Who Killed The World?” they ask in Fury Road. Be glad it’s George Miller. This ridiculously glorious rebooting of the Mad Max films of late ’70s and early ’80s by the director is a celebration of a world gone feral, and women gone sublime. And that’s not all women do here, even when dressed in wisps of delicate white. They command troops, drive war rigs, ride motorcycles and wage wars, apart from being “breeders” for a dictator ruling his kingdom by depriving his people of water.
Let them have mothers’ milk, is Immortan Joe’s (Keays-Byrne, old Mad Max hand) solution. Brother, it doesn’t work that way, you want to tell him. But really when it’s a dictator going down, who are we to stand in the way?
And fall he will, for he uses soldiers who are just “half life” as “battle fodder”, keeps healthier, “full life” men to supply them blood, imprisons beautiful women to bear him healthy babies in a room with an unmistakable sperm carved into the ground, hoards food in own caverns as his populace thirsts for minimally dispensed water, and encourages his people to embrace suicide declaring ecstatically “Witness me!”.
Fighting him is Furiosa (Theron), who has secreted away Joe’s wives (including Huntington-Whiteley) in the war rig she has been selected to drive. Max (Hardy) hops on along the way. A loner, he had been kept captured by Joe’s men and was being used as a “blood bag” by Nux (Hoult). He is O-ve, and even in this world, he is a “universal donor”.