Never Stop Becoming: Lessons From the Mad Max Series
Why the strategy of perseverance is critical for every artist
“Big Things Have Small Beginnings”.
Sometimes, our first impressions do not last forever. Like people, stories can grow along with us, and the greatest ones defy wisdom and become something special.
Take the saga of Mad Max. Officially, this film series is an Australian post-apocalyptic tale about an anti-hero with his iconic V-8 Interceptor car trying to survive brutal gangs in a lawless wasteland. He often gets caught in someone else’s troubles, and, ultimately, helps them, transforming into a kind of wandering legend.
Infatuated with the very concept, before I even watched the series, I daydreamed of inconceivable deserts filled with crazy folk and those trying to survive. Fast, bizarre, and wild cars. A looney-but-a-goody hero. Practical stunt work, crazy costumes, pedal-to-the-metal ferocity . . . a world that has gone mad and the good people who are trying to stay sane.
I initially tried out the series watching the first film in 2015, then again with the rest of the installments in 2024, I was taken on a rollercoaster of a cinematic journey that proved to me that stories, like us, may start out not knowing what they are doing and become something epic.
Mad Max: Rock Bottom.
I hate this film and never want to watch this one again.
(Somehow, in my attempts to finish this series, I have actually seen this film three times).
I will not say the picture is without merit. The DIY nature of this low-budget piece is admirable, the opening chase scene feels dangerous and is rather good. There is a meaningful theme about the fear of going mad like the rest of the world and, after suffering tragedy, going nuts.
I will also give this particular film credit in affecting the rest of the series: Max’s leg is shot and, in each subsequent film, he walks and runs thanks to the help of an improvised metal contraption, his leg forever broken.
But otherwise, for me personally, there is a seriously unpleasant, moronic, tedious, and uninteresting nature about this film that predominantly feels like spending time with half-comprehensible, “crazy” bad guys. The supposedly fun stunts and looney spirit of the series was not here at all, just some bargain basement stupidity. My disdain for the lead star, Mel Gibson, does not help, admittedly. But more particularly, the renowned hero he plays, Max Rockatansky, is not appealing at all. He is neither interesting nor terrible. His backstory consists solely of his wife and child being murdered by a gang in front of him. Now he is a tormented soul driving across a dystopian—soon to be post-apocalyptic—Australia. Dungeons & Dragons characters are more dynamic.
Without getting into every nitty gritty detail, with each viewing, the film went from being okay, to inconsequential, to borderline intolerable for me. I could not understand the appeal of the film at all. But, I thought maybe the series could get better. So, I pushed onward.
Mad Max 2: Better, But Still Nothing.
Well, at least I got some desert stunt action.
Thankfully, the elements that created my borderline hatred of the first film are not here. This sequel film has much more of the crazed gear-head action I was hoping for. Yet, again, personally speaking, this sequel does not have a lot for me to care about. I need the tale to be either more heart-wrenching or more goofy.
The innocent folk Max is supposed to save are generic. The baddies they are fighting are also generic, and I do not find their BDSM outfits to be that compelling. Frankly, I don’t buy this world as a horrifying place, and, so, I don’t buy the gangs’ insanity, (which feels more like high school-grade acting than actually being disturbed), nor the desperation the piece tries to impart upon me. I like Max’s dog, but…I think anyone can guess why I bring this particular hound up in my list of complaints. The stunts are cool, the finale chase is pretty neat, but nothing sticks in my memory as being special.
What bugged me most was Max himself. Again, Gibson plays him not as, well, “Mad Max”: a guy a bit on the wild side of humanity. Instead, he plays him like a Hollywood hero: strutting around with snarky grins when he is not being egotistically stand-offish. I always imagined Max was the last good guy to help the innocent in this dead world. Instead, he is just a survivor—watching people get hurt from a safe distance and only helping these survivors because he can gain from them. Even when he does help them, it feels begrudging. Yet the film frames him as a mighty folk hero.
