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MAD MAX 2
(THE ROAD WARRIOR)
(1981)
DIRECTOR:
George Miller.
STARRING:
Mel Gibson, Bruce Spence, Kjell Nilsson, Vernon Wells & the '73 Ford XB GT Falcon.
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The apocalypse, when it finally kicks in, should resemble hell on earth. There will be no perfectly-shaven, obscenely muscular,
just-got-off-the-beach-after-50-press-ups-heroes with all their teeth and mental faculties intact.
Get this - despite his more recent annoying penchant for messing around with decaying shipwrecks 3 miles under the Atlantic ocean,
James Cameron had it right on the money with his tantalisingly brief visions of the future in the first two Terminator films. It
was all grime, skulls, incinerated play-grounds and take-no-shit chrome killing machines. Man is his own worst enemy, and the two
Terminator films portray that in a way that all the shitty CGI effects in the world and bull-shit McDonald's Happy-Meal-toy-tie-ins
can never replicate. Yeah, the future never looked better....
Shame to creative humanity they had to balls it up with unnecessary and homogenised, "sell it to the masses" sequels that were
rubber-stamped by fat fucks with cigars that have absolutely no artistic merits. THE CUNTS. But hey, fuck 'em. What do they know?
They only pander to the shit-buster, see-the-whole-plot-of-the-film-during the-30-second-Superbowl-promo,
yellow-crayola-on-a-storyboard-with a-MEGA-EXPLOSION-wielding-TWATS - ... like Bay, Emmerich and McG.
"McG".
What kind of a fucking name is that? Something to hide behind? How can you let some former advert and music promo hack take on the
reigns on what should be the most mind-blowing, relentlessly �excitingintellectuallyually� thrilling chapter of a fantastic franchise
that could run for eternity (well at least until the Stealth bombers get the red phone call)!? Didn't the studio look at his CV before
they signed him up for Terminator: Salvation? "Let's see.....Charlie's Angels? Hey yeah, let's go for this guy...". (Bludge note: it really does boggle the mind to understand why they picked McG to direct Terminator: Salvation. Do yourself a favour, piss yourself off and click on the big McG to check out his career history at IMDb.)
No, the anti-heroes of the atomically scorched nu-earth should look like "Mad" Max Rocatansky. It should be all mean Clint Eastwood
glares, stubbly, sunburnt faces and a serious love of beat-up leather outerwear. Not to mention a wonderfully lawless and selfish
world-view which every survivor would adapt in the face of the fall of mankind. Ironic for a former law-giver, ain't it?
Mad Max 2 (aka The Road Warrior) is perhaps the most influential and under-valued post-apocalyptic exploitation action film ever put
to celluloid. I remember first catching it on British television at a young age and being totally blown away by it's sparse,
take-no-prisoners mentality and the sheer energy and thrillingly violent tone of the picture. It was a risk-taking fantasy that
had Australia stamped all over it - from the desolated scenery of the endless outback - "the wasteland" - to the bizarre sense of
dark humour that is always just beneath the surface. Let's face it, the continent of kangaroos, Kevin "Bloody" Wilson and Paul Hogan
MUST have a sense of humour and probably much insanity to boot.
That's what make this picture so addictive and gives you that sense of :
"WHAAAAT? IT"S OVER.....NAH MAN, CARRY ON!! THAT WAS FUCKIN' AMAZING!!!"
We start the film with a brief B/W recap of the previous installment, before the world had gone tits-up. A husky narrator talks of
the break-down of civilisation and the dependency of the remaining survivors upon "juice" - black gold - over a montage of war footage
and rioting crowds. This is interspersed with footage from the original Mad Max - showing how his young family was massacred by "bikie"
thugs and his subsequent bloody revenge. The one-time lawman becomes a remorseless and lethal Road Warrior.
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After this brief exposition, we jump into the middle of a thrillingly orchestrated action sequence, hitting the desert highways of Oz
literally running, with Max (Mel Gibson) at the wheel of his customised Ford V-8 (The "last of the Interceptors") as he is pursued by a couple of
bikers who look like they have been extras in a Sigue-Sigue Sputnik video. It's all Motley Crue big hair and leather fetishes. But it
looks COOL AS FUCK. Which is pretty much the character description for Max - he is a 1980's "man with no-name" in the Eastwood mode,
all silent introspection and lightning-fast reflexes. He performs a series of edge-of-the-seat manouvers and easily sees off the bad
guys without breaking sweat. THAT'S what you want from an action anti-hero - balls, brains and the ability to keep it simple, no daft
catch-phrases or one-liners. (Only Arnie in his 1980's hey-day could quip after despatching a villan in routinely gruesome style could
carry that cliche off - like "HE HUD TO SPLIT". You get me?) |
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^^ A normal day in post-apocalyptic traffic. |
Max takes out the bad guys and has his first face-off with Wez (Vernon Wells). Ah, Vernon Wells. Remember his face? He was the psycho
camp baddie wearing fingerless leather gloves, salaciously worshipping his bowie knife whilst sporting a chain-mail vest in Commando.
