Courtney Howard // Film Critic
FURIOSA: A MAD MAX SAGA
Rated R, 2 hours and 28 minutes
Directed by: George Miller
Starring: Anya Taylor-Joy, Chris Hemsworth, Tom Burke, Alyla Browne, Lachy Hulme, George Shevtsov, John Howard, Angus Sampson, Nathan Jones, Josh Helman, Elsa Pataky, Charlee Fraser, Goran D. Kleut
In the case of FURIOSA: A MAD MAX SAGA, filmmaker George Miller isn’t interested in just reinventing the wheel. He’s interested in kicking the tires, streamlining the vehicle and juicing up the engine with high-octane fuel. His heroine, once again in the driver’s seat, leads a commanding charge, this time actually headlining her own potent prequel centered on a coming-of-age story birthed in a place of rust, rubble and rage. It burns with the heat of a thousand fires. The Aussie auteur’s filmic language feels as visceral and vital as ever, made especially meaningful in this late stage of his career. And his post-apocalyptic dystopian lens captures one woman’s compelling passage as her mettle is formed on sun-baked battlefields full of bullets, blood and brutality.
It’s a surprise to no one that our titular heroine has always been intrepid and intelligent. It all begins when Furiosa (Alyla Browne) is 10 years old, picking peaches in The Green Place. She discovers a pack of lawless biker goons plundering her community’s resources and attempts (and fails!) to thwart the “Roobillies.” Spirited away to their nomadic encampment deep in the desolate Wasteland, she meets sinister, sociopathic leader Dementus (Chris Hemsworth), who literally fashions himself as a Jesus figure, cloaked in a white, diaphanous parachute shroud, preaching betterment if his devious disciples pledge fellowship. His rule is merciless, demonstrated by ruthlessly killing Furiosa’s fearless mom Mary (Charlee Fraser), whose noble mission to rescue her daughter backfires.
Over time, Furiosa’s angst silently simmers. She’s caged property, but her spirit can’t be broken. Soon transferred into Citadel leader Immortan Joe’s (Lachy Hulme) care, she falls under the oppressive male gaze of her captor and his sons Scrotus (Josh Helman) and Rictus Erectus (Nathan Jones). But she survives by disguising her burgeoning femininity in an androgynous role in this adopted army of War Boys and Dogmen. It’s not until she’s a young adult (Anya Taylor-Joy) when she seizes an opportunity to possibly gain freedom, stowing away on a war rig driven by Praetorian Jack (Tom Burke), who takes her under his wing. Meanwhile, Dementus’ violent takeover of the Gastown stronghold causes trouble for Immortan Joe and his powerful cohorts The People Eater (John Howard) and The Bullet Farmer (Lee Perry). While they maneuver to quash their new rival warlord, Furiosa’s decades-long plan for retribution and redemption finally aligns.
This is a journey well worth taking, despite knowing its destination in MAD MAX: FURY ROAD. If anything, it makes the aforementioned film hit even harder, now knowing all the trials and tribulations our protagonist endured to make it to that cathartic, humbling moment of genuine emotional release where she collapses in the desert. Miller and co-writer Nick Lathouris masterfully craft a timeless, timely legend that engages with the heady concepts of myth-making and tragic archetypes. Throughout the storied chapters in this odyssey, they’ve created an iconic female character born of grease and grief, vengeance and velocity, strength and sorrow. The History Man (George Shevtsov) asks a profound question in the opening prologue: “As the world falls around us, how must we brave its cruelties?” The answer in our protoganist’s case is to face the harsh challenges head-on, without fear. Similar to other films in the MAD MAX franchise, the picture’s sentiments that good things can rise out of bleak circumstances resonate deeply, poignantly connecting with audiences on an enlightened level.
Miller and Lathouris keep the proceedings lean and mean despite the film’s run time being the longest in the series. For as much as it’s a story about a heroine and retaining our humanity, it’s also about societal villainy as glimpsed through Dementus’ megalomaniacal machinations and poor politicking. Real world touchstones abound from this charismatic, occasionally doofy despot’s brash actions, callously exploiting usurped followers and resources for his own selfish survival. Rogue factions and rebellions form, leading to desperation, decay and further societal fissures. Hemsworth explores these hidden facets with an assured command, perverting this man’s grief into an unhinged apathy. The teddy bear functions as a talisman, speaking to his fatherly connection with his new charge – through the rejection, acceptance, withholding and repossession of this tool of affection. And the arc of this relationship between Dementus and Furiosa yields well-earned dividends.
There’s beauty and grace in the understated marriage of Browne and Taylor-Joy’s performances. Though their dialogue is slight, there are worlds of emotion in their expressive physicality. Browne’s hundred yard stare witnessing Dementus’ violent proclivities reads the same as Taylor-Joy’s. Their movements are balletic, extricating themselves from dangerous circumstances (like the younger’s escape from Rictus) and sacrificing themselves for others (like the elder’s rescue of Praetorian Jack from the Bullet Farm). Taylor-Joy’s work also seamlessly aligns with Charlize Theron’s stoic iteration in FURY ROAD, so when she’s finally shown as the warrior to whom we been previously introduced, it matches perfectly.
Action sequences provide a ton of indelible spectacle. There are a slew of shots that go hard, from Mary in a skeleton helmet riding away from the marauders’ camp on a flaming motorbike to Furiosa’s pursuit in a black vintage hot rod on steroids. Even Piss Boy emptying bottles of urine to douse the fire on himself (a nod to THE ROAD WARRIOR) holds power too. Jenny Beavan’s detailed costume designs are rapturous. The vehicular mayhem gives motorbikes and monster trucks god-like stature. Dementus’ chrome multi-bike chariot gleams. The V-8 engines rumble and roar. And Tom Holkenborg’s percussive score rips. There is some noticeable use of The Volume blended into a handful of scenes. Still, Miller’s utilization of this instrument isn’t an impediment to his aesthetic aims and narrative ambitions. He makes quality use of it.
The War Rig battle sequence, defending this ostentatious chrome colossus against the Octoboss (Goran D. Kleut) and his Mortifiers, is perhaps Miller and action designer Guy Norris at their most gonzo. It takes what would normally be delightful vacation activities – like parasailing, hang-gliding and kite flying – and turns them into next level madness, drenching them in black and employing them for nasty punk revelry. Plus, the thematic tie between the rig’s survival and Furiosa’s struggle transforms this big action set piece into a propulsive character moment.
Prequels aren’t often viewed by many as necessary, which is a shame given the fertile ground that can be unearthed. This one stands to enrich and enhance its 2015 predecessor. Furiosa’s lessons about love and road war are intrinsically tied. The heartbreak, hurt and horror that lead her to commit desperate, defiant acts later on are emotionally charged and properly showcased in this evocative extravaganza.
Grade: A
FURIOSA is now playing.
