Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior (1981), directed by George Miller

The Trailer
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The Appropriate Tune: "I Was A Kamikaze Pilot", by Hoodoo Gurus

       I don’t know if I’m just being sentimental or what, but I guess that ‘familiar faces’ label that I stuck on the last Marathon decided to stick around to see the new year as well. First it was the return of James Bond to the blogging arena, something that had been foreshadowed at the very dawn of this blog, and after a short detour to flip the bird to Billy Mitchell, we’re returning to another movie series that had seemingly fallen to the wayside: Mad Max. If I wanted to seem ominous I’d say I was tying up some loose ends, but in reality it was a spur of the moment thing. It was either going to be this or Monkeybone, to give you a sense if the high stakes gambling we were dealing with here. Sorry Brendan Fraser, you’re going to have to take a rain check.

Anyway, about five years ago (which is depressing just thinking about it) I covered the patriarch of the Mad Max series, 1979’s Mad Max, a film that I really, really did not like. For a movie that revolved around muscle cars and motorcycles the plot felt interminably slow, full of characters that I did not care about and the barest modicum of action slotted in at the very end. Then a year later I covered 2015’s Mad Max: Fury Road, a film that I really, really did like. A total dark horse champion at the time that in all honesty should have redefined the way filmmakers approach action sequences in film, while also managing to tell a coherent, entertaining narrative. With such a huge disparity between the two films I was reluctant to bring a new film into the fold, one which would tip the scales and determine whether this series was ultimately good or bad. Was Fury Road the exception to a rule, or was Mad Max just a rocky start? Well it’s right about time that we find out.

The world is fucked. Mankind just couldn’t keep their hands out of the M.A.D. jar and civilization has collapsed, along with most of the ecosystem, although that might just be what Australia looks like. What last pockets of humanity remain either try to band together into communities, or join the vicious bands of marauders that roam the wasteland, but they’re all fighting and dying for one thing: Gasoline. As automobiles have become the backbone of this society, a vital tool of trade and war, petrol has become the lifeblood allowing it to function. To have gas is to have freedom and to own it is power, and in this hell both of those options are worth killing over. Especially when everyone around you is trying to kill you first.

Max is a man racing against the demons of his past, something that’s difficult to do when you’re living in hell. While scavenging for supplies he ends up in the middle of a conflict between the tribe of Gastown, so named because it was jury-rigged from an abandoned oil well, and a gang of leather-strapped S&M bandits led by the Ayatollah of Rock ‘N’ Rolla himself, The Humungus. Humungus wants that sweet sweet guzzolene, and he and his war dogs have been making some incredibly subtle requests for it; Holding day-long battle practice outside their main gate, killing and/or raping every person who tries to leave Gastown in search of trade, using hostages as living hood ornaments, that sort of thing. Sensing an opportunity for personal gain and having previously run afoul of one of Humungus’ men, Max decides to temporarily ally himself with the people of Gastown and pick them up a transport truck so they can hail their ass and their gas out of there. Things go about as well as you’d expect whenever you throw an army of heavily-armed gimps into the mix, and Max quickly finds himself way more involved than he ever wanted.

The Road Warrior approaches being a sequel in much the same way as Fury Road would do in the future, in that it’s not really a ‘sequel’ at all. There’s some clips of of the first film as I mentioned, but aside from the setting and the character of Max Mad Max 2 doesn’t really relate to Mad Max at all. A bit odd in these days of vast overarching narratives spanning dozens of films, but in the case of Mad Max 2 I actually prefer it that way. Not just because I didn’t like the original Mad Max, but because it allows for simple, adaptable storytelling. You didn’t need the entire backstory of Akira Kurosawa’s Yojimbo, or half the film dedicated to how Clint Eastwood’s character in The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly learned to shoot a pistol, because the stories explain themselves. There’s a village plagued by a gang of thieves, a hero comes and vanquishes the thieves, and the villagers are happy. It’s a plot that could take place in the dystopian Australian outback or feudal Japan with no real issues, and I like that because it helps make that hero feel almost timeless. This is not Max, the rogue cop on the edge from the last film. This is The Road Warrior, a being more of myth than of man.

