The F1 Movie has taken every opportunity to diminish the work of women in motorsport. Its worldwide release has prompted many women in the industry to push back and show exactly how much invisible labour they provide to this iconic sport.
There’s a moment in The F1 Movie where Sonny Hayes, Brad Pitt’s controversially ageing driver, delivers a monologue about grit and determination. “We can’t win if we don’t try,” he insists, countering his team principal’s bleak assessment that their underdog car stands no chance amidst a sea of billion-dollar machines. As the camera sweeps across roaring grandstands and shimmering tarmac, it’s hard not to get swept up in the spectacle. This, we’re told, is the pinnacle of motorsport: speed, drama, passion.
But as the credits rolled, that quote stayed with me. Not because of what it meant for Hayes’ redemption arc, but because of what it revealed about the film’s own failures.
We can’t win if we don’t try. Women, too, can’t seem to win when the men behind the camera don’t even try to make them part of the story. Director Joseph Kosinski’s sporting epic envisions an F1 paddock where women are at best props. At worst, they’re invisible. Two supporting female characters are written predictably into the plot: Kate McKenna, APXGP’s technical director, whose impressive title is reduced to little more than romantic tension with Hayes; and a second, played by Simone Ashley, who didn’t even survive the final edit.
For a sport proudly boasting a growing female fandom (almost 41% of its global base), this erasure feels less like an oversight and more like a regression. But this isn’t the world of Formula 1 I recognise.
Behind the noise
Earlier this year, during Sky Sport’s Grand Prix coverage, a quiet but powerful segment aired in response to the film. Bernie Collins, former Aston Martin strategist and now Sky pundit, spoke with the women at the heart of the engineering process that brings F1 to life.
These professionals include Krystina Emmanouilides, a CFD engineer at Sauber whose work ensures their car can compete with aerodynamic giants like Mercedes and McLaren. Then there’s Hannah Schmitz at Red Bull Racing: calm under pressure, dictating pit stop strategies that can make or break a championship. When Max Verstappen celebrated yet another victory in Monaco, it was Schmitz’s voice in his ear, calculating tyre degradation to the millisecond.
Off the track, McLaren’s Chief Marketing Officer, Louise McEwen, and Business Operations Director, Stephanie Carlin, ensure their team remains one of the most talked about on the 2025 grid, through strategic branding and operational excellence.
None of these stories made it into Kosinski’s grand vision. Instead, Kate McKenna appears unable to build a competitive race car until Pitt’s character (fresh from skimming a car manual) steps in to “fix” it. The only woman in Hayes’ crew makes a careless mistake her very first moment on screen. And the team’s female PR manager is portrayed as equally incompetent.
Beyond the Pitt, F1 is propped up by female labour at every level. An anonymous source, who oversaw onboarding during the Silverstone Grand Prix, told The New Feminist that there are women in every sector of a race weekend.
“There are lots of women working in a variety of roles,” they confirm, from logistic managers, to catering and HR teams and media officers. In fact, just a quick look at the 2025 gender pay gap report shows that women make up 38% of the workforce in Formula 1. That’s not a trivial figure. Yet Hollywood reduced these women to background noise.
Hollywood’s old habits
It’s not that The F1 Movie lacked expertise. Consultants from every corner of the paddock contributed to the production. Sir Lewis Hamilton proudly offered technical advice; his barrier-breaking foundation, Mission 44, championed the very diversity that was being erased on screen.
“I remember vividly just how difficult it was when I was a kid. Through the work we’re doing, we have the chance to build a better future for today’s young people, both in the UK and around the world,” Hamilton has said about his project to support underrepresented groups in motorsport.
And yet, in Kosinski’s version of F1, masculinity is synonymous with genius. Women orbit as love interests, stereotypes, or clumsy professionals.
It’s the same issue we saw with The Minecraft Movie, where Hollywood looked at a genderless sandbox game and somehow gave us a story centred on yet another male hero. It’s the same pitfall: creativity in the real world constrained by storytelling habits too old and too safe to question.
A silver lining
If Kosinski’s film had truly been a love letter to Formula 1, it would have celebrated its unsung heroines. It would have shown a character like Laura Müller, F1’s first female race engineer, confidently calling strategy for Haas. Or someone mirroring the career of Abbi Pulling, tearing through the F1 Academy to become Britain’s next great hope for a female driver in the top tier.
But perhaps there’s a strange kind of gratitude to be found in this erasure.
Because in the wake of The F1 Movie’s failure to represent women meaningfully, a spotlight has swung onto a whole community that might otherwise have been ignored. Bernie Collins’ empowering segment on live TV. The wave of outrage from previously quiet female Formula 1 fans online. Even this article wouldn’t exist if not for the vacuum created by a film too timid to tell their stories.
So, yes, I encourage you to watch The F1 Movie. Immerse yourself in the spectacle. But afterwards, pay attention. Use this article to point out everything they got wrong. Start saying the names responsible for F1’s invisible labour. Because maybe, just maybe, this disappointing film has finally done what it never intended to do: it has forced women in motorsport into the spotlight where they’ve always belonged.
