Instead of trying to make a film that could appeal equally to viewers of all ages (along the lines of “Star Wars” or “Raiders of the Lost Ark” or the later “Harry Potter” films), they have instead set their sights almost exclusively on eight-year-old viewers and no one else--everything is brightly colored to the point of garishness, every plot point is repeated over and over until even the slowest learners in the audience are up to speed and Spritle and Chim-Chim, who were basically the Jar-Jar Binks’ of their day, are given far more screen time than even their most indulgent fans might find endurable.
The races go on for quite a long time; anyone bored by the Podrace from "Star Wars" is going to have a terrible time with "Speed Racer."
Their roles aren't especially demanding in the what's-my-motivation department, but the performances in Speed Racer have a surprising liveliness considering the amount of VFX work that was added in later -- compare Hirsch and Ricci's presence here to the uncompromisingly wooden turns of similarly winning actors like Natalie Portman and Ewan McGregor in the recent Star Wars trilogy.
Other scenes, most notably those involving Speed's younger brother and his pet chimpanzee, are the biggest things to tip the annoying scale since Jar Jar Binks hit "Star Wars."
As with Lucas's latter Star Wars pictures, it often seems as though background and foreground have traded places, with the former the subject of the filmmakers' passion and the latter treated as a tiresome necessity.
The notion that the Wachowskis are reinventing cinema "again" is a crock: they firmly base their technique on George Lucas' methodology for his latter-day Star Wars trilogy: filming entirely on sparse green-screen sets later digitally painted into existence.