This belief is aided by the fact that George Miller had attained a far greater sense for action by his second ever feature film. The car combat that blew audiences away in Fury Road got its start here, a little less high-octane but just as technically impressive and dangerous looking as ever. It brings to mind images of privateers attacking supply ships or whaling expeditions, the target struggling for life as the pack slowly whittle it down, a slow burn kind of tension that is contrasted nicely by the general speed of the action. Getting to see some sick explosions and cars getting demolished is fun too, a couple folks getting set on fire, but it’s the vehicle battles that are the centerpiece of Mad Max 2.

As for cons, there’s not really much in the way of interesting characters. Memorable characters sure, I’d say The Humungus and his crew fit that bill, but characters that I grew attached to on an emotional level? Max is badass, yeah, but that’s primarily when he’s driving something. Everyone else feels just kind of there, you know? They throw in the Feral Child to try and soften up Max but I just really didn’t see any chemistry chemistry. The Gyro Captain, played by Bruce Spence, is pretty great though I must admit. At the very least he gives you something to focus on while looking at ol’ Mel the Bigot’s one expression through the first half of the film, and you have to credit for that.

I also wasn’t blown away by the score of the film, composed by Brian May. It’s an effective score, but I never really took notice at any point that I can remember. Which is arguably one of the major points of music in film, that it not take precedence over what’s on the screen, but I expected a bit more from a member of a rock band famous for extremely catchy, often operatic songs which sometimes involved cars. 

       Mad Max 2 is the film that made the series a household name, and it’s the film that first made you wonder why studios ended up sticking George Miller with Babe: Pig in the City rather than just dumping money on him so he could make more leather daddy apocalypse flicks. Too much of a good thing I suppose. While Fury Road is still number one in my heart, if you’re at all interested in understanding all this weirdness then this is the movie to check out. Maybe the only other movie to check out, because it’ll probably be another five years until I check out Beyond Thunderdome. Until then, make sure you stock up on guzzolene and canned dog food. For the future. 

The Long Dark Marathon of the Soul 2015: Mad Max: Fury Road (2015), directed by George Miller

The Trailer

and

The Appropriate Tune: "Bat Out of Hell", by Meat Loaf

     Some of you who have read my reviews before, however few of you there are, may recall that I reviewed the first Mad Max film a while back and that I didn’t much care for it. That is still the case. Despite some rather interesting aesthetic choices, I found the film to be, on the whole, rather boring. Boring in the way that B-movies can often be, where there is literally nothing that tear you away from that intense lack of interest. Lackluster characters, lackluster music, lackluster cinematography and a lack of action that seems almost ridiculous considering the type of movie it purports itself to be. When you call your primary antagonist Mad Max, and you set your story in a post-apocalyptic Australia that’s run by insane gangs, it’s just wrong to pull that ‘all the action is in the last 30 minutes’ bullshit that so many movies end up doing. Yes, you want to build towards an exciting climax, but (and I think I’ve said this before) if you don’t care about the characters then you’re not going to care about what happens to them. No matter how bloody or action-packed it may be.

     Cut to 2015, a full 30 years after the last Mad Max film (Beyond Thunderdome, for those curious), and director George Miller has finally released the fourth film in the series, Fury Road. In it, the titular Max (played here by Tom Hardy is enslaved and made into a living blood bank by a gang of pale, warlike zealots known as the War Boys, lead by their God Emperor Immortan Joe. When one of the War Boy’s most trusted warriors, Imperator Furiosa (played by Charlize Theron) rescues Immortan’s harem under the pretext of a raid, the entire force of the War Boys is sent after her, Max unwillingly included. When Max eventually escapes, because it wouldn’t be much of a movie if he didn’t, he and Furiosa form a tentative truce to save the girls, save themselves, and reach that sanctuary that all post-apocalyptic worlds must have. With Immortan Joe right behind them however, it’s going to be one rough ride.

