To Fast and Furious protagonist Dominic Toretto, nothing is more important than family. Blood doesn’t matter, if you’re a member of his crew that means you’re family, and he’ll do anything for you. Need a lift? No problem, you’re family. Need a date for prom? Family has your back. Need to kick the shit out of someone? Family.
It’s all about family, and this mantra has evolved in recent weeks to be a comical farce that can be applied to anything. It’s silly, there’s no denying that, but there’s a level of sincerity to Fast and Furious’ examination of excessive masculinity and familial connection that warrants a deeper dive, and there’s a reason why millions of people across the internet have taken to this particular meme template so readily.
Related: Breath Of The Wild 2 Should Do Away With Flashback Storytelling
Dominic Toretto is a very forgiving man. His family consists of cops, criminals, and even a Jason Statham who over the course of nine films has tried to murder him in cold blood, kidnap his family, and, perhaps most embarassingly, beat him in a street race. Despite all this, he’s willing to let anyone pop round to his house for a barbecue after the dust has settled and he’s saved the world for the millionth time. It’s lovingly honest in its absurdity, yet he always feels genuine in how he treats people who are willing to show him equal respect.
When it comes to compassion, he’s just like Yakuza’s Kazuma Kiryu. The Dragon of Dojima has also helmed an absurd number of his own adventures featuring an endless list of sudden betrayals and attempts to place his precious family in danger. He’ll resort to violence on a constant basis, but only ever puts the beatdown on those who have ventured far from the path of honour, or need to be taught a lesson about the rights and wrongs of society. Outside of conflict, Kiryu and Toretto feel like two peas in a pod, a duo of men who are simply trying to find their way in the world.
From the original Yakuza right up until his final chapter, Kiryu’s focus is always the one and only family member he has left, and that’s Haruka. He’s raised her from nothing, trying his best to provide a meaningful upbringing for her while battling with a troubled past that refuses to grant him peace. Even when our hero finds himself pulled back into the criminal underworld of Kamurocho again and again, he always finds time to protect his loved ones. Whether it be through sending money back to Sunshine Orphanage or completing substories that focus on the local population, Kiryu is keen to do the right thing alongside his larger objective.
Kiryu always has time to listen and care for people while also getting into fistfights with random chavs on the streets. It’s the best of both worlds, and exemplifies the meaning of family and togetherness that sits at the centre of Yakuza. While the storytelling in Fast and Furious isn’t nearly as nuanced as Yakuza – in fact it borders on the point of parody – its over-the-top nature is exactly what lets its message shine through. The action is so ridiculous and the dialogue is so cheesy that you inevitably buy into the idea that these people would do anything for each other, even if they end up fighting aliens in the next film.
In a landscape of popular culture where masculinity is still often defined by violence, looks, and a one-dimensional view on your own existence, it’s great to see texts like Yakuza and Fast and Furious express more than a little empathy for how humans require and value a physical and emotional connection to other people in order to make life worth living. If Kiryu and Toretto ever met in real life, they’d likely have an epic showdown before becoming the best of friends, retiring to New Serena for a well-earned glass of whiskey and a Corona.
Next: A Director's Cut Won't Fix Ghost of Tsushima's Biggest Problems
