By this point, you’ve probably read a number of glowing reviews of Mad Max: Fury Road, perhaps even in this magazine. Adjectives as “ movie-making master class”, “thought provoking” and “of the uttermost brilliance” have been used to describe it.
This one is not that kind of review.
Let me put it this way. Yesterday, I saw a drama starring the septuagenarian Blythe Danner (Gwyneth Paltrow’s mom) called I’ll See You in My Dreams. Danner plays a widow tentatively dipping her toe in the dating pool (Sam Elliott is the most eligible suitor). I was 10 times more invested in that movie than I was ever in Mad Max: Fury Road.
Don’t get me wrong. The fourth Mad Max entry belongs in the top echelon of summer action blockbusters, but keep in mind the bar is very, very low. The most obvious comparison, Furious 7, was a ridiculous romp riding on the audience’s good will towards the franchise. Two muscle-heads driving straight into each other at 80 mph and barely getting a scratch is the definition of preposterousness (not to mention setting a horrible example.) Continue reading “REVIEW: The Adventures Of Mildly Psychotic Max”