Max Coombes’s review published on Letterboxd:
Lin does well to disperse action to a near parodic degree, making every beat of Fast Five vibrate with chaotic life. In a move that at once subverts and instates the mythic, Fast Fives story tells itself in past tense but the events we see have the quality of blindly becoming on the threshold of an ever indeterminate future. As such it feels as though we are always catching up to it, and the central group are concurrently in the process of breaching that fixed point that allows for Fast Five to be tellable. What grounds it is not a compromise in dramatic urgency but the recurring emphasis on community as the necessary condition for action in the fore, here bolstered by a foregrounded collective. In this the blue-collar heroics become text. If not entirely for his jagged space, Lin deserves praise for the way he communicates with the cast, encouraging them to confidently embody the melodramatic versions of their past, realist selves. This is of course excluding Walker, who fixes the series to a translation of Bigelow's Point Break. His benign professional surfer whose only wish is to be caught up in something bigger than himself still has the sharp flicker of life in his eyes, but no longer twenty eight this is less for sublime annihilation than for meaning here and now. His exchange on fathers is blurted out with the same graceless spontaneity that marked his delivery in the first two films, but now his face lights up with what he's found, thereby forming the heart that flows in either direction, to then, to now, to always. A gorgeous transitional work.