If things had worked out differently, I don’t think I would have ended up watching any of the Fast and Furious films. I like pretty people driving gorgeous cars as much as the next person, probably more so, but I wasn’t convinced they could make one feature length film out of such a thing, let alone seven. Yet, those seven movies later, I’m an emotional wreck. Paul Walker’s death was meaningless to me at the time, but is now steeped in so much poignancy it physically hurts to think about.