His bad attitude comes from his poor, generic wife and child dying in front of him. Well, to quote Rocket Raccoon from Guardians of the Galaxy:
“‘Oh, boo-hoo, my wife and child are dead!’ . . . I don’t care if it’s mean! Everybody's got dead people! It's no excuse to get everybody else dead along the way!”
In fact, one of the survivors Max gets involved with even calls him out on this very point! But Max is supposed to be our ‘80s action hero, and, so, he is not given any more nuance.
I was glad to get the bad taste of the first film out of my mouth, but moving on from this sequel, I hoped for something better.
Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome: So Close and So Far . . .
A popular meme can explain my feelings for me:
At first, Beyond Thunderdome finally gave me what I wanted in this series. An interesting plot centering around nuanced socio-political dynamics in this post-apocalyptic world. An exciting aesthetic in the central setting, Barter Town. Tina Turner as the antagonist, Aunty Entity, the leader of Barter Town—capable, fashionable, cool, and delightful. Max battles a fearsome opponent in the original and exciting death arena: the titular Thunderdome. “Two men enter! One man leaves!” YES!
But then the film went belly-up. Well, mostly.
Instead of exploring this compelling setting, Max gets exiled from Barter Town into the desert and gets roped in with a tribe of children with their own religion, language, and methods of survival. They are youths who survived a plane crash during the end times and have been waiting for their pilot, whom they assume is Max, to return and bring them to sanctuary. Eventually, Max (who, in his typical selfish jerk fashion, does not treat the kids well) and the tribe get involved with Barter Town again, and he does make a sacrifice play to let the kids fly free to their hopeful sanctuary of what is left of the city of Sydney.
Honestly, I could end up liking this film in time. Unfortunately, the switch in plot right in the middle of the film threw me off so much I disconnected from the rest of the flick. I thought the first part was much more interesting.
Thankfully, I did enjoy this film more than the last ones, and there is even an insane stunt involving the side of a moving train that sticks with me. I would be a liar if I said the climax did not have some emotional effect on me. Yes, Max himself still sucks, and the tale is nothing special for me, but this is the first entry in the series I actually enjoyed, even if in a small way.
Beyond Thunderdome gave me some optimism for the next entry, the famous installment that was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Picture.
Mad Max: Fury Road: Nirvana.
Last year, I wrote this review, rewarding the piece my rare rating of 5 out of 5 stars.
Mythic. Epic. Emotional. Refreshing. Rebellious. Thematic. Empowering. Tragic. Uplifting. Awe-inspiring. Original. Captivating. Imaginative. Gripping. Transportive. Exciting. Thrilling. Intelligent, as the series finally gives a plot worth giving a darn about with real characters having real stories to tell in a world that uses this post-apocalyptic setting wisely.
Like when I first saw Alien, I could not think of how the filmmakers made this film. Like a kid, I felt I was right inside this picture, verbally interacting with the tale. I have absolutely no qualms with placing this action film among the greatest legends of the genre, such as, say, Terminator 2: Judgement Day or The Matrix, which is enormous praise coming from me. Witness this film, seriously. Oh, what a picture! What a lovely picture!
This magnificent film is an instant, modern classic.
For one matter, Max, now played by Tom Hardy, is an improvement. He is actually crazy, nearly animalistic, and though ravaged by guilt for not being able to save people, his bad attitude is not rewarded nor estimated proudly. In fact, he truly changes in his journey to help the sublime heroine, Furiosa, bring a group of abused women to a better place, far from their evil pursuers who perfectly represent everything wrong with toxic masculinity and the patriarchy. Ultimately, despite being broken, Max chooses to be a hero without any selfishness and, thanks to Furiosa, learns there is hope for him yet. Beautiful.
Another matter of sheer beauty: Furiosa, played majestically by Charlize Theron. Furiosa is phenomenal. A heroine easily worthy of standing side by side with another beloved action lady: Ellen Ripley of the Alien series. Furiosa’s story is an example of how stories can strike the heart in the best of ways. She is the tale’s applicable Odysseus of The Odyssey, longing to return to a home taken from her. I myself suffer the same curse—exiled from California at 13 years old by financial ruin to the unhappy place that is Georgia, and, by the same causes, unable to traverse my own wasteland back home. What Furiosa discovers on her quest as she nobly tries to save these women from the heinous “men” hunting them down, is anguish that nearly destroyed my poor heart . . .