He was also the psycho male rapist inmate in the fantastically trashy Christopher Lambert (Stuart Gordon directed) future prison romp
Fortress. If he isn't a creepily masochistic gay in the "Boy George" sense, he should seriously talk to his casting agent. Because in
Mad Max 2, his character is a violent biker with a mohawk, buttock baring leather studded chaps and a suspiciously close blonde male
partner who "rides pillion" with him during the first half hour of the film.
Anyway, Max escapes from Wez and co, coming upon a beat up old MACK truck. He has a mooch around, finds some precious fuel dripping
from the tank of the wreckage. He then opens the cab doors, when a horribly disfigured corpse tumbles out onto him in a Jaws
head-falls-out-of-boat SHOCK moment. He finds a tiny hand-operated mechanical musical toy in the hand of said body, which when played emits
"Happy birthday to you" in jolly chimes. A wonderfully dark "Sergio Leone" moment, the first of many off-beat touches that really make the film.
As Max continues along the wasteland highways, he finds a strange-looking vehicle at the side of the road, seemingly abandoned.
Ever the scavenger, he stops off to investigate, seeing that the machine is draped in the coils of a vicious-looking snake. With a deft
flick of the wrist, he catches it by the neck, when suddenly, out from a hidden fox-hole behind him nearby springs "The Gyrocaptain"
(Bruce Spence) armed with a crossbow and screaming the immortal line:
Gyrocaptain:
"DAAN'T ERT THE SNAAAAKKEE!!!" (Apologies to any Australians reading this - my handle on the vernacular is under development).
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Right, so the immortal Bruce Spence, what a character. If you ask me, he should have a statue or some kind of momument erected down under
in his honour. He's a remarkable creature - A severe case of caries, a face that looks like some kinda twisted collaboration between Salvador
Dali and Walt Disney, and a hyperactively demented presence that comes across somewhere between the Scarecrow from Wizard of Oz
(appropriate, eh?) and Wile-E-Coyote. And as for the dress sense - unparralled. A vintage WW2 flying helmet, full-length duster jacket
that looks like he found it in the local rubbish skip, a jaunty pink scarf, with a hideous pair of yellow leggings. You couldn't make it
up, really. Did I mention that his freakish vehicle - in actuality a tiny helicopter - has images of topless women plastered across it?
Nice touch that....
Max ends up outwitting the Gyrocaptain by unleashing his pet blue feeler dog on him, easily disarming him and threatening to kill him,
that is until insane fly-boy blurts out that he knows where there is a settlement in the wasteland that is producing huge quantities
of oil (hard currency in this post-atomic hell).
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Grip me tighter, exposed nipples blonde man. ^^
Does anybody remember SNL's cartoon - 'The Ambiguously Gay Duo'? Well, here's the carbon based version of them, seemlessly mutated with members of Twisted Sister.
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Gyrocaptain:
"Refinin' they are...Ka-chunk, Ka-chunk, Ka-chunk!!"
Mad Max:
"Where!?"
Gyrocaptain:
"Kill me 'an yer'll never find aaat.."
So Max takes the flyer hostage and heads further into the desert, eventually reaching a huge natural plateau that overlooks the refinery.
A ramshackle oil-rich fortress literally located middle of nowhere, populated by a bunch of strangely familiar character actors
(like: wasn't she in Home and Away?). Max stakes out the place from afar, seeing hordes of nasty-looking bikers circling the buildings,
looking to break in and steal the gasoline.
The next morning, he witnesses several settlers in cars making a desperate run for it in an attempt to escape whilst the bikers are seemingly
away. They soon reappear however, and the runaways are brutally run down, tortured, raped or taken hostage (if they are exceptionally unlucky...).
Max abandons the still-chained Gyro-captain and races down to the action, eventually zeroing in on one badly wounded survivor (after braining a
lone biker who has just had his wicked way with the guy's lifeless missus) and cuts a deal with him - as much gas as he can carry in his V-8 in
exchange for the guy's life (he is skewered to his wrecked dune-buggy by a cross-bow bolt, Deliverance style). Deal done, out come the trusty
pliers (OUCH). It's the sadistic pleasure which George Miller and his crew obviously take in lensing such gory moments that really slap your
head about whilst watching them. Here's a film with balls, grit and wit - none of your Hollywood ratings-system approval crap.
Max takes his breathing oil-ticket into the fortress, and is ushered inside by the inhabitants, who regard him as just another scavenger from
the wasteland, aiming their improvised weaponry at his cold-blue eyes. Pretty understandable really... since deep down that is all he has become.
Unfortunately for Max, the guy he rescued promptly snuffs it on him before he can confirm they had a deal (bad movie manners that). Our hero
(of sorts) is summarily handcuffed, and his V-8 and weapons confiscated. |
At this moment, suddenly the biker gang reappears, and the refinery inhabitants panic, manning their wonderfully rickety flame-throwers and
cross-bows, closing the entrance to the fortress (a large yellow school-bus with armor plating on the starboard side). The bikers menacingly
pull up outside, revving their motors in an unholy orchestra, until they are halted with a hand gesture by The Toadie (Max Phipps), a weaselly little
gang member with what appears to be a giant skinned fruit bat on his head (the casting director of this picture is one sick genius - as is
the costume designer). Toadie then yells out the famous line:
Toadie:
"Greetings from The Hu-mungus! The Loooord Hu-mungus! The War-rior of the Waste-land.... The Aya-tol-lah of Rock and Rol-la!"
