A Hell of a Ride
Mad Max: Fury Road
There is something special about George Miller’s fourth entry to his seminal Mad Max franchise. It’s not because of the fact that the film was released 30 years after the latest installment. In this day and age of remakes, reboots, and reiterations, who would be surprised? It also isn’t because of the excellent performances by Tom Hardy, Charlize Theron, or Nicholas Hoult. They are, after all, accomplished actors in their own rights, with Hardy in particular garnering critical acclaim in his most recent films. It isn’t even because of the film’s brave reinvention of the titular character, with Hardy transitioning into a more rugged, more animalistic character than Mel Gibson’s toned-down Max Rockatansky. What makes Mad Max: Fury Road so special is its brazenness to do what it does in the present landscape of Hollywood action films. It is unique in its courage to break free of genre conventions, infuse its narrative with a distinctly feminist undercurrent, and just challenge the notion of what a contemporary action film should be.
Sure, the post-apocalyptic landscape may have already been used — and abused — by others that have preceded it, but Fury Road builds a world completely different from all of them. Dizzying whirlwinds pockmark an already-barren land, while a surreal swamp emerges out of nowhere, complete with inhuman creatures, walking on stilts, scavenging for whatever they find in the darkness. The people in this world are barely people. Nicholas Hoult is almost unrecognizable as Nux, a “War Boy” painted to resemble a skeleton, an engine permanently etched on his chest. Many others are like him, and no two are the same. Immortan Joe’s (Hugh Keays-Byrne) armor, transparent and flimsy, seems more like protection against skin disease than bullets or arrows. With his posse are his “brothers”, one resembling a pig with an iron nose, another, a gun-obsessed executioner with bullets for teeth and bandoliers for clothes.
You just feel that there is more to Fury Road’s lore than meets than eye, and that there is a lot to learn outside of the celluloid. If you’ve seen the original Mad Max, be warned: this is not it. While Mel Gibson’s Mad Max moved about in idyllic landscapes, along structures quickly abandoned in the face of apocalypse, Tom Hardy’s Max ignites the action in a world without roads, without structures, without laws, without civilization. In a way, it follows in the footsteps of The Road Warrior and Beyond Thunderdome, but it is miles ahead in its vision. George Miller’s world-building skills are simply amazing. It would be better to scrap everything you know about the original Mad Max, and say hello to Miller’s new, more terrifying, more grotesque creation.
As with any other effective film, however, the world merely serves as a backdrop to the actions that occur within. Lest I spoil much of the plot, suffice to say it follows the silent, feral Max Rockatansky (Tom Hardy), as he is thrust in the middle of a conflict between the grotesque Immortan Joe and his leading general Imperator Furiosa (Charlize Theron), as she struggles to break free of his oppressive grip. Within this narrative, the action remains relentless. Even before the title sequence, George Miller already introduces us to the film’s pace, pleasantly unyielding and littered with set-pieces that will — and I am sure of this — leave you wide-eyed, mouth agape, uttering expletives under your breath.
Of course, it wouldn’t be Mad Max without the vehicles. Most of the action takes place with Imperator Furiosa’s War Rig. Massive and unwieldy, the truck barrels down Fury Road’s landscape like a bat out of (a literal) hell. Max and his crew traverse its innards and its roofdecks as they fight off War Boys armed with guns, flamethrowers, and exploding spears. Immortan Joe’s Gigahorse is equally over-the-top, with two 50s-era cars piled on top of each other, forming a monstrous tank-like machine in a relentless pursuit of the War Rig. One scene, in particular, saw these trucks braving a storm, complete with tornadoes, thunder, and a whole lot of sand. Needless to say, it is massive and spectacular, with cars (and bodies) flying everywhere as the camera pans, zooms, and swivels around the action. I saw the film in 2D and this scene kept me wondering whether I should have pumped a little extra for 3D or IMAX. This sequence alone is worth the price of admission.
To be fully honest, I was disappointed when I left the theater. I was disappointed not because of the film itself, but because I wondered why there was no other like it. Action films have, in the past few years, been concerned with spies, superheroes, and gangsters. Post-apocalyptic films, on the other hand, have been mostly concerned with zombies, save for exceptional ones such as The Road. Miller goes back to his roots and provides us with a genuine, no-holds-barred action film that supplies us with one spectacular set-piece after another.
Yes, Mad Max is absurd, but in this absurdity lies its lasting appeal. With the action films today demanding logic, subtlety, and a superhero cape, George Miller’s latest opus is an elaborate dare to be different, to break from the mold and challenge that which has been tried and tested in the box office. Needless to say, Miller succeeds, and one wonders when another film like this will again catch us off guard, because Mad Max is one hell of a ride.