. . . and, yet, without compromise or lies, Fury Road also gives Furiosa a real hope, thanks in part to Max’s help, and gave me one, too. There is a future place for us to call home, and witnessing Furiosa learn this truth stirred a power inside me I could not believe. What a gift. What a blessing.
I was so moved by Fury Road that I worried the upcoming Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga, whose trailer motivated me to try this series again in the first place, would disappoint me. I almost did not see the film in the theater because of this fear.
Almost.
Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga: Nirvana Part Two.
Accompanied by my siblings, we drove almost an hour away to what I affectionately call, “The Last Dive Theater.” This small AMC Theater in a dead mall (the same bloody one I saw Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny in, curse those chairs!) is humble with good staff, but boy is it a seeming remnant of the ‘90s. I kind of dig it, to be honest. Anyhow, in one of the last showings of Furiosa, we three sat with only a few other people in a lowly house that did not start playing the movie until I asked management about the issue.
Nevertheless, per my film review of this picture:
Dreamy. Nightmarish. Wild. Unbelievable. Visceral. Soulful. Epic. An intense theater experience I am glad, even in the equivalent of a dive, I got to have. Here is a film that left my heart racing and my imagination running wild. Making a magnificent prior picture and glorious character even better, this dark, mesmerizing film cements the titular character as a modern legend; an icon of action for our times. I am still reeling from this picture. Oh, I will remember Furiosa.
If Fury Road is more like Meatloaf’s Bat out of Hell album, then Furiosa is, awesomely, more like a Florence+The Machine album. I felt trapped in a nightmare in that theater, and did not want the surrealism before me to end. I was in awe that Chris Hemsworth, an actor who I felt in the past could barely perform, played the villainous Dementus perfectly. I marvelled at how Anya Taylor-Joy played the young Furiosa with a scary-level of magnificence. The tale builds upon ideas and themes from Fury Road, including Furiosa’s longing for home, which, again, affected my heart deeply. My siblings and I left the theater with our hearts pounding like motor engines.
I was so moved by this film in particular that I ended up making this video for fun. (A hard one to make). When I recently re-watched the film, I was still in awe over how this cast and crew created a film unlike any other. Amazing.
The All-Mighty Takeaway.
If series creator, director, and writer, George Miller, a madman from Australia who, like the great David Lynch, did not originally come from a cinema background, had listened to my wishes, Fury Road and Furiosa never would have happened. He could have seen his growing talent and imagination as folly, and given up after that first Mad Max picture.
Instead, Miller, (based on my research on the man), practiced and practiced his craft. That first Mad Max film is one I kind of hate. But 36 years later, he created Fury Road, and nine years after that, Furiosa: two pictures that have genuinely changed me and the way I look at movies. Miller accomplished this feat by not quitting on his belief in his skills while also letting himself continuously grow as a filmmaker. Instead of being stuck on what I consider a near total failure of a film, Miller persevered, discovering more about himself and his art to create masterpieces I have fallen in love with.
While I make no claims to any excellence in my own writing, I have been writing with intent for 18 years and only first felt comfortable and stable with my work 4 years ago. If I ever tell a story another soul loves as much as I do Fury Road and Furiosa, then I will confidently say: at first, I sucked at storytelling; just like, in my mind, George Miller did. I presented a brief review of each installment of this series to show you the remarkable evolution of this saga because I want to instill within you a truth. As writers, we all suck, at first. But, so long as we continue practicing our craft and letting ourselves grow as people, we will get better and better. The trick is to not listen to anyone but yourself while leaving room in your heart and mind to change, experiment, look to the horizon.
If the first Mad Max was a failure, then said failure was a signpost on Miller’s quest to creating two modern works of cinematic myth. Do not give up after a failure or criticism: these misfires and hard times are likely the next step in your ongoing journey as a storyteller in all the right ways.
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