Ultimately, the star of this film is the 24 Hours of Le Mans itself, the people who attend and the rustic beauty of France. It was shot in 1971, so it's a bit like time traveling to go people watching. With almost no plot, barely any dialog and little to no character development, this is a film where you can put whatever music you want to listen to on & space out/nod out/smoke out/dropout. However, don't take your decision lightly. In doing so, you will miss the hypnotic roar of these racing machines and McQueen's distinctively flat delivery; all of which crescendoed me into a zen frame of mind which stayed with me long after the credits had rolled.

By the way, great helmets in the movie. All the retro-looking helmets you see today on cafe racer riding hipsters were state of the art then.

This post goes out to Jamie Wolfcale and his Drive Cult cultists. Vroom, vroom, you freaking car junkies!