Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga, and before we witness this brand new apocalyptic explosion in theatres, it is a fine time to rewatch the film that came before it—not that any excuses are necessary. Nine years ago, Miller’s Mad Max: Fury Road (streaming in India on Netflix) not only redefined action cinema but transcended the entire genre. It is a film unlike any film before it—which is ironic, considering it follows Miller’s cult classics Mad Max, The Road Warrior and Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome—and every single frame trembles with burning hot originality.
I begin with The Doof Warrior. An enigmatic masked man, he epitomizes the film’s heavy metal aesthetic. Perched atop a monstrous, mobile stage with a guitar that doubles as a flamethrower, he is a wordless icon.
He’s absurd as well as awe-inspiring, yet, against all odds, fits perfectly within the film’s world. He embodies surrealism and theatricality, turning chase scenes into heavy metal opera. Bringing to life the bombastic score by Junkie XL, the Doof Warrior—unforgettably—demonstrates the film’s embrace of maximalism and spectacle.
Mad Max: Fury Road is a two-hour chase that yanks the audience along for the ride without preamble or exposition. The viewer enters the film like a character in a video game, on their feet and racing before even knowing what they are bolting away from. The story arc is as spare as a tyre: escape from the clutches of tyranny, only to turn back and confront it head-on.
This simplicity, however, is the film’s strength—Miller crafts a narrative that is both epic and intimate, with every detail telling a story. It’s the poetry of pursuit. On the run is Tom Hardy’s Max Rockatansky, a taciturn survivor haunted by his past, a brooding hero literally in
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