Most film snobs are gross hypocrites. I know I am. I couldn’t care less about those wisecracking Marvel movies or DC’s brooding caped superheroes. But then there are the “Mad Max” pictures, George Miller’s crazy post-apocalyptic trilogy of Outback Westerns, which during the ’80s gained international recognition for Mel Gibson (no more on that subject, I promise), sand, speed and arid humor. They’re violent and nearly nihilistic cartoons, no more plausible than “The Avengers,” and I love them.
After porking around in Babe-land for the better part of three decades, Miller is now back with “Mad Max: Fury Road.” Tom Hardy takes the title role. Charlize Theron plays a buzzcut-wearing, lethal, one-handed turncoat named Furiosa.
Though this movie makes me feel like driving fast through the desert, there’s no way I’d stop to offer either of them a ride. Regardless how thrilling the action in this near-constant chase movie, Max and Furiosa haven’t got anything interesting to say.
Hardy spends the first 30 minutes — after a prologue explaining Earth’s environmental ruin — silently wearing a muzzle. Recurring nightmares hint at Max’s tortured past, while Furiosa eventually explains her slavery and revolt.
Miller and his co-writers have some sort of dense desert mythology in mind, with internecine conflict among rival families: one has the oil, another the water, the third the bullets. Or that’s my best guess. The accents and engine noise make the dialogue and exposition mostly unintelligible, and I don’t think Miller really cares.
Max is swiftly captured by the water-controlling clan, led by a masked Geezer of Oz dubbed Immortan Joe. He rules his slave-labor kingdom with a pasty-white caste called the “War Boys,” who look like Nosferatu after bulking up at the gym. (Among these fanatical brainwashed mole rats, Nux — British actor Nicholas Hoult — will eventually switch sides.)
Furiosa is the first to betray her master, stealing a tanker truck containing five of his nubile wives, at least one them pregnant. (Babies are male property, like gasoline and water.) Bound for her female-ruled homeland, Furiosa and Max inevitably form an alliance; the rest of the movie is essentially “Stagecoach” with explosions — though not much humor. (Miller’s still, silent moments have equal power, but he seldom pauses.)
“Fury Road” is masterfully kinetic and often downright berserk, which oughtn’t be surprising. Miller’s first three movies, made between 1979 and 1985, were accomplished sans CGI. Now, without undercranking the camera’s frame rate, he has the ability to throttle seamlessly between action fast and slow, shooting from any perspective. And because “Fury Road” is designed for 3-D (yes, worth the ticket price), that means endless amounts of sand, car parts, spears, harpoons, grenades, chain saws, and fists being flung in your face … I mean Max’s face.
And, frankly, the more stuff being thrown in your face, the less time you have to worry about the plot holes or rushed heap of an ending. (An eager preview audience seemed too exhausted to applaud.)
“Fury Road” will please fans of Miller’s original trilogy (which honestly turned rather campy come “Thunderdome”), of Hardy, and of Theron. As it did me. And yet for all the daredevil moments of dangling and leaping between speeding vehicles, I wish — speaking of Theron — the movie had taken a real risk. Why not Mad Maxine?
“Mad Max: Fury Road” (3 stars)
The post-apocalyptic Aussie Western returns, with Tom Hardy in Mel Gibson’s old role and Charlize Theron as a one-handed killing machine with a buzzcut. The dialogue is unintelligible and the plot is full of holes, but that doesn’t really matter, thanks to director George Miller’s action-movie mastery and the super-buff stars.
Rating: R, for nonstop, intensely violent action.
Showing: Alderwood, Cinebarre, Everett Stadium, Galaxy Monroe, Marysville, Stanwood Cinemas, Pacific Place, Sundance Cinemas, Thornton Place, Woodinville, Cascade Mall
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