Humungus by name, Humungus by nature. |
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^^ This is what you call Jason Voorhees pumped on steroids & as horny as a ten peckered owl at a desert location Mardi Gra! |
Up steps the main bad guy, looking for every oiled pectoral like the bastard love child of a He-Man action figure and a steroidal S&M practitioner.
It's all leather, studs and a hockey mask he must have ripped off the face of Jason Voorhees. He speaks with a weird raspy East-European accent to
the refinery, over a microphone he has rigged to his death-truck. Two poor helpless buggers who earlier attempted to escape are strapped to the
front of the vehicle, screaming out to their horrified companions in protest. They are silenced by a swift head-butt to the chest from Toadie,
followed by a neck-breaker from Wez, the Mohawk donning loon seen earlier in the picture.
Then up pops The Feral Kid (Emil Minty), a grotty little cave-kid with a magnificent mane of straggly hair and an innocuous looking boomerang. I defy anyone
who has already witnessed what happens next in this NOT to have a vivid flashback. It�s the stuff that made a million childhoods spent in darkened
living rooms all worthwhile. The little brat flings his weapon out, and it soars above the heads of the bikers, who all stare in fascination. He
catches it with a steel glove, and lets rip again, launching it into the forehead of the blonde �him-bo� who rides with Wez with a satisfyingly loud THUNK!.
Enraged, Wez lashes it back at the kid, who ducks out of the way. The razor sharp blade whirls away, chased by Toadie. He leaps up, and in one of
the best gore moments ever captured on camera, has his out-stretched fingers sliced cleanly off to the sarcastic laughter of his fellow gang members.
The Feral Kid performs an exquisite back-flip and scurries away, escaping into one of his secret tunnels that criss-cross the wasteland. It was moments
like this that seared a hole in my brain watching this film as a child. But the use of humour is brilliantly dark. To see if anyone shares your twisted
sense of humour, show them that scene and see if they chuckle... I do! Every time.
Anyway, Wez goes ape-shit and urges the gang to bust into the refinery and slaughter all the inhabitants. He is gripped by Humungus (Kjell Nillson), who basically
chokes him into submission with his immense arms.
Wez:
They kill us, we kill them! Kill them! Kill them! Kill! Kill!
The Humungus:
Be still my dog of war. I understand your pain. We've all lost someone we love. But we do it my way! We do it my way. Fear is our ally.
The gasoline will be ours. Then you shall have your revenge.
With that, the unconcious Wez is carried away, Toadie scrapes around looking for his digits, and Humungus urges the settlers to "just walk away" and
he will spare them - if they leave the refinery intact. And with that, the bikers clear off. The refinery settlers then argue amongst themselves about
what to do next. Some factions wish to leave, others want to negotiate with Humungus. To which Mad Max retorts in a strangely Australian, pre-Lethal Weapon accent:
Mad Max:
"Two days ago, I saw a vehicle that would haul that tanker. You wanna to get out of 'ere? You talk to me...." .
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A deal is banged out. If he can provide the refinery with the huge Mack truck (seen at the start of the film) Max can have his V-8, and all the fuel he
can carry. He trudges out of the camp at dark fall with two huge cans of diesel. Evading the nearby bikers with the help of Feral kid, he makes his way
out on foot across the wasteland, with only his trusty dog for company. Where, he finds the hapless Gyrocaptain, still chained up, wearily dragging a
huge chunk of tree behind him. Ever resourceful, Max catches up with him and forces him to carry the fuel instead. What a card! The long trek is enlivened
no end by Gyrocaptain listing all the things the terribile atomic apocalypse has taken from him.
Gyrocaptain:
"You know what l miss most of all? Clean women, nail polish, perfume, the smell of bicycle seats, cocktails, desserts... lingerie. Remember lingerie? |
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^^ Mel Gibson after one day of no alcohol. |
They then reach the tiny helicopter, which has a couple of stray dead biker scavengers lying about it, victims of the dreaded guard-snake. After rooting through
the corpses and finding some precious ammo for his police issue shotgun, Max orders the Gyro-captain to fly them to the Truck. What an incredible machine.
Every bit the equal of the "Little Nellie" chopper seen in that Bond film. Except it can take two! Magic.
The mismatched duo finally reach the truck, and after some tinkering, manage to get her started up. Despite protests from Gyrocaptain about them being "Partners...
you n' me, mate! We're PARTNERS", Max leaves him and roars away, tossing him the keys to his chains. He eventually pulls up for a brief moment before his approach
back to the refinery, checking his shotgun, scanning the dusty wasteland horizon ahead. He knows he has to run the gauntlet of Humungus and his hordes. Watching
it still gