gibberish


Mad Max: Fury Road. Review.
June 1, 2015, 11:20 pm
Filed under: action, charlize theron, george miller, mad max, tom hardy

And the award for best use of garden fork goes to...

And the award for best use of garden fork goes to…

We’ll put to one side the fact that half way through the screening I was at in Newcastle a girl collapsed in the stairway which meant that I spent ten minutes or so helping her out.  (She was fine in the end).  But it certainly added a degree of drama to a movie that is anything but short of that.

It’s 30 years since George Miller last directed a Mad Max movie and in the interim he’s treated us to rather more lightweight offerings such as Babe and Happy Feet.

But clearly it’s Mad Max that has become his trade mark and this (the fourth instalment, with a fifth on the way) is the best of the bunch in every respect other than the fact that Mel Gibson makes a better Max than Tom Hardy although, truth be told, this is as much, if not more, Charlize Theron’s movie as Tom Hardy’s.  (She manages to look spectacularly beautiful throughout despite having her face covered in axle grease.)

It’s quite remarkable that a 70 year old man could imagine and then actually produce and direct a movie of this scale, scope and energy.  In fact, it’s mind boggling.

And mind boggling is a very good word to describe the experience that is Mad Max: Fury Road. (I saw it in 3D but I don’t think that added a lot to be honest).

There is absolutely nothing intellectual to discuss about a movie that transports a bevy of beautiful “breeders” across the desert and back again on board a tanker full of breast milk.

The dialogue, when you can hear it, is pretty vacuous.  The bevy of beauties are pretty vacuous but who cares, because it’s such a splendid romp and a visual treat from get go to end credits.

Time and again one’s jaw drops as the sheer audaciousness of the endless vehicle chases as they unfold.  Like most goody/baddy movies it is remarkable how inept the baddies are at killing the goodies who, by contrast, seem to kill with gay abandon, barely a shot or a strike not hitting its mark.

But if you can park your critical faculties at the door, sit back and just steep yourself in two hours of OTT nonsense then you will be treated to pure pleasure for almost every frame.

Cracking.


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