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FURY ROAD's relentless, white-knuckled action was undeniably a spectacle. Still, its prequel takes a more nuanced approach, creating a richer narrative that prioritises character development and a deeper exploration of the franchise's lore. MAD MAX films are relentless and exhausting and that’s just the style. You have to strap in for the ride – but the changes of pace make it less desensitising.
FURIOSA is a veritable treasure trove. The wasteland we've come to know and, well, tolerate, is on glorious display here – a twisted wonderland of rust, bone and lots of Ben Nye Clean Grease, populated by larger-than-life characters with names that range from the metal to the plain ridiculous. The film also leans satisfyingly into the Bildungsroman aspect (brilliantly played by both Browne and Taylor-Joy), chronicling Furiosa's transformation from a sneaky and resourceful captive into a steely warrior. This focus on her odyssey makes FURIOSA deeply engaging, particularly for those who appreciate a narrative arc with meat on its bones (lizard meat and human blood sausage, anyone?)
So, the Citadel. I’m going to go on a massive tangent here because I love Victorian art, so bear with me. We’re on my blog here, so I may as well lean into what inspired me rather than write the same review as everyone else.
It was fascinating to see a mural lingered upon in a set that’s so visually bombastic. It’s almost a visual oasis. And in symbolism it’s so on the nose it’s delightful to me — a watery painting, painted by Waterhouse, at the citadel where Immortan Joe controls people with water. The painting is a calm scene with a deadly allure. A reminder that even in tranquillity there’s danger beneath. The painter is copying from an art book, a reminder that the original is long-destroyed. And that’s before you even think about the Pre-Raphaelite school of painting, which was preoccupied with mediaeval revivalism, mythology and, in general, an old world perceived as simpler and more beautiful.
It tells the story of Hylas, lured to his death by the nymphs. Oscar Wilde was obsessed with Hylas, mentioning him at least six times in The Picture of Dorian Gray and other works, including the sonnet Santa Decca: ‘Young Hylas seeks the water-springs no more…’
He is lamenting the death of gods. There are no gods in the wasteland. God has turned his back on the people. Only charismatic leaders provide false hope for their own ends. In the wasteland, beauty has no function. This couldn’t be further from the Pre-Raphaelite approach, which dictates that art can exist for art’s sake.
With its elemental nature, it’s also a reminder of where Furiosa has come from. The green place. A land of abundance, with fruit, “green stuff,” and water. Edenic.
Another layer to this is that the mural is an echo of “the wives”. Confined within the Citadel's opulent walls live a collection of young women seen purely as breeders and symbols of Joe’s power. Separated from the outside world by towering walls, their lives are a gilded cage, their bodies objectified and controlled.
This rigid gender binary is on full display in the architecture itself. The luxurious living quarters stand in stark contrast to the barren, utilitarian War Rig, a clear division between the roles deemed feminine and masculine. The inclusion of Waterhouse's painting within the Citadel throws a metaphorical wrench into this carefully constructed order. The bounty of nature it depicts, along with the subversion of power dynamics simmering in the scene, is a reminder of the power and agency that lie dormant.
Another of FURIOSA's triumphs is its portrayal of Chris Hemsworth's hypermasculine Dementus. This strutting peacock of a warlord in a blood-soaked cape, reminiscent of a Roman emperor (they even gave him a Roman nose!) embodies the dangers of unchecked power and, inevitably, meets a familiar downfall. Hemsworth is enthralling in the role, some of this down to George Miller's directorial approach. Encouraging Hemsworth to delve into Dementus' psyche by writing journal entries from his perspective certainly did the trick to add a layer of depth to the wasteland villain.
Some have despaired at his disappearing for a large portion of the film, but I would argue that it paints his prime and his degradation like night and day. By the end of the film, he’s a flailing, ranting shadow of his former self. As Furiosa relentlessly hunts him down, he admits with his arms raised the simple but impactful phrase, “I have nothing; I am nothing; I am yours,” which reminds us of Furiosa telling Immortan Joe, “If you find him, he’s mine.” Dementus being the first to admit his defeat makes it deliberately less satisfying, and that point is driven home when he straightforwardly tells her that her lust for revenge will never be satiated.
I haven’t even touched on other aspects I loved, but for fear of this getting too lengthy, I’ll summarise:
Tom Burke as Praetorian Jack was gorgeous. I’ve only ever seen Burke play right evil bastards, so this was extremely refreshing
I want to know more about The History Man. That’s probably my only criticism, that he was underused. Spinoff?
I didn’t stay for the post-credits scene because ya girl was TIRED
FURIOSA may not be the pure adrenaline rush that FURY ROAD was, but it offers a thought-provoking experience. The emphasis on character development, world-building, and thematic exploration makes this prequel a worthy successor, forging its distinct tyre tracks in our beloved wasteland. It's a broader epic and a testament to Miller’s world.