Brad Pitt channels ‘Maverick’ in a high-octane driving movie that’s actually fast and furious

An aging, non-conformist legend is back in the driver’s seat, going head-to-head with young hotshots, enraging his boss and flashing a million-dollar smile at a girl.

It’s “F1: Maverick”!

Yes, the “Top Gun” sequel’s director, Joseph Kosinski, clearly has a ready-made formula for his new Formula 1 film.

However, a soulless clone of the Tom Cruise hit, “F1: The Movie” is not.

What revs up the Brad Pitt vehicle into a thrilling summer entertainment all its own is unfurling that winning blueprint on top of an underdog sports story. 

Think “Hoosiers” with gas.

Yeah, there’s nothing new about it. So what? Why reinvent the… 

Sorry.

A rogue spitfire named Sonny (Pitt), who left the track behind after a near-fatal crash 30 years earlier, is taken out of retirement by friend Ruben (Javier Bardem) and tasked with turning around his team that has “never finished in the top.”   

He’s a hire HR would hang up on. Sonny, reckless every which way, became a gambling addict and did a stint as a New York taxi driver. 

Actually, the most unrealistic part of “F1” is picturing Brad Pitt asking somebody if they want to take the tunnel.  

The chiseled has-been both competes against — and teaches — Joshua, a promising if overconfident rookie. Josh is a star-making role for Damon Idris, the magnetic 33-year-old Brit who’s appeared in tinier films and TV series. The camera loves him, which is no small task when he’s standing next to Brad Pitt.   

Sarah Niles from “Ted Lasso” as the young man’s mother Bernadette is vital. A compassionate performer, she adds stakes playing the parent of a man whose job is always an inch away from death.

Where “F1” most departs from “Maverick” is emotionality. The heart doesn’t ache, it races. Pitt’s Sonny gets overheated, but he never cries in a corner.

For those who want to blush, there’s a hint of romance for the rare instances when we tire of tires. Sonny spars and flirts with technical director Kate, played with earthy vigor by the luminous Kerry Condon. They’re a counterintuitive pairing that pops. 

The one subplot that is underdeveloped — somehow in a movie that’s more than two and a half hours long — is an ongoing spat between Sonny and a board member played by Tobias Menzies. Could’ve done without that scrap metal.

Brad gets the job done. At this point in Pitt’s career, he’s playing Brad Pitt better than anybody else can play Brad Pitt. He really makes a fantastic Brad Pitt, donning an entire Sunglasses Hut, and that’s all the audience wants.

Forget if Sonny emerges victorious in the end. It’s Apple that has notched a win. A cinematic one, anyway.

The tech giant dumps Fort Knoxes of dollars into its movies, often foolishly. Its recent list of pricey duds reads like a medieval torture chamber’s inventory: “Argylle,” “Fly Me To The Moon,” “Napoleon.” Mace, stretching rack, thumbscrews.

For once, a director actually knows how to spend that Cupertino cash. “F1” is no money Pitt. The races look real, breathtakingly so, and are edited like a bat out of hell. Most importantly, the viewer fully believes Pitt and Idris are actually driving these cars.

We’re freaked out when automobiles flip over and catch fire. That’s where the movie’s surprises lie. In a script with totally predictable character journeys, all the grit comes from the Grand Prix. 

And, while it’s hard to refer to a film that is mostly asphalt and bleachers as “exotic,” the events around the world — Daytona, the UK, Las Vegas, Abu Dhabi, Hungary, the Netherlands — are genuinely transportive. The far-flung locales impart the sport’s massiveness.

Is “F1” too long? Absolutely.

But not once did I say, “Are we there yet?”