     To put it simply, Mad Max: Fury Road is one of, if not the best modern action film I’ve seen to date. Every bit of potential I saw in the original Mad Max; the cool car chases, the punk aesthetic, the post-apocalyptic Lord of the Flies-meets-The Warriors type world Miller has thought up is all there, and even more insane than I thought it was going to be going into it. The popular sentiment from reviews at the time was that the film was like ‘one long car chase’, and that’s not too far from the truth. The film is utterly relentless, constantly pushing you, constantly throwing new things,new explosions, into the mix, and yet it never really feels overwhelming and never loses sight of what it’s going for. Not that it’s some grand epic mind you, but through that constant action, that constant suspense of wondering what’ could possibly come next, Miller made me feel attached to these characters in a way that I never felt in Dark Knight Rises or Avengers or Guardians of the Galaxy or Godzilla, at least to the same degree. I may not remember most of their names, but I still cared.

     Really, the only negative I can think of at the moment is that for a film called Mad Max, Mad Max feels rather ancillary to the whole thing. In fact, I don’t think he even speaks in complete sentences for at least thirty minutes after his opening monologue. Really, it terms of motivation, character arc, and general screentime, Furiosa has a much stronger claim to the protagonist title than the guy the film is named after. However, it’s not like Max isn’t a badass in this movie, and Furiosa is a total badass, so really you’re getting two badasses in a movie that’s already completely fucking awesome, so it never really felt like such a big deal to me. So really, at the moment of writing, I can’t think of anything wrong with Fury Road. I went in with no real expectations, maybe even slightly lowered expectations given my experience with the first Mad Max and my pessimistic attitude towards modern cinema, and it satisfied on pretty much every level. Damn good piece of film, really hope Hollywood doesn’t find some way to fuck it up.

     And since post-apocalyptic stories are a subgenre of science fiction, I have no problem with throwing high recommendations on Fury Road for this Halloween. The only way I can imagine this movie being better is if you were jacked up on candy and beer with your friends while watching it, so (if you’re of legal age) that’s what I would suggest. You’ll live, you’ll die, and then maybe, just maybe, you’ll live again.

Mad Max (1979), directed by George Miller

The Trailer
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The Appropriate Tune: "Hot Rod Lincoln", by Commando Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen

     Poor Mel Gibson, things just haven’t been going his way for the last couple of years. After a couple of social faux-pas, including sexually harassing a female police officer after being pulled over for a DUI, claiming that Jews are responsible for all the wars in the world and telling his wife that she should be gangraped by a pack of racial epithets, his star in the Hollywood sky has dimmed considerably. I mean, when your most notable movie film role in recent memory is from Expendendables 3, which is itself notable for being three times shittier than the original, you know shit has turned south for all intents and purposes. You’d think that if you’re the kind of person who thinks a secret cabal of Jewish folk control Hollywood, you probably don’t want to accuse their people of being the basis for world conflict if you’re interested in job security. By the way, if any secret Jewish leader in the film industry is reading this, I totally have no problem with you guys running Hollywood. So if you just happened to have a movie deal or a full scholarship to film school or something just lying around, I’d be more than willing to take it off your hands for you. I also accept cash and money orders.

     Much like his buddy Robert Downey Jr., ol’ Mel is a fine actor whose career as of late has marked by his excessive lifestyle (plus that whole ultraconservative antisemite thing). Unlike RDJ with Iron Man however, Gibson never got that dramatic redemption story that completely redeemed him in the eyes of the public. Not everyone gets one of course, and not everyone deserves one either, but I’ve decided to cut that Australian dick a break and grant him the honor of writing about a movie he was in for the internet. As of this writing the only film of his that I had seen previous to this was Lethal Weapon (which is damn good buddy cop movie), so I decided to go with the franchise that put Mel Gibson on the action hero map. Before we went Beyond Thunderdome, and before he was Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior, Mel Gibson was... Mad Max.

