Damn.
Here’s what I remember about Paul Walker, “Fast & Furious” star, “Eight Below” bro, etc.
He called you “Bro.” You talked to Walker, that’s what he called you. And he seemed to mean it.
He spoke Surfer Speak because he looked and lived the part. And as self-serious as he could be, it was all good. Good films, bad films, all good.
He was 40 years old, not having the easiest time of it, despite having those “Fast/Furious” pictures to pay the bills. I just reviewed his latest film, “Hours”, due out in a week or so. He appears to have one, maybe two pictures in the can.
That’s too young, and a chilling reminder that all the physics-defying stunts of those “Fast/Furious” movies cannot compete with real life.
I chatted with him about the sled dog movie, and a couple of other pictures over the years. A nice fellow, lived a bit of the roles he played. Apparently, including the car pictures. But he was a passenger in the Porsche he died in.
Roger Rodas was driving the hopped up Porsche Carrera GT when they hit a pole and the car burst into flames.
He did a lot of cheesy C-movies outside of the “Fast” movies, the gist of my review of “Hours.” He liked not having to share the screen with Vin Diesel. “Vehicle 19” and “Hours” both had that solo performance thing working for them. Paul, in a van in one, all alone in an abandoned hospital with his baby girl during Hurricane Katrina in the other.
He was good in “Pawn Shop Chronicles” last summer. Out there.
And now he’s gone. Shocking. And sad.
Movie Nation 