Mad Max: Fury Road

As an aspiring writer of some sort I’ve always tried my best to add to my relatively limited vocabulary. Whenever a seemingly spritely, bizarre, or peculiar word has the privilege of gracing my eardrums, I sophisticatedly and scientifically catalogue it into my iPhone’s “Notes” feature.  A few weeks ago my ears tripped over another fine linguistic specimen and I’ve just been itching to pull it out of my phone and gratuitously spew it everywhere. It just so happens that my next review, Mad Max: Fury Road, brings about as close to a perfect opportunity I’ll ever have to use it, I think.

GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH GARISH.

Garish. adjective. “Offensively or distressingly bright and vivid.”

No, seriously. Everything about the most recent installment of the Mad Max franchise screams insanity and over-the-top action. And by God, director George Miller, magnificent bastard that he is, could not have executed it any more garishly. 

Fury Road immediately throws the audience into what can only be assumed to be the same post-apocalyptic desert wasteland of the first three films, where simple modern life-sustaining commodities (water, gasoline) are something the inhabitants of this hell might not even think to write on their list to wasteland Santa. The only “stable” population we see in the movie is a community somewhat lacking in egalitarian ideologies. By this I mean 95% of people are dying of thirst and worship a man known as Immortan Joe, the tyrannical offspring of Skeletor and Edgar Winter. Our protagonist, Max (Tom Hardy), escapes imprisonment from Immortan Joe’s pseudo-city, dubbed the Citadel, and reluctantly but fortunately teams up with the most badass female killing machine since Ellen Ripley, Imperator Furiosa (Charlize Theron). The stoic duo travel across a seemingly infinite outback desperately trying to outrun Joe and his army of fanatic motorhead acolytes who apparently watched waaaaaay too much Junkyard Wars. That being said, they are a tad pissed off that Furiosa is transporting Joe’s five “wives”, women exclusively selected for breeding, to the fabled oasis of The Green Place...and wherever Max is going.

Cirque du Soleil meets Scrapheap Challenge

I’ll try to be a bit more descriptive: Fury Road is like if Speed, Commando, and The Road had a threesome and conceived a child that was raised by Michael Bay, and Nicolas Winding Refn had visitation rights. But this cinematic lovechild does not run on retina-splitting visuals alone. Much credit must be given to Hardy, whose Max makes it abrasively clear that this isn’t his first death- and-probably-physics defying rodeo. Same goes for Theron’s Furiosa. An emotionally and most likely psychologically drained warrior, she is Max sans what men hold most dear. Together they form a likely yet unlikely relationship made almost entirely of elbow grease and firepower. There are scores of other characters that captured my attention, but none like these two.

Technically, the film is stunning. It appears as though the special effects artists tried to outdo one another each alternating scene and it’s just marvelous. Sweeping and intimate cinematography plunge the audience mercilessly into each bullet-riddled and flame-laden sequence of events. Throughout the entire movie you feel like the lifeless barren of Fury Road’s scorched outback actually exists. 

I'm a loner, and a loner's gotta be alone. Unless my life depends on other people.

You may bet thinking, “But Dylan, you brazen and triumphant stallion, is this movie just explosions, incredible stunts, and GARISHNESS rolled into a jumbo package of bullets, flamethrowers, and car chases?” I’m happy to say no, far from it.

There are a few quieter sections of the film that individually delve into the pain and desperation that have come to define each character, and in these timid moments you, too, will feel their sorrow. It’s just that powerful. I won’t spoil too much but I will say this: don’t underestimate the power of the human spirit. Especially a spirit that has undergone a lifetime’s worth of neglect, anger, physical and emotional abuse, and the innumerable harrowing experiences of losing those closest to them.

I speak no hyperbole when I say Fury Road will go down as an instant action classic and possibly as one of the greatest action films ever. A bold statement? Yes. Do I think I'm wrong? Fuck no.

I'm Back (with Dragons)

Remember when Toy Story 2 was released in 1999? I don’t, but I feel like I should have. It’s the second installment in a what would later become a trilogy of films that captured the hearts of the kicking, screaming, bitching six-year-old in all of us. We couldn’t wait to see it, and when we did…it was pretty much the same as the first. It wasn’t until we were around 12 or 13 we found ourselves re-watching it to get our nostalgia fix at whatever lame movie party our middle school board thought was a good idea. Then it became abundantly clear. This is much better than the original. How did we not see it’s glory before? (Well, we were six when we first watched it and our underdeveloped cognitive processing only reacted to stimuli comprised of toilet humor and jokes about fat people.) Anyway, it was the first time I had experienced a sequel surpassing it’s predecessor. 

This is the most recent.

How To Train Your Dragon 2 has the audience return to the dinky cliff village of Berk, a once dragon-fearing community populated with stereotypical viking folk. You know, the helmets with the horns, braided hair and (somehow) silky smooth beards approaching their knees, all that good stuff. The Berk from the initial film eventually embraced the idea of man and dragon living in harmony, which is where this film takes off. Well, five years later. Hero of Berk and now chief-to-be Hiccup (Jay Baruchel) and his trusty Night Fury dragon Toothless and friends discover a band of dragon trappers hellbent on gathering all dragons in the world to build a dragon army for madman tyrant Drago Bludvist. Along the way Hiccup and Co. experience first-hand the tragedy, celebration, responsibility, and opportunities that come with the Growing Up Bundle Package. 

Timeshare?

The first film in the series introduces the audience to an all-new universe, relatable characters, and some of the finest 3D animation ever to appear on screen. The next installment takes the first film, straps it down, knocks it out, and pumps it full of cinematic steroids.

I’m not kidding. How To Train Your Dragon 2 might just be one of the greatest animated sequels I’ve ever seen. The world we only tasted in the first film balloons into it’s own expansive universe, not just the viking village of Berk. That’s what I think made this film so beautiful, as well as exhilarating and, at times, emotionally draining. As Hiccup physically maps out unexplored territory you get this feeling that you’re being pulled along for the ride. And it’s a roller coaster.

One last thing I’d like to touch on are two characters who I feel stood out. Hiccup, voiced by a seemingly socially-stunted Jay Baruchel, has matured both physically and emotionally (I mean, except for the loss of the lower half of his leg) and makes this apparent as he is set up to become chief of Berk once his father, Stoick the Vast (Gerard Butler), is gone. He struggles with this concept, saying to fiancee Astrid (American Ferrera), “You know exactly who you are. You always have. I'm still looking.” 

Last, Drago Bludvist. Oh boy. I’ve noticed that animators and voice actors sometimes have difficulty bringing to life a villainous character, whether it be the difficulty of expressing genuine malevolence, sociopathy, or whatever. This is not the case for Drago Bludvist. Every time his Geodude-esque physique appears onscreen, he completely steals the scene. Brought to menacing and psychopathic life by Djimon Hounsou, Bludvist’s gravelly voice, which almost has an air of illiteracy about it, sent chills down my spine almost every time he spoke. Hounsou’s voice acting is incredible and the character design is pretty much flawless, if they were going for a cross between Richard Sherman and Brock Lesnar. But hey, it works.

Someone left a Chia Pet on top of a fridge

See the movie if you haven’t already, especially if you a sucker for sequels. The film overall takes on a slightly darker, more mature tone, and explores more adult themes absent from its predecessor.