Vin Diesel called “Furious 7” a “labor of love”. It shows. Not when Jason Statham is onscreen, but trust me, you’ll know. Behind the clumsy script, cheesy dialogue, and awkward acting (exhibit A: Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson), there’s something irresistible about this installment. I watched the cars smashing and smiled. I watched Paul Walker in his last ever movie and almost shed a tear. And for over two hours, I couldn’t wipe the big stupid grin off my face. “Furious 7” almost erased the memory of the first three sequels that followed the 2001 original. Or the memory of part 6, which was a total bust. Fans of the series already know the drill. Newbies will probably keep their distance. But to my eyes, the cast has never been more relaxed. They’re enjoying the whole crazy business. And you will too. The new excuse for plot involves a man called Shaw (Statham), bent on avenging the death of his brother, who was killed in the previous installment. That’s cue for director James Wan (“The Conjuring”, “Insidious”) to stage dynamite car chases and action scenes. Nothing classic here, except one crazy scene in Abu Dhabi. But the new energy still holds, even after all these years. “Furious 7” is kick-ass trash that never pretends to be more. Just sit back and behold.