Mad Max: Fury Road Review

Charlize Theron as Furiosa in Mad Max: Fury Road

Spoiler free!

In my mini review I posted to Twitter the other day I claimed that Mad Max: Fury Road is one of the best action films I’ve ever seen, and, moreover, that director George Miller proves that monuments of cinematic splendor are still possible. This statement involves at least two main suppositions. The first is that few films of late have been spectacular, and second, perhaps the most in need of an explanation, is that this film is spectacular.

As to the first point, I have been worried lately whether I had passed the age of optimistic participation in summer escapist cinema. This summer’s other big blockbuster, Avengers: Age of Ultron, left me decidedly unimpressed, despite its CG-fueled visual spectacle (especially in the way the plot structure borrows liberally from the The Empire Strikes Back, from the downbeat tone, to the continual pursuit of our heroes by a sinister, fascistic overlord, to the none-too-carefully inserted romance–hell, both films even feature a besieged city in the clouds as their climax!). The astounding degree to which I enjoyed Mad Max: Fury Road, however, confirms for me that though my standards may be demanding, they are not unreachable. Fury Road is that rare entertainment that excites its audience without pandering to it. Unlike a great many films these days, Fury Road seems directed by an individual vision that is staggering in its scope, rather than the consolidated whims of executive meddling and countless focus tests.

The first clue that the film doesn’t insult the intelligence of its viewer is with the title itself: Fury Road is double-entendre that even a cursory viewing of the film would reveal. The subtitle hints that the film belongs as much to Max as it does to Charlize Theron’s Furiosa. Perhaps even more so to the latter, since Theron receives a great deal more to do in this film than Hardy’s Max, who isn’t even granted a line until midway into the film, and much of the dramatic heft rests on her more-than-capable shoulders. It is she who often commands both our attention and sympathies in their scenes together. In the process, Theron reminds us of the immeasurable talent that made her such a superstar, and DP John Seale mines her face for all its expressive riches.

Though not an obvious sequel, this film nonetheless continues the themes of myth and legend that had animated the two previous films in the series, and Miller here broadens their scope to a veritable foundation myth of human society, but places the emphasis on the female and the feminine. In so doing, Miller transcends the nihilism of his previous films and dares to hope for a future better the past. The film’s final moments capture Miller’s vision of a true egalitarianism between sexes, creeds, races and class. And yet, because this is Miller telling (and in some ways yelling) the story, he reminds us that this utopia can only be achieved through violent struggle, and through a balance of the masculine and feminine, which are denoted so concisely and repeatedly by Miller through the use of sand and water. In so doing, Miller may have just created the first truly feminist action film.

Perhaps the film’s chief virtue comes from Miller’s singular ability to sustain our attention for chase scenes that extend well past the point of fatigue. That, or the unmistakable fact that it’s all being done for real, in the camera. Don’t let the spectacular CG sandstorm touted so frequently in the trailer mislead you, this film features the most impressive practical stunts of any Mad Max film. (It also even manages to outdo their sustained runtime.) But these films aren’t memorable simply because they have lots of car chases, but rather for way these cars are so uniquely used. In Miller’s films, action is not a mere substitute for dialogue and characterization, it is the skillful deployment of these. In much the same way that a choreographer communicates through dance, Miller speaks through action. Like the Road Warrior, and completely unlike the hyper-edited Furious series, this film features sublimely orchestrated automotive ballet, or, to offer a clunky neologism, automoballet. It’s perhaps ironic that Miller, now pushing 70, seems one of the only directors capable of directing action and editing it together quite so spectacularly, seamlessly, and most important of all, coherently.

But what gives the film its most lasting effect is that Miller goes beyond mere mayhem and uses every texture, object and element of the world to convey multiple layers of meaning. Cars serve as costumes. Costumes serves as identities. A steering wheel is a weapon is a talisman is a relic is a metonym for an entire culture, and all of this conveyed with the simplicity of a dramatic arm raise. More than mere clever prop design, and the desire for a cool but entirely superfluous shot, the raising of the wheel aloft like some mechanic’s Excalibur immediately and unmistakably constructs this world for us within a second of screen time, and the film lasts for thousands. Another instance of this masterful method of world-building again involves a wheel, when Furiosa rubs the steering shaft for axle grease and smears this across her forehead as a tribal marking, or a communicative address, or something else–the two-fingered gesture itself seems symbolic of something richer in meaning and all of which Miller leaves for the audience to deduce.