     A few years from now’, in a postapocalyptic world (that somehow manages to have electricity, running water, nightclubs, television stations, broadcasting equipment, a functioning bureaucratic legal system and enough gasoline to power dozens of automobiles), small towns in what is presumably Australia are terrorized by gas-stealing motorcycle gangs, as is their wont. The peace-loving citizens’ only defense in these trying times are the police, who wear leather jackets and drive sports cars for some reason, but the conflict seems to be at a standstill. The greatest officer of them all is Max Rockatansky (seriously), who always works alone and manages not to crash his car at every available opportunity. When he’s not in the leather though, Max is a sensitive and caring family man with his wife Jessica and infant son Sprog (with a name like that, he’s sure to be a winner). It’s as close to idyllic as life can be, in a world where everyone dresses like the cast of Easy Rider wandered into a Doctor Who convention.

     As is the case with all media however, happiness is only a construct to be destroyed to provide dramatic tension, and so it is with Mad Max. In this case, the inevitable conflict begins when Max causes the death of the Night Rider, a psychopathic criminal and member of a particularly rapey and cultish motorcycle gang. This sets off a series of events that see great tragedy come to Max, friends get fucked up etc., which eventually spur him to violent and bloody revenge on those who did him wrong. It’s a pretty simple plot, one that’s been replicated in hundreds of other films over the years, so don’t expect any masterful twists or anything like that. Not to say simplicity is bad, depending on how it’s utilized it can even be preferable but it’s pretty easy to see where you’re heading when your path is a straight line.

     Which bring me to my ultimate impression of Mad Max: it’s bad. Not Manos, the Hands of Fate shithouse horrible, just kind of stupid and ultimately disappointing, like Saturday Night Live after the 90s. All the villains feel like they studied at the feet of Cesar Romero’s Joker, and the ‘good; characters are far more vehicles for situations rather living breathing humans we are supposed to identify with. It seems like George Miller was attempting to craft a campy action flick in the vein of Death Race 2000, maybe even one with a poignant social message in the wake of the petroleum crisis in the 1970s, but it just doesn’t work. It’s too campy to take seriously when the actual drama is attempted, and it’s too sluggish to be all that engaging. For a movie that implies it’s about fast cars and high-octane action in a post apocalyptic setting, it doesn’t really get to those implications at any point in the movie. Sure, there are some car crashes and such sprinkled throughout, to remind you that this movie is supposed to be exciting I guess, but anything resembling real action doesn’t take place until around the last 18 minutes of the film, which isn’t all that satisfying even when it does happen. The rest of the movie Max doesn’t really do much of anything to distinguish himself as a protagonist or make him worthwhile to the audience. In fact he does so little throughout the movie that you have to look at the title of the damn movie to remember he’s the main character of the movie. Yes, you want to save the biggest action for the climax of the film, but if the only slightly interesting part of your 90 minute movie is the last 15, maybe even 10, then why even bother trying it? Watching Mad Max was such a slow trudge of an experience that I actually started opening other tabs to find something more entertaining. Hell, the thought of writing this article left me with such a sour taste in my mouth that I had to take a walk after starting it up. I bought some nonpareils at the local store, tried to forget my troubles.

     None of my problems with Mad Max have anything to do with Mel Gibson per se. Whenever he gets the chance to actually act, you can see that the man has the chops to be a leading man, but everything around him is pretty much just garbage. Perhaps the later films are better, but in my opinion this is not the film to start with if you’re looking to explore the work of the man. I’d say go with Lethal Weapon or Braveheart, or maybe even go for his directorial work, as I’ve heard some say that he’s a better director than an actor. We better hope so, if that ‘RDJ wants Mel to direct Iron Man 4’ thing ever comes to light. Who better to direct a film about a rich alcoholic who alienates his friends and family than Mel Gibson?

     #ohsnap #dropthemic

RESULT: NOT RECOMMENDED