Ford v. Ferrari and Gran Turismo have nothing on my next big racing movie: Racing Movie.

ezra dyer march april column
Ezra: I Wrote a Racing Movie to Destroy All OthersILLUSTRATION BY ADAM CRUFT - Car and Driver

From the March/April 2024 issue of Car and Driver.

In the past few years, there have been several movies about cars and racing: Ford v. Ferrari. Ferrari. Gran Turismo, featuring some Ferraris. Even Brad Pitt is making a Formula 1 flick. Obviously, Hollywood loves these kinds of movies, and I want a piece of the action. So here's my screenplay for the upcoming hit film Racing Movie.

Close-up of the protagonist, BART SKIDMORE, behind the wheel. Scenery flashes by.

BART: I want to be a race-car driver, but nobody believes in me. Nobody thinks I can drive fast enough. My only chance is to win this weekend at the Big Driving Contest.

Cut to the people in the back seat of Bart's Uber, yelling, "We believe in you! Please let us out!"

Now we're at the Big Driving Contest. It's an autocross course in the parking lot of an abandoned Kmart. Bart puts on a helmet and climbs into his clapped-out Honda Civic. His nemesis, CHAD RICHMAN, approaches.

CHAD: What are you doing here, Skidmore? You know I'm gonna beat you. But don't worry, I'll hire you as the brake-dust taster on my dad's race team, which I drive for in my fancy race car.

BART: We'll see about that.

Montage of racing action. We see feet violently mashing brake and throttle pedals, so we know they're driving fast. Bart and Chad are door to door at the finish, but Chad wins by an inch and celebrates next to his Porsche 911 GT3 RS. The camera pans to the fence, where grizzled crew chief TAD IRATE scowls, spits out his toothpick, and approaches Bart.

TAD: Hey, kid. You sucked out there. You're bad at driving, and your head's not on straight. You're also the most talented driver I've ever seen. Come join my race team with a fledgling car company that needs to win on the track to sell cars for the street. Now get back in your car, and I'll pat it twice on the roof so you know it's time to drive away.

Cut to a car factory. Sparks fly from metal grinders, and a worker smacks an engine block loudly with a ball-peen hammer. Tad introduces Bart to ALESSANDRO FERRIGHINI, the owner of the company.

ALESSANDRO: This is my new driver? He looks like he should be driving a taxi to take my third wife to meet with her divorce attorney at 2:45 p.m. today. Listen, idiots. If you don't win the Big Race with my race car, I will never be able to charge people $7593 for carbon-fiber dash inserts in my street cars. As you see, so much is on the line, and I am a tough bastard but also brilliant.

Cut to the Big Race. Eager spectators fill the grandstands. Race cars drive past slowly but rev loudly because that's how they warm up. Tad talks to Bart on the radio.

TAD: You gotta follow our race strategy. Step on the gas really abruptly. Stomp the brake pedal like there's a spider on it. If you need to pass someone, upshift, and you'll accelerate faster. And remember, there's always another gear, even if you've already upshifted 10 times.

BART: But Tad, I'm scared. Remember how I crashed that one time? I better drive slow so I don't crash again.

We see Bart dropping back to last place. Chad gives him the finger as he laps him. Tad trashes the pits, and Alessandro strolls to a pawnshop right there at the track to hawk his mistress's mink coat. It seems like it's over.

TAD: Listen, Skidmore. You can do it if you remember to forget. Steer hard in the corners. Do it for me. Do it for your girlfriend, who seems like a more interesting character than you but whom we haven't really seen. Do it for Alessandro. I just saw him tell his secret family they're all fired, and none of them even work for him.

Bart flips up his visor so we can see him squint. He starts overtaking cars. They're on the racing line, and he just drives around way outside or squares off the corner at 90 degrees, and somehow that's faster. Chad starts to look nervous. On the last corner, they're door to door, and Chad is furious. He swerves, smashing his car into Bart's, and both spin backward across the finish line—with Bart's red Ferrighini just in the lead.

The spectators turn into werewolves and attack everybody, and the credits roll, starting with the director: QUENTIN TARANTINO.

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