Miller’s responses in the wonderfully brief pre-screening Q&A I attended perfectly speak to the film’s succinct and evocative construction. After a pitiful attempt from the professional film critic and impromptu questioner to plug his online site and drum up enthusiasm for his credentials, he then tried to corral Miller into answering a few questions. When asked why it had taken thirty years for Max to return, the director only shrugged and said, respectfully and serenely, that he’d been looking for something to say with Max in that time. When asked what that might be, the director only shrugged again and suggested the message was on the screen. “I feel like a kid who’s just finished a drawing, who takes it to his mom and dad and asks them to look at it,” he replied. “Well,” he gestured to the massive AVX screen towering above him about to show his glorious return to the franchise that made him famous, “this is my drawing, I wonder what you think.” The concise response seems fitting for a director whose movie strips itself of language, in which words are irrelevant and, moreover, even what few can be heard are often swallowed up in the clash of metal and the cry of engines and living gods. Mad Max: Fury Road opens May 15, and truly deserves to be remembered for a great while after.

Photo Finish: Brief speculation on what The Order’s new photo editor mode might mean for gaming

Ready at Dawn’s The Order: 1886 joins the ranks of other PS4 titles like The Last of Us RemasteredInfamous: Second Son, DriveClub to receive a photo mode. The video above offers a succinct, if cursory, overview of the photo editor in this game, which is roughly the same as the other games which feature a photo editor mode. Unlike those games, however, this photo editor mode allows the player to keep the filter options activate during gameplay. Whether players will actually want to play this (albeit brief) game through a knockoff instagram filter is uncertain, but the feature nonetheless points to an interesting future of game design in which the very cinematography of the game will be open to the player’s discretion to an unprecedented degree. Whether most players will approach this feature with the same way say Michelangelo Antonioni approached colour in film (which led Hitchcock to famously remark that Antonioni taught him how to see in colour) remains to be seen.

“Focus”: Film Review

Con artists are not lacking for terrific movies about them. Audiences were treated to a slew of them in the early 70s, starting with Joseph Mankiewicz’s masterful Sleuth, followed the next year by the Best Picture winning The Sting, which had Paul Newman and Robert Redford tag-teaming and two-three and even four-timing with aplomb. Even Orson Welles’ came out of quasi-self-imposed cinema exile to offer his still unparalleled film essay F for Fake in 1975, which continues to challenge audiences and critics alike with its ambiguous depictions of fraud and fakery. After the unmitigated failure of The Sting II, however, the genre quieted, with only a few treats in the 80s and 90s like John Cleese and Charles Chrichton’s caper A Fish Called Wanda and Minghella’s The Talented Mr Ripley. The genre arguably reached its heyday at the turn of the century, with Ocean’s Eleven providing a luxurious remake of a rather lackaidasical caper from the 60s, trading in that film’s notable Rat Pack for a slew of Hollywood elite, before Spielberg and Scott got into the game the following years with fine efforts like Catch Me If You Can and Matchstick Men, respectively. The makers of Focus seem at least partially aware of this rich history, indeed one of the film’s production companies is even called Ratpac-Dune (one named after the men, the other the former Las Vegas casino?), but rather than doing anything to enliven the genre, they struggle to offer anything remotely enjoyable.

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Forbes’ analysis of “The Order: 1886” game length is a bit short of the mark

Promotional image for Ready at Dawn’s “The Order: 1886”

In an opinion piece posted on Forbes today, Paul Tassi explores the debate of video game length, especially in regards to the recently leaked gameplay footage that clocks total time for The Order: 1886 at about five hours (the YouTube video has been since deleted, however, and Ready at Dawn has remained quiet on the issue). I thought I’d examine this article in more detail since my last post focused on a similar issue, examining it from the opposite perspective of too much story, writing about the narrative excess in Alien: Isolation–a game I found commendable in many respects, but ultimately far too long.

