What does it take to chase a dream when the world’s already written you off? The World’s Fastest Indian (2005), directed by Roger Donaldson, answers with a sun-bleached, grease-stained portrait of Burt Munro, a real-life New Zealand eccentric who, in his sixties, roared across Utah’s Bonneville Salt Flats to chase a land-speed record on his 1920 Indian Scout motorcycle. This isn’t just a story of speed it’s a defiant middle finger to age, doubt, and conformity, and it still revs up audiences in 2025.

Anthony Hopkins’ performance as Munro is the film’s beating heart. He doesn’t just play the quirky, stubborn Kiwi; he is Munro, all weathered charm and dogged optimism. Every squint, every mumble, every glint of mischief in his eyes sells a man who’s half-genius, half-lunatic, tinkering in his shed while dreaming of glory. Hopkins balances humor with quiet pathos, especially in scenes where Munro’s health falters or locals dismiss him as a relic. You root for him not because he’s an underdog, but because his sheer belief makes giving up unthinkable.

Donaldson’s direction keeps the pace lean and the visuals vivid. The New Zealand scenes burst with small-town warmth think dusty roads and nosy neighbors while Bonneville’s stark white flats feel like an alien planet, amplifying Munro’s quixotic quest. The cinematography, with its wide shots of endless salt and tight close-ups of Munro’s weathered hands, captures both the vastness of his dream and the gritty reality of his hustle. But the score? It’s serviceable, not transcendent. J. Peter Robinson’s music hums along, but lacks the emotional punch to match the film’s soaring highs, a missed chance to elevate key moments.

Why does this film still resonate? In an era obsessed with youth and instant gratification, Munro’s story a geezer chasing a singular passion with zero clout feels like a rebellion against TikTok’s 15-second fame cycle. It’s a reminder that grit and heart can outlast trends. Yet, the film isn’t flawless. Some secondary characters, like the American love interest, feel like pit stops rather than fully fleshed-out players, and the pacing drags slightly before the final race. Still, these are minor dents in a machine that hums with purpose.

For today’s viewers, The World’s Fastest Indian is a love letter to those who dare to keep going, no matter how late the hour. It’s not about the finish line it’s about the ride. And what a ride it is.