by Ed Travis
Mad Max: Fury Road is the future.
Yes, it takes place in a post-apocalyptic future, nay THE post-apocalyptic future as originated by mad genius writer/director George Miller. But if there is any justice, Fury Road will act as a portend not for the demise of our culture, but rather as a shining example of what vibrant, mega-blockbusters can be. It offers something fresh, on a grand scale, and casually tells a wholly egalitarian tale amidst a wasteland that is nothing short of stunning.
It might strike you as a bold claim to suggest a fourth film in a franchise which is appearing some 30 years after its last installment, swapping out its iconic leading man for a younger and hotter one (Tom Hardy taking the reins from Mel Gibson as the titular Max Rockatansky) and produced within the studio system might be something “fresh”. But George Miller is not your average filmmaker. The term “visionary” is doled out to virtually anyone who makes a big flamboyant movie these days, but Miller deserves the descriptor more than most as his sadomasochistic vision of a future wasteland consumed by the pursuit of gasoline and filled with customized vehicles of mass slaughter has become the default vision that comes to our collective cultures’ minds when we think about a post-apocalypse. Oft-ripped off and never quite duplicated, part of the freshness of Fury Road comes from a reinvigorated Miller (70 years old) returning to a world of his own creation and getting access to all the modern tools needed to take his vision to the next levels.
But honestly, the biggest reason Fury Road feels so fresh is because at its core is Miller’s desire to tell an “extended chase” story. As suggested by Miller in a Q&A held at our screening here in Austin, it was the desire to sprawl a chase sequence (considered by Miller to be the purest form of visual cinema) across the entire runtime of a film which drew him back to the world of Mad Max. There is enormous risk there. How does one develop characters with meaning and purpose when the action never stops? How can a filmmaking team sustain the tension and provide some kind of rhythm to proceedings if the chase is on from the earliest moments until the credits roll? The answers to those questions are on full display in Mad Max: Fury Road. One need only watch this film to be given a schooling in how to draw dimensionality out from characters through their actions. And Miller is among the best at cutting together action and arcs with a rhythm that feels hugely satisfactory. At an earlier Q&A here in Austin after a screening of The Road Warrior, Miller compared successful action sequences to composing music, and the maestro does not relent here; offering respite only as long as needed (and filling those moments of respite with beauty).
Oddly, the violence and desolation of the large scale action sequences are filled with just as much beauty as the down time. Which brings me to the grand scale of Mad Max: Fury Road, another crucial highlight. Miller uses old school stunt techniques and practical vehicles designed by apparent evil geniuses to offer a visceral thrill which evokes all the great moments of his earlier trilogy. But he uses computer enhancement to expand his world and imbue a sort of dissonant beauty to the whole thing. At one point, as human beings are being swept up into the air amidst a raging, lightning-laden sandstorm, goosebumps were induced by the sheer awe and visual splendor of the chaos and violence happening on screen. Sure, this is a different kind of thrill than what comes from watching The Road Warrior and knowing that every single stunt and crash and chase is entirely practical. But what Miller loses in practicality he makes up for in sheer insanity and visual splendor.
How big and complex must a chase sequence be in order to fill out the runtime of a two hour film? Well, storywise the film isn’t all that complex. Max finds himself a captive of the cult-like army of Immortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne who played Toecutter in the original Mad Max), who has amassed an enclave of society on a grander scale than anything yet seen in the Mad Max universe, complete with unlimited access to deep well water and green pastures atop Monument Valley-like rock towers. He rules this citadel with a cultists flair and his legions of soldiers long to die in battle for him in order to reach Valhalla. So when Charlize Theron’s Imperator Furiosa, Joe’s top general, escapes with Joe’s most decked out war truck and all of his slave-wives, the chase begins. While that story isn’t so complex, Miller adds layer upon layer of complexity through the dynamics between a handful of characters. Miller noted that everyone in the story is a commodity, allowing the balance of power to shift in a flash in each massive set piece. Immortan Joe wants his wives back unharmed; they are his property. Nicholas Hoult’s Nux (just one of the horde of Immortan acolytes who happens to get so intertwined with Max that he ends up a fully fleshed out character) seeks the glory of Valhalla, but begins to realize he’s mere fodder for Joe. Furiosa seeks redemption for a past veiled in mystery and which quite smartly is only ever partially revealed. Max, we are told in brief narration at the beginning, seeks only survival. Character interactions become micro-transactions as commodities are bought and sold and the constant one-upmanship of the chase always feels fresh and ripe with comedy and character.
Then there’s the magnitude of these chase sequences. What people buy tickets for when they make plans to see a Mad Max movie. With a practical fleet of some hundred vehicles, Immortan Joe’s cavalry handily tops anything seen in the previous films. Each car has a story. Each truck has a purpose. There’s even a truck that projects the music of war, with a cadre of drummers and an insane electric guitarist mounted atop it. Joe’s horde is always a looming threat which can be heard at great distances due to this remarkable vehicle.
It feels as though not only did George Miller and his team have 30 years to come up with new and creative ways to fortify and kit out vehicles to inflict massive damage and maximum defense, but the characters themselves did, too. Not only does each vehicle have its own story, but it has its own use and function within the narrative action. Miller sets up hundreds of moving parts and crashes them together with the glee of a small child, but the storytelling prowess of a master. This upgrade of weaponry only results in moment after moment of action film glee as flaming/explosive spears are tossed, soldiers ride atop tall/flexible poles in order to snatch or rescue people from other vehicles, or as motorcycles criss-cross through the air hurling grenades. These post-apocalyptic barbarians have thought of everything to inflict as much vehicular mayhem as possible, all to the delight of a slavering audience.
The rhythm, the scale, the one-upmanship, the character building, the layered world of Miller’s own making… all shot with as many real actors on real vehicles as possible, with computer imagery enhancing and enriching the image… the post-apocalypse has simply never been more beautiful.
And it is the dynamic between Hardy’s Max and Theron’s Furiosa which rounds out the best elements, showing this to be a film pointing the way to a new kind of blockbuster. Look at all the marketing for the movie. Theron is top-billed along with Hardy, and Furiosa proves a fantastic counterpoint to Max. Where Max is haunted by the failures of his past and those whom he wasn’t able to protect, condemned to forever traverse the wastelands alone, Furiosa is intimately connected to a tribe of people and risking everything to free Joe’s slave-brides from his clutches. Where Max dwells at the almost reptilian level of survival as existence, Furiosa lives for redemption. They’re shown repeatedly to be an even match physically and mentally. Their relationship going from murderous to deeply reliant upon one another almost exclusively through action: Extended chase scene as character developer. Over and over Max and Furiosa match wits until that more elusive bond than even physical love in the wasteland appears: trust. Mad Max: Fury Road offers up a male and a female protagonist, both of whom are essential to this story, and each of whom are given equal screen time. Never shoehorned into some kind of sexual romance, the bond of trust forged through fire is a hugely compelling thrust of this film and offers something profound to a modern day culture who is still so stunted in their vision for how diverse and complex female characters can and should be.
George Miller has pulled off a remarkable feat in his return to the wasteland. He’s schooled dozens of younger filmmakers in just how insane and thorough a vision can be. He’s captured the kineticism and speed of the original trilogy and then used modern technology to deepen and enhance the action. He’s successfully crafted a sustained chase film set in a world of blood and fire, but he’s shown the way forward for studios and filmmakers to craft unique visions filled with complex characters for males and females alike. He’s made the wasteland equal parts terrifying and beautiful.
Who says the future has to be post-apocalyptic?
And I’m Out.
