Spoilers. (Well, hardly, at this late stage of the game)
It's
time I spoke up. For the few. For those of us who
are fans but have not been blinded by the nitrous-fuelled
hype-machine.
Mad
Max: Furry Load, is not as good as “mastermind” George Miller
would have us believe. The use of the word mastermind alone should
send up warning flares. If the mastermind epithet is accurate of
anything, it's the brain behind the marketing juggernaut. Or, maybe the editor. Margaret Sixel famously had to churn through nearly 500 hours of film to distil the final 120 minutes. I
don't know if that indicates her remarkable patience or
whether Miller has spent so long out of the game, he has forgotten how to say “Cut, that's a wrap.”
Attempting
Mad Max again should be undertaken as carefully as, say, attempting
Star Wars again. (Bunch of us waiting to have our hearts broken there, is all I can say.) And George, you can't just do away with major characters on a whim.
Here's
the top ten list of rides in the Action/Sci-fi film world that are also characters, as
voted by Grey Area is Right.
1) Millennium
Falcon (Star Wars)
2) The
V8 Interceptor (Mad Max)
3) Enterprise
(Star Trek - not differentiating which one. We're talking about
the spirit, not nerdy detail.)
4) Most
Batmobiles, other than ones driven by Clooney or Kilmer.
5) Thunderbird
2 (“Thunderbums are go!”. Oh, how we laughed as 5-years-olds)
6) The
Liberator (Blake's 7)
7- 10) Blah, blah, blah. Shan't bore you with the rest but here's something interesting.
Coming in way down the list:
48)
TARDIS*
Look
at number two! Incontrovertible proof that Miller could not take this lightly. The Interceptor is a cultural icon. The only time I've ever cried at a film was when it crashed and burned in MMII. The airy-fairy
way in which he dispenses with the V8 is like saying,
“Whistler's Mother? She looks good on the floor. I
thought the rocking chair was a touch too much.”
It
does supply the impetus for a great line from Max, though, and that
was almost enough for me.
"First they take my blood. Now they take my car?!"
Pity
though. Many of us wanted to see more of ol' Black Beauty.
The film:
Nothing,
not a thing, makes sense if you examine it. But you shouldn't.
As silly as it is, and it is plenty silly, it
is a gorgeous piece of art.
Charlize
Theron is faultless as an action heroin. She had me at Aeon Flux
anyway - she does it again.
Quentin
Kenihan is inexplicably present, playing what else but a genetic
misshap in a wheelchair. (Wow, what a jarring note his sudden appearance was. “Is
that...? Could that be...? I thought he was dead. Didn't he sneeze
and his head fell off or something? Well. Good on him. Wait, what
just happened?”)
Tom
Hardy channels Max incredibly well. If I was to criticise anything
it's, and this sounds crazy, he's not quite tough enough. I'm no fan
of Gibson's personal life but he was absolutely, completely Max. The
laconic, whippet thin, brawling survivor. Gibson owned that and Hardy
does a magnificent job with action and voice. Voice in particular is
uncanny - but he looks too well fed and just not merciless enough.
Max's redemption lies in sudden and uncharacteristic moments of
selflessness and honour. Hardy looks like he'd lay his leather jacket
over a puddle for a damsel to tip-toe across at the slightest
provocation. But, let's face it, the jacket could do with the wash.
That leads me to some gossip.
A
friend of mine, loosely connected to the production, said that Charlize
was less than thrilled about working with Tom by about day two,
because allegedly he got all 'method' and wouldn't step out of his
character or leathers to step into the shower. Good one, Tom. It's
important to remain true to the entirely fictional, two dimensional
character at the expense of your workmates comfort. That's gritty
realism.
The
War Boys are disgusting and repellent and fascinating and what you
need for a set of minions – and their death-cry, battle-rant,
call-and-response is hilarious and feels very Australian for some
reason:
We're on the back of a speeding War Rig. A mortally
wounded War Boy sees opportunity to go out with Kamikaze style,
sprays his mouth and teeth with chrome, turns to his brethren and
screams, “Witness meeeeee!”
All
the other War Boys within earshot, scream back, “Witnessssssss!”
Mortally
wounded War Boy throws himself off the back of the truck holding two
explosive spears, into the cockpit of a pursuing, entirely spiked
battle-buggy, exploding it, him, neighbours and earth. He has saved his brothers-in-arms with a selfless act of flaming heroism and will be welcomed through the gates of Valhala itself.
All
the War Boys who have seen this, scream, “Mediocre!”
Oh,
what a lovely day.
So,
I guess in conclusion, we were promised something that was going to
change the world. It's not going to. It is a cracking, high-paced
piece of entertainment where I spent a good amount of time wondering
how stuntmen weren't killed. There is a depth to the world that we
are to take on trust, but it's not mind-blowing if you're an
experienced SF reader or watcher, it's competent.
And,
I get that it's a scavenging society, but some detail is distracting and doesn't add depth, it makes you wonder about the wrong things at the wrong time. For instance, I wish the mask fitted
over Max's face for half the film, was not so obviously a
three-pronged-garden-fork with its handle removed. During an explosive race-to-the-death across a barren wasteland, I kept on thinking about little old ladies and well watered flower beds.
*We'll argue about this another time.
