“Anything I say? What a wonderful philosophy you have.”
In light of its sequels, which include two renowned action classics, it’s essentially impossible for Mad Max to live up to the expectations with which first-time viewers approach it. Nowadays, most newcomers have seen Fury Road. But if not, the visual iconography and elevator pitches that have swayed them to check out the original are doubtlessly derived from the post-apocalyptic comic book flamboyance of The Road Warrior. Set against those accomplished efforts (we’ll ignore Beyond Thunderdome for the moment), Mad Max is a relatively less polished work—not without oddball charms all its own, but not the kind of transcendent genre film that might be worth recommending to non-genre fans.
Though the film does indeed provide an origin story for Max Rockatasnky (Mel Gibson), it is decidedly more interested in its setting, aesthetics, and action sequences than its characters or its story. Set in a near-future Australia where society is on the brink of collapse, it pits an underfunded law enforcement agency against a gang of outlaw bikers who thrive on chaos. After an opening scene sees a high speed chase culminate in the grisly death of Nightrider (Vincent Gil), Toecutter (Hugh Keays-Byrne), Bubba Zanetti (Geoff Parry) and the rest of the colorfully homoerotic gang begin to shadow every move that Max and his partner Goose (Steve Bisley) make, ultimately leading to the brutal treatment of Max’s wife Jessie (Joanne Samuel) and son Sprog (Brendan Heath) and Max’s transformation into a vengeful killer.
Certainly a retrospective viewer might be surprised by the sparseness of the offering here. The narrative is thin without having archetypes to fall back on and its weird structure fails to maintain momentum in its middle portion. But such shortcomings only matter so much in a “shoestring” film that more or less revolutionized what could be achieved in terms of action, carnage, and vivacity on meager funding. It’s definitely impressive when an independent film comes along and makes a pile of money (Max Max held the record for highest box-office-to-budget ratio until The Blair Witch Project took its place), but it’s even more impressive just how much high energy cinematic expression George Miller is able to squeeze out of his budget. David Eggby’s camera is often jammed right up against vehicles as they trade paint, or mounted on or inside them as they flip and spin and fly through the air. Impressive stunt work and explosions are commonplace and crafty editing (Tony Paterson, Cliff Hayes) captures the chaotic movements with a lucidity that simply had never been seen before. It’s truly a masterclass in economical filmmaking that essentially set a new standard for car chase choreography and cinematography.
Alongside the audiovisual tour de force of its high speed pursuits, Miller must be commended for smartly realizing a stunning depth of setting with minimal exposition. He and first-time screenwriter James McCausland position the skeletal story within a society on the brink of collapse due to an energy crisis; in a transitional period where marauders are on the verge of claiming their rule but have not quite ousted the official authorities. The framework of a functioning society is there, but even as Max clings to normalcy by trying to raise a family, and Fifi (Roger Ward) leads the police force with false, queer-coded bravura, the likes of Toecutter are overtaking and transforming the vestiges of civilization, tainting them with anarchy and mayhem. Of course, this setting allows Miller to shoot scenes in the dilapidated outskirts without much set design, keeping costs low, but through ostentatious costuming, the destruction of vehicles, and the perverted ethos shared amongst the gang members, the film presents a warped, eroding culture like those found in Walter Hill’s The Warriors or John Carpenter’s Escape from New York.
Some of its imitators have equaled it in terms of high-octane chases, and its own sequel is the more enduring film, but Mad Max is a minor classic in its own right.