Mad Max: Fury Road reminds me of a
pretty date with nothing of interest to say.
While Fury tries to offer a philosophy and
political statement, both fail to penetrate even skin deep.
Disclaimer: I
should, before we continue, confess that I never watched any of the previous
Mad Max movies and know next to nothing about them.
Fury stars Tom Hardy as Max because Mel
Gibson, several years ago, drank too much, allowed someone to record him while
he said something anti-Semitic, and now everyone feels sort of uncomfortable
about him.
The movie takes
place in a desert-covered version of the world where oil has become so scarce
that everyone drives around in giant, armored, gas-guzzling vehicles designed
for gang warfare because . . . um . . . just go with it.
One such gang (tens of thousands of members strong) kidnaps Max moments before all five (give or take)
of their women decide to escape and seek out the “green place” ruled by women.
Max also escapes
and reluctantly assists these runaways while their former gang pursues them. The
gang’s leader claimed all these women as his wives, and so he launches a thousand
armored, gas-guzzling war machines to capture them.
Kind of reminds
you of the Iliad, huh?
I’ll start with
the good news.
Fury proves stunningly gorgeous. It
never lacks for action, and the cinematography blows my mind. I constantly
ponder just how the director shot certain scenes.
Now, the bad news.
Other than
Furiosa, who drives the bad guy’s former wives towards the “green place,” these
characters feel flatter than Nebraska.
Max, the supposed
main character, whose name appears in the movie’s title, holds no stake in
anything and can walk away at nearly any point. He tries to, bless his heart, but
circumstances force him to play along . . . at first.
Max soon regains
the option to walk, but he theoretically went through some sort of character
arc when I blinked and now cares about the safety of Furiosa and her insipid
sidekicks.
Nothing causes
this radical change in Max. His character arc results from nothing. Likewise,
one of the gang members becomes a good guy, but for no satisfactory reason.
Max exists in this
movie for no reason beyond its title. The writers could remove him from their
story and (with very little rewriting) their audience would never know the
difference.
The action scenes
(about 99.9% of the movie) and the desert in which they occur feel monotonous.
You could, because of this, scramble these scenes in any order and never
notice.
Max’s world sits
buried in sand, but couldn’t we pass through a scene in which a half-buried
city exists, or perhaps a section of desert bombed into rooster tails of glass?
Something to differentiate the scenes?
The movie tries to
make a statement about a woman trapped in a man’s world filled with violent,
contagious, irrational behavior.
This makes Max’s
already unnecessary attendance problematic, as a violent man rescues the women,
via violence, from the violence of men.
Fury provides a fun film. The action explodes
literally, enough to justify the extra expense of 3D glasses and an Imax screen.
It excels in all things visual, from costumes to cosmetics to setting (notice I
made that singular).
I wish half as
much creativity went into character and plot.
Fury seems a great movie to watch muted
while you blast your favorite rock album and abuse your brain with something
highly illegal.
Thanks for reading.
The third book in my
series, Diaries of Darkwana, recently
arrived on Kindle. You can find the entire series at http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_2?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Darkwana&rh=i%3Aaps%2Ck%3ADarkwana
An
inside look at my novels (such as Daughters of Darkwana, which you can now find on Kindle) at Darkwana.blogspot.com
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