A third sequel that mostly consists of car chases is not where you usually look to find a masterpiece. But as C.G.I. superhero movies dominate an airless blockbuster landscape, the achievement of Mad Max: Fury Road becomes all the more important. Winner of multiple Oscars, the 2015 critical darling ranked on “best of the decade” lists by putting risk, grit, and bonkers excess back into action filmmaking. Fan reactions came straight from the gut. “It makes me feel more alive just watching it,” wrote one besotted admirer. “Pure cinema,” declared New York Times co–chief critic Manohla Dargis.
The fact that Mad Max: Fury Road exists as more than a mirage in the desert is a miracle. George Miller’s glorious post-apocalyptic action epic died a thousand deaths before shooting even began, in a desolate corner of Namibia. Head-spinning stunts on monstrous speeding vehicles, polar-opposite leads who acted as if they loathed each other, and a directorial vision hard to fathom in the absence of a traditional screenplay—these were all in a day’s work.
