2024 is no stranger to unique auteurs who are adding an additional chapter to one of their most famous works. We had Zack Snyder release his 2nd Rebel Moon to um… an interesting reception. Ti West is finally set to conclude his horror trilogy with Maxxxine, while Tim Burton is poised to re-enter the world of Beetlejuice later this year. Yet, it will be a challenge for any of these filmmakers to match the detail, care, pathos, or outright ferocity enacted on the silver screen by George Miller. The 79-year-old is one of the most senior directors in Hollywood, but his latest work pops on the screen as if it comes from a hungry filmmaker trying to prove themselves.
To answer a blunt question, we didn’t need a Mad Max prequel. In fact, the four previous entries in the series have done more than enough to establish the world and answer any lingering questions surrounding the backstory of this dystopia. But need, in art, is often a misnomer. Want is the more interesting subject, and it’s on that note that I’m glad Furiosa exists. The title character (Anya Taylor-Joy, Alyla Browne) is intended to be the physical embodiment of perseverance, as the film acts as the origin of her myth. We’re introduced to the character as a young child, the daughter of an incredibly skilled fighter in a home sanctioned off from the rest of the decaying world. Stolen away from her land before she even hits puberty, Furiosa is immediately challenged to find resiliency in a dilemma where she has no kin to call upon. She has to become a woman while surrounded by men, the latter’s brutality and thirst for power threatening to forever imprint itself on the brain of the young heroine.
The Mad Max films have often alluded to the actions and events that led to society’s collapse. But while that paints the backstory, the core of the films has always been more interested in what happens next. What is the hierarchy in a chaotic, lawless Wasteland? How far can we allow human depravity to go? Is there a chance for humans to rebuild a functioning society? In that vein, Furiosa sets its main character off in the opposite direction of her tormenter. She wants to return home and rebuild her community. Yet, her captor, Dementus (Chris Hemsworth), has no empathy for anyone or any care for the dilapidated planet around him. He wants power and respect. He’s also kind of an idiot, but we’ll get to that.
The film is pure pandemonium, a cacophony of action, thrills, excellent framing, fabulous shots, goofy greenscreen, and hammy acting. The action scenes are exhilarating as the characters joust via high-speed chases or War Rig brawls. Much of the carnage is communicated through real sets and death-defying stunts, yet (like Fury Road) the new film has more than its fair share of green screen and CGI. This is just a reality of modern production, and some who are used to Mad Max’s more practical design may be off-put by how produced the new film is. While I was at times consciously aware of the desert having an artificial backdrop, it never took me out of the movie. Miller seems determined to work within the parameters of modern production, combining the practical with the digital. The film still feels vast and enveloping, which is ultimately its goal. As long as the characters and action feel larger than life, then the filmmakers are still doing an admirable job.
The screenplay must be dense, as each scene is packed with details, key moments, reversals of fortune, and tension building. Each scene feels like a mini silent film coming to fruition, as Miller requires you to pay close attention to not lose track of a facial expression, an object, or an important line that may shape what happens next in the story. The movie is chaotic, in both good and bad ways. It gets too ahead of itself, juggling a half dozen plot lines and over a dozen characters. Furiosa herself, like Max in many of the other films, doesn’t say much as she goes on the odyssey of her life. It’s a weird film, a briskly paced flick that is as fascinating as it is overwhelming.
As Furiosa comes of age in compromised circumstances, Dementus and his underlings rummage around the wasteland like hobos, bullying new members while in pursuit of something valuable worth owning. He targets the water supply, food, gas, and even humans themselves as commodities. After effectively forcing Furiosa into slavery, Dementus gets into an aggressive chess game with Immortan Joe (Lachy Hulme) over control of the Citadel. Meanwhile, Furiosa studies the power struggle and the level of patience needed to know the right time to strike an opponent. But it’s possible that Furiosa can’t have both freedom and revenge.
