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If there is such a thing as too much cinema, as overdosing on it even, I think a film like Mad Max: Fury Road might be what someone is talking about. From the first frame until the credits roll, every single second of it is blasted to 15, and pumped full of adrenaline. It’s a crazed, gorgeous piece of action film-making, with coherent sequences that clearly delineate who is where and what is going on, and surrounds them in piercing colors and textures.
This isn’t so much a reboot of a beloved but long dormant franchise as it is a complete makeover of it. If this movie was a high school student, it would be a carhead that huffs paint and pierces himself when bored. It’s an invigorating and hellish ride, a rollercoaster which threatens to throw itself off of the tracks at any given second, spitting off sparks every step of the way.
The Mad Max franchise has always placed him as an outsider, a supporting player in whichever episodic narrative he has become entangled in. Fury Road quickly captures Max (Tom Hardy), throws him in the den of Immortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne) and his War Boys, used for blood transfusions for the ailing War Boys. He escapes, and runs into Imperator Furiosa (Charlize Theron) and the runaway wives of Joe. Joining forces with them, the motley crew try to survive the vast desert, reach a promised land, and escape from Joe who is hot on their heels.
The entire Mad Max franchise has hidden away the threat of violence against females, and Fury Road places those fears at the center stage. Presenting a world in which a group of avenging females gain agency and dismantle the oppressive patriarchy of their world. They don’t replace it with a matriarchy, but with a hinted at third option. Immortan Joe’s world is explained through visual cues, with water as a precious commodity, given freely among the upper class but rationed to the lower classes. Borrowing from Metropolis, Joe’s haven is a paradise at the top of a large structure, and a dirty, grubby land at the bottom, burdened with overpopulation and little resources. The ending sees them restoring some kind of leveling playing field.
Fury Road is also a film which gives us a full spectrum of female characters, each developed enough to make clear their wants, desires, and needs. Furiosa gets the majority of the screen time, and she’s one hell of a character. I would happily watch another several dozen films with her in the lead character. She recalls Sigourney Weaver’s Ripley, but is a decidedly original and unique creation. I want a movie detailing her culture, their backstory, everything.
This theme of female strength presents itself in the various action sequences. An early one sees a gigantic sandstorm conjuring itself when Furiosa and the wives need it. This sandstorm is like a physical manifestation of maternal rage and protection. It’s a thrilling piece of film-making. The colors in this sequence, like the rest of the film, are saturated to the point of eyeball searing. The swirling color palette is kind of pure cinematic distillation that we go to the movies for.
God, I loved this movie. I could go on praising the entire thing even more, but I think I have made the case.
