that this group of people have actually become like family to one another. It’s not just Tyrese’s Instagram that points this out; it’s Ludacris and Michelle Rodriguez commenting on how much they miss him; Rachel Leigh Cook saying he was “a truly good person in a town of questionable characters;” it’s Vin Diesel naming his daughter Pauline after his co-star and friend, a man he often referred to as his brother. It’s touching, I think, in part because I have friends I’ve known long enough to consider like family, and because I’m a sentimental mess of a human being who will cry at a Hallmark commercial or the end of the Sweet Valley High series.

But it’s also touching because I know people who have died too soon; most of us do, and this movie expresses that bewildering grief: What if I had done something differently? What do we do now? How does life work without this person?

Walker on set of the first film | Photo by dfirecop via Flickr (http://bit.ly/1c2tRSX)

Walker on set of the first film | Photo by dfirecop via Flickr (http://bit.ly/1c2tRSX)

At the end of Fast 7 (SPOILER ALERT), Walker is not killed off. His character ends the film frolicking on the beach with his (allegedly pregnant but suspiciously svelte) wife and son while the rest of the cast talks about how content he looks. Vin Diesel tries to pull an Irish goodbye, but Walker isn’t having it and pulls up in the car next to his. Then the Wiz Khalifa song starts–“It’s been a long day since I’ve seen you my friend/And I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again”–and my husband and I, who had been trying to keep it light, both lost our shit. Walker meant so much to these actors and filmmakers, and their tribute to him–which comprises the last five minutes of the film–is so moving and lovely in its attempt to keep something of him alive. “It was graceful, it was classy, it was elegant, it was everything it needed to be,” Ludacris told Savannah Guthrie in an interview with The Today Show.

Death is so, so sad, which is the dumbest thing to say. The ending of the movie was sentimental, but that’s not inappropriate for paying tribute to a dead friend. You might hate it, but you also might need to bring Kleenex to Fast 7. I never thought I’d say that.

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