Mad Max: Blurry Road

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.