Faster | DVD | Widescreen

  After 10 years in prison, Driver (Dwayne Johnson) has focused on one thing – hunting down the people responsible for brutally murdering his brother. Now a free man with a terrifying purpose, he sets out to find and kill all those on his list. But on his heals are two men who will do anything to stop him – a veteran cop (Billy Bob Thornton) and a hitman (Oliver Jackson-Cohen) who finds his match in this worthy opponent. Now, the hunter is also the hunted.

       In Faster revenge is a dish best served quickly and with no remorse. Dwayne Johnson's character Driver has few lines, instead letting his actions--and the growls of the muscle car he's driving--speak volumes. Driver (given no other name for the duration of the movie) is released from prison, for crimes not initially noted, and immediately sets out in a fast car with a gun and a mission of revenge. He is coldly efficient with his kills, wasting no time or bullets as he delivers his brand of justice. The puzzle pieces of his crusade are snapped together with each victim he goes after; this is not a man who kills for the thrill. Each victim is specially selected, and Driver wants each to see his face to understand why they are being executed. Nor does he bother hiding his face from surveillance cameras or the police detectives (Billy Bob Thornton, Carla Gugino) chasing him. Driver is not a man who cares if he's caught, so long as he gets to finish his self-imposed task first. As word of his spree hits the news, one of his potential victims hires an assassin (Oliver Jackson-Cohen) to get to Driver first. Surprisingly, most of the characters show some depth of personality, in spite of being little more than caricatures of stereotypes (the troubled cop, the bored assassin). Faster isn't as reliant on mindless action as expected, but the story line is played out in such a way that you can't help rooting for Driver and his bloody revenge. Though parts are a tad predictable, all in all this is a thoroughly entertaining action flick. --Jill Corddry