There’s a sturdy formula at work in Joseph Kosinki’s hugely entertaining F1 The Movie, and it has nothing to do with the intricate Formula One racing regulations. The idea of the aging athlete, thief, or cowboy who has one last fill-in-the-blank left in him is at least as old as Sam Peckinpah’s magnificently bloody—and deeply moving—1969 western The Wild Bunch, and probably older. You can argue that there’s a double standard at work here: aging actresses usually get the far less glamorous, and