National Post (National Edition)
Fury Road a ridiculous masterpiece
My eldest kid had just hit his teens when I took him to see Mad Max: Fury Road in the theatres. His action-movie experiences had until then mostly been limited to Star Wars and Marvel films, with a dash of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Maybe a Transformers film or two, before that franchise went right off the rails.
I didn't provide any guidance about what he was about to see, because in truth I couldn't give any. All I knew was that the early reviews were great and that it was set in the same post-apocalyptic desert world as the original Mad Max films, but couldn't be entirely tied to them because 30 years had passed.
Fifteen or so frantic minutes in, I leaned over and asked him if he knew what was going on. “Not really,” he said. “But it's awesome!”
It remains, I think, a pretty solid explanation for why Fury Road is such a fantastic film. It has a story, to be sure, but it is wrapped in a rollicking, imaginative ride, a literal one, that, but for a couple of quick breathers, is an intense showpiece from almost the opening scene to the last. It's the movie equivalent of Stanley Cup playoff overtime, which has itself been compared to leaping out of an airplane while riding a motorcycle. And high on cocaine.
Fury Road is a thrill ride, is what I'm saying. Our hero Max is captured right off the jump by a bunch of marauding fellows, imprisoned and used as a blood donor. His captors call him a blood bag, which really underscores the unlikelihood of a fair trial and eventual release. It's quickly established that the gang is beholden to a cult leader, Immortan Joe, who has respiratory and skin problems but does control the water supply, the source of his power. Next comes Furiosa, a bad-ass truck driver who is leading a supply run. (There is a shortage of everything in this world except sand and orange lens filters.) But, wait! Furiosa is actually double-crossing ol' Joe and has stowed away his harem of wives. Joe is greatly displeased and a convoy heads off in pursuit, with Blood Bag Max strapped to the front of one of the vehicles rather awkwardly.
This all happens with such quick pacing that it feels like it could have been one of those “previously on” catchup scenes on a TV series. But all the beats are hit, the main points are established, and then it is off to the races. It is a blessed relief, in the age of mega-franchises that meander through trilogies or take an entire film just to a establish a character who is a bit player in the subsequent ensemble cast, that Fury Road goes instead for a perfectly simple world: good guy, good guy, bad guy, let's do this.
And it's on the road where the movie really gets wild and crazy, by asking the question: what if we had chase scenes, but there were, like, no roads? Fury Road trades the Euro cobblestones of some of film's great vehicle set pieces for the wide-open desert, which eliminates a lot of the constraints of a usual pursuit. The vehicles can be large and unwieldy, and often very spiky, with an esthetic that is straight out of a blacksmith's fever dreams.
Vehicles can jump and soar and bounce without any worry for whether they might stay on the road, and in a signature masterstroke some of the bad guys sway on giant poles to get from one moving monstrosity to another. It's a hilarious bit of inventiveness, and one that would only work in the desert. You could see Tom Cruise trying this in the Mission: Impossible franchise right up until he smacks off the exit sign for Tallahassee on the I-95.
One of the vehicles, an 18-wheel truck, also has a guitar player, synced with the soundtrack, who shoots flames from the neck of his instrument while attached to the roof of the cab. Does this seem like a particularly helpful job, in terms of a vehicular pursuit? It does not. Does it seem like a good use of fuel, given the whole desert-wasteland-with-scarce-resources thing? It does not. Is it cool as hell? It absolutely is.
Fury Road is also not without its gravitas. For a film with little in the way of dialogue, it still manages to pack in some redemptive arcs, some tragedy and some relief. Max, who is unidentified for almost the whole of the film, until a tender moment near its conclusion, is cut from the classic mould of an old Western, the brooding self-interested loner who eventually finds altruism. Joe is a crazed villain with a very large adult son. Furiosa is what sets it apart, the co-protagonist that gives the whole breakneck spectacle its emotional heart. There are no expository monologues about time travel, no sarcastic barbs between the leads, no CGI aliens or complicated references to the expanded Max universe. There are plans in the works for both a prequel and a sequel, with creator George Miller saying they had loads of extra material, which isn't that surprising given the simplicity of Fury Road.
I am conflicted about this. The quiet nod that ends Fury Road seems like a fine way to leave it.