The characters in the Wasteland are full of idiosyncracies and clear signs of mental illness, Dementus being at the top of the list. Chris Hemsworth goes for the jugular as the bad guy, in a performance that is amusing but at times distractingly over the top. This has its benefits – by way of being so eccentric, Dementus’ scenes are never dull and particularly work as a foil for the no-nonsense Immortan Joe. As serious as the material is, it’s understandable that you can’t have everyone walking around as a dour sourpuss; someone has to crack a joke or throw a pie. But there still requires balance.
Hemsworth’s performance is silly, like a Schumacher Batman villain, and he doesn’t take a break from chewing the scenery even if the moment calls for something more subtle. At the peak of the drama, he’s snorting and convulsing as if he’s going for an Oscar.. or a Saturn award, maybe. It would help if Hemsworth’s lines were funnier, but often, the goofiness is the joke, I guess. As a result, it feels like the film is missing a level of menace that would underline the severity of the violence. Dementus inflicts unspeakable crimes onto various characters, and Hemsworth’s performance should reflect that. It’s OK to display zaniness, and that tenor often works for Dementus, but the villain would benefit from an added layer that would showcase his ability to switch from comedic to sinister on a dime.
Contrast that with Anya Taylor-Joy, who has been occasionally sniped at for not being “tough enough” for the role. However, the character’s petite physique and struggles to match the physicality of her male adversaries, at least to me, actually aids in telling the story Miller wants. Furiosa, both the character and the movie, is somewhat of an exercise in wish fulfillment. We see the title character, as a young child, use her smarts to stay one step ahead of her captors. One brilliant moment comes when she drains the fuel of her kidnappers, allowing Furiosa to potentially be rescued.
However, these tricks can only aid her for so long, as what eventually keeps her alive is her hard work, her ability to keep quiet, and regrettably… her status as a woman. Both Immortan Joe and Dementus place a higher value on Furiosa’s potential inclusion into their respective gangs due to her gender and the level of status that brings to their groups as well as their egos. Yet, Furiosa must find a way to overcome this predicament, or else she risks being subject to a lifetime of servitude in lieu of an opportunity to return home. For a while, she’s able to survive by way of her cunning as well as timely uses of violence. But she’s outmatched despite her unwavering spirit. That is until a calamity takes place that not only threatens the character’s life but potentially closes the door on her chance to return home.
Yet as fortune would have it, the screenplay very cleverly utilizes this moment as a turning point – using Furiosa’s misfortune as an unforeseen blessing, turning her into something of a superhero. It’s at this moment that Furiosa is finally able to keep pace with (and even pulverize) her bigger/stronger captors. Thus, Taylor-Joy’s slight frame and feminity actually assist in this depiction of the character – Furiosa isn’t a robotic “badass” without flaws. She’s a vulnerable, emotionally worn, physically limited fighter whose intellect and rage help fuel her – while her disability ends up remaking her into the action icon we know from Fury Road. Yes, as previously mentioned, this is wish fulfillment, but such a trope is as valid a storytelling method as there is. We certainly don’t see as many naysayers when wish fulfillment is used to accelerate stories centered around male characters. In real life, Peter Parker gets his ass kicked by Eddie Brock.
The point of Furiosa, as a character, isn’t to show how gruff she can be or how many men she can best in a fistfight. The film’s view on toughness, heart, and resolve is less direct than that. Furiosa is hardened by time; it is a tragedy underlined by a loss of innocence and an upbringing dominated by the worldview of a masculine desire to conquer. Furiosa grows up in that environment and deciphers which behaviors she should mimic and which she should abandon, on the journey to becoming something greater. Anya Taylor-Joy brings out the desperation in this character without having to say a whole lot. Those big eyes and that smoldering frown do a lot of the talking and the storytelling.
Furiosa isn’t better than Fury Road, the latter of which still stands tall as the apex of the franchise. Part of the reason why the predecessor is greater is baked into Furiosa’s nature as a prequel, while Fury Road was able to put an exclamation point on the character’s story. But as an origin for a once mysterious warrior, George Miller’s epic hits a strong balance of spectacle, good performances, a richly colorful world, and a measure of will and spirit. It’s an ode to what some heroes should stand for – not their might, but how their experiences motivate them to prevent the tragedy from ever happening again.
