Movie review: The joy of Carmageddon in ‘Mad Max: Fury Road’

In 1979, a low-budget Australian film called “Mad Max” introduced the world to Highway Pursuit Officer Max Rockatansky, played by a then-unknown actor named Mel Gibson. Set in an unspecified future devastated by nuclear war, the film saw Max seeking brutal vengeance on the motorcycle gang that murdered his family.

Written and directed by former emergency room doctor George Miller, the film’s low budget gave it a grungy appeal that, combined with innovative camera moves and high velocity car stunts, made for an altogether visceral experience. The result? A massive hit that led to two sequels, namely, “Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior” (1981), and “Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome” (1985) – the latter of which made the mistake of adopting an intentionally lighter tone to attract a mainstream audience.

“Fury Road” was a long time coming, with plans for a fourth “Mad Max” film meant to push through following Miller’s directing of 1998’s “Babe: Pig in the City” (yes, you read that right). External factors ranging from the destruction of the World Trade Center to Mel Gibson’s public meltdowns and freak heavy rainfall leaving intended desert landscapes lush with greenery. Biding his time, Miller refined his ideas for “Fury Road” and made two “Happy Feet” (yes, you read that right) movies, one of which he won an Academy Award for.

“Fury Road” opens with a monologue that reintroduces us to our favorite Road Warrior as he takes in a gorgeously-lensed desert landscape, his trusty V8 Interceptor (a modified 1973 Ford Falcon XB GT that was blown up in “Mad Max 2”, but then, Miller has been deliberately vague on whether or not this is a sequel or a reboot), by his side. Still mourning the death of his family, Max’s soliloquy is interrupted when he is taken captive by a gang known as the War Boys. The War Boys take Max back to their community, where their leader, the impressively-monickered Immortan Joe (for reference, former foes in the series have included Toecutter, Lord Humungus, Master Blaster, and, well, Tina Turner), rules over desperate peasants through a combination of force and restricted access to the water they need to survive.

The plot shifts into gear when one of Immortan Joe’s lieutenants, Imperator Furiosa (Charlize Theron, resplendence showing through several layers of dirt and grime), at the wheel of an 18-wheeler truck known as the War Rig, goes AWOL on a routine gas run, beginning a chase that makes up the bulk of the film. We soon learn that Furiosa’s cargo is comprised of five “breeders”, healthy females (including Rosie Huntington Whiteley and Zoe Kravitz) formerly held captive by Immortan Joe in the hopes of producing a viable heir.

Enraged, Immortan Joe forms a war party that looks like the greatest hardcore 80s metal album cover that never was, complete with outlandish vehicles, fanatical minions in bondage gear, and live musical accompaniment in the form of drummers and a guitarist with a double neck axe that actually shoots flames (I couldn’t make this up, even if I tried). As the war party intensifies its hunt for Furiosa and her fellow fugitives, Max is forced to decide which side he’s on if he wants to stay alive.

As Max, Tom Hardy lacks the effortless charisma Mel Gibson brought to the role that made him a superstar. While the character has always been a man of decidedly few words, Hardy fails to muster up the presence necessary here to hold your attention when he isn’t struggling for his life and/or hitting people in the face. Thankfully, he is excellent in the numerous scenes that have him struggling for his life and/or hitting people in the face, because the few times his Max has to speak calmly, Hardy’s subdued intonation brought to mind his oft-derided (befuddled English uncle) “Bane” voice. In a film loaded with excess, Hardy’s decision to play Max closer to the lone drifter, “Man with No Name” archetype, shows us that less is definitely more.

On the other hand, we have Charlize Theron’s Imperator Furiosa (God bless whatever fever dream Miller gets these names from), who steals pretty much every scene she’s in. Outfitted with a prosthetic arm, a shaved head, and a no-nonsense demeanor, Furiosa is easily the film’s breakout character (well, except for the flamethrower guitar guy, he’s just a whole other level of awesome). Internet trolls decrying the ongoing emasculation of the traditional (male) action hero notwithstanding, make no mistake: Furiosa is an utter and complete badass from beginning to end, and that is in no way a bad thing.

Hidden behind a fright wig, breathing apparatus and medal-bedecked armor, the Royal Shakespearean Company’s Hugh Keays-Byrne plays Immortan Joe. Keays-Byrne is no stranger to the franchise, having previously portrayed Toecutter, the motorcycle gang leader who murdered Max’s family in 1979’s original film. Here, the veteran thespian gets to bark orders from Immortan Joe’s ride of choice: two 1959 Cadillac Devilles welded together and mounted onto a monster truck chassis (clearly, subtlety was a casualty of the nuclear apocalypse).

Admittedly, for a professional critic, it can be considered somewhat unbecoming to engage in the sort of hyperbolic statements best left to tweets and DVD covers, but in the case of “Fury Road”, the use of such language is not only called for, it is entirely the hell appropriate.

Simply put, this is an unapologetically over-the-top thrill ride that brings “Mad Max’s” post-apocalyptic dystopia back to the big screen in eye-bleedingly beautiful fashion. Under the watchful eye of series creator/director George Miller, “The Road Warrior” has been retooled for the 21st century with a high-octane return to form that plays like the very best “Heavy Metal” strips brought to rip-roaring life.

While there are occasional shout outs to previous films in the series (weapons within reach of the gas tank, music box mechanisms, little people in positions of power), “Fury Road” is very much a standalone, requiring no prior knowledge to enjoy the automotive insanity unfolding onscreen. Indeed, from the very first glimpses we get of Max’s incredibly depressing, yet starkly beautiful world, the notion of survivors scavenging the remains of a nuclear-ravaged world in order to survive is as indelible as it ever was.

Maybe it was the extra time, or maybe the filmmakers just knew exactly what they were doing to begin with, but the almost-maniacal method and detail paid to everything you see on screen is nothing less than jaw-dropping. Made with admirably sparing use of computer generated imagery (CGI), there is a tangible feel to the proceedings here that has been missing from most modern blockbusters.

Indeed, one gets the impression that George Miller deliberately used his hard-earned Hollywood clout to put together the sort of movie he saw in his head all those years ago, but had neither the time nor the resources to create. Now, three decades later, he has crafted the chase movie to end all chase movies, packing it to the gills with audaciously-conceived set pieces, (mostly) practical stunts, and all-around vehicular insanity that not only serve notice to nearly every single so-called action film of the last few years, they straight up put them to shame.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is the “Mad Max” movie we never knew we needed, and now that it’s here, all we can do is hope that it doesn’t take another thirty years for us to see the next one.

How’s that for hyperbole? — BM, GMA News

"Mad Max: Fury Road" is now showing nationwide, and is rated R-16.