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On the Narrative Excess of Alien: Isolation

Amanda Ripley from Alien: Isolation

(Note: This analysis of the narrative of Creative Assembly’s ambitious game does not feature any spoilers until the final few paragraphs. I note in the piece at which point these spoilers begin, so those who have yet to play the game and don’t want to have the story ruined can still follow along until then. Bear in mind that I do speak obliquely about events in both Alien and Aliens, but then if you haven’t seen those films already then you should unplug your internet until you’ve done so.)

There is a moment, towards the finale of Ridley Scott’s Alien, as Ripley is making a last-ditch effort to escape the impending destruction of her ship, that she rounds a corner to find the titular creature blocking her only means of reaching the lifeboat. Frantic, Ripley abandons her plan, returns to the command deck and attempts to override the auto-destruct sequence. A moment too late, Ripley realizes in a furious panic that she must risk the corridor or die. The moment is one of utter terror and dread, complemented by the dazzling mise-en-scene of the spaceship in its turbulent death throes. Now imagine if Ripley had gone back to the lifeboat to discover its door sealed, and imagine also that she improvises a new plan, one that takes her down an elevator shaft, which leads to a new section of the ship, in which a maintenance android patrols the grounds, and she must run around turning off switches and logging into terminals to override doors, before getting into a spacesuit and walking along the outside of the hull to manually force her way into the lifeboat, which is carrying an alien that she then has to defeat. The scenario would be absurd, overdone, and would exchange the viewer’s panic and terror for tedium and frustration. Nonetheless, this contrived scenario roughly approximates the exercise in excessive paces that Alien: Isolation puts the player through.

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Recommended Reading: Quantum Dot LCD

A few weeks ago Digital Trends posted a useful, layman-friendly guide to the emerging technology of quantum dot technology and its impact on future TVs. Essentially the technology improves upon existing LCD screens by using semiconductive nanocrystals to produce faithful representations of colours (especially white). Though black levels still pale (pardon the pun) in comparison to OLED, quantum dots nonetheless improve the colour reproduction of those less costly LCD screens. Whatever the benefits or drawbacks, I find the technology behind the screens utterly fascinating.

Here’s the link for Digital Trends article:

http://www.digitaltrends.com/home-theater/how-quantum-dot-lcd-tvs-work/

Back in 2013, CNET offered its own jargon heavy guide to the same technology for those interested:

http://www.cnet.com/news/what-are-quantum-dots-and-how-could-they-help-your-next-tv/

About that Interview we’ll never see…

James Franco and Seth Rogen in the movie that was but never will be seen, The Interview

So let me get this straight: North Korea insists it had nothing to do with the cyber attacks against Sony, nor with subsequent threats against theatres daring to show The Interviewthat piece of purposefully political piffle–and then, in a bid to prove its innocence, demands to the US that it be involved in the investigation using the same threatening rhetoric as the hackers?

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Recommended reading: WIRED briefly explores the science behind Interstellar

The one and only stargate: The black hole at the centre of Nolan’s latest, Interstellar

If for no other reason than its fully working model of a black hole (that required 800 terabytes of data to capture), Nolan’s Interstellar will undoubtedly secure a vaunted space in the realm of science-fiction (or is it now more appropriate to label it as science-fact?):

http://www.wired.com/2014/10/astrophysics-interstellar-black-hole/

I am certainly looking forward to the scientific articles that Kip Thorne, the movie’s scientific consultant, is set to write after seeing the fruit of thirty years of work modeled before his keen and scrutinizing eyes. Whether I’ll understand any of it is a different subject to anticipate.

Darren Aronofsky Ought to Make an Oil Sands Documentary

Cenovus’ Christina Lake oil sands operation

Darren Aronofsky’s been making the rounds on the internet recently more for a piece of environmental writing published on The Daily Beast than for one of his films, so it seems to me the only logical next step would be to combine the two. Did anyone else notice that an incredible story readily discloses itself in Aronofsky’s diary? It reads almost like an environmentalist version of Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness, with environmental violations taking the place of slavery, the oil-profiteering Suncor dutifully filling in for the tyrannical slave-dealing Company, and things looking bleaker and grimmer for the human race as Aronofsky and his team travel upriver.

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