'Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga' (2024)
Anya Taylor-Joy is the diamond in this very particular, very jagged rough.
I regularly listen to the Brandon Sanderson/Dan Wells podcast Intentionally Blank, and in one such episode that I’ve neither the time nor patience to track down, they suggest that, if Star Wars never existed, we would probably be living in a world where the Mad Max franchise was filling that cultural gap. I’ve paraphrased the point here, but I generally agree with them; in another timeline, I fully believe that Zack Snyder is making a bunch of shitty Netflix movies called Rebel Pyramid.
I furthermore believe that this is a timeline we’d be worse off in, and not just because of Rebel Pyramid. Indeed, how, pray tell, can we have already arrived at the Furiosa solo prequel—a film that should prove the franchise’s ability to combine its one-of-a-kind aesthetic and kineticism with truly evocative storytelling—only to be met with the distinct feeling that we’ve run out of proverbial gas here? Props to the two leads, props to its major action sequences, and props to the totally unique genre space it occupies, but at the end of the day, the greatest feat of all three of those things is that it distracts from what’s actually going on here in Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga; absolutely nothing but stuff for the sake of stuff.
The movie stars Anya Taylor-Joy and Alyla Browne as Imperator Furiosa, whose journey we follow as she is kidnapped by the warlord Dementus (Chris Hemsworth) as a small child, escapes from his clutches, blends in with Immortan Joe’s army, and endeavors to return to the Green Place; the abundant land from which she was taken. Also on the cards, of course, is some full metal revenge aimed squarely at Dementus’ skull.
In fairness, there’s no denying that George Miller is every bit the set piece auteur that he’s always been here in Furiosa; the War Rig battles are straight out of an incisive, high-octane video game, there’s plenty of creative kills and problem-solving throughout, and the film generally has all you’d expect from a sand-strewn spectacle feature. This is all the undisputed bread and butter of Mad Max, and the franchise knows this, so there’s admittedly a very visible ceiling on how much one can honestly criticize it in the aggregate.
That being said, Furiosa has spotlighted that aforementioned bread and butter in a way the franchise might have preferred it not to. This is to say that, in Furiosa’s attempts to do something other than spectacle, it’s pretty grossly apparent how lacking its penchant for storytelling is. The whole movie is more of a loud, itchy, flammable vibe than a true odyssey for Furiosa; the action, while visually complex and satisfying, is really no deeper than the footsteps and pieces of metal that happen to carry the film through its 148-minute runtime. And as for the dialogue, it may be entertainment incarnate listening to Hemsworth’s caricature-y drone as Dementus (a character he’s very obviously having a blast with), but the overwhelming majority of the lines don’t branch much further than gonzo humor or graceless exposition, and those that do barely have a leg to stand on as a result of the film’s thoroughly discordant emotional weight and incohesive plotting.
The visual effects, meanwhile, have their bright spots thanks to Simon Duggan’s spatial awareness and the unmistakable set/costume designs that one would expect from a Mad Max film, but there are many instances where practicality makes way for a much choppier, much more artificial substitute; these instances will earn a wince or two from most.
Luckily, Furiosa, as previously mentioned, stars Anya Taylor-Joy. The thing about Taylor-Joy is that, regardless of how good or bad the material around her is, she always manages to not only give an excellent individual performance, but lift her surroundings up in the process as well. This is especially evident in Furiosa; the Imperator has very few spoken lines in the film (which isn’t so much a fault as much as it is a sign of faithfulness to Furiosa as a character), but when you have a leading lady who can communicate a solar system’s worth of sentiment with her eyes alone, that specific lack of dialogue is something you hardly notice. And while the gritty machine of Mad Max ultimately overpowers whatever favors she manages to do for the tragically murky heart of Furiosa, Taylor-Joy can once again hold her head up high after this one. Browne, steadfast and stoic as a younger Furiosa, can do the same.
All in all, Furiosa would have been the better subtitle over A Mad Max Saga; it’s a tall order to walk away from this film with a meaningful grasp on who any of these characters (both new and returning) really are, or what Furiosa’s story really represents. It’s true that Mad Max enthusiasts will have plenty to glean from a brand new conduit of the franchise’s singular attitude and action sequences, but as clips of Fury Road begin flashing up during the mid-credits sequence, some may come to the conclusion that this was nothing more than a worse version of the 2015 film.
And in saying that, one might think that Furiosa was always destined to just be a worse version of Fury Road, but in reality, the film could have absolutely carved out a softer and entirely engaging niche for itself if it had just taken the steps it needed to get the blood flowing in its storytelling fundamentals. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be bothered to do that. So, while Taylor-Joy, Hemsworth, and the perennial Mad Max adrenaline win their own individual days, Furiosa is a film that’s ultimately left in the dust.
Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga is now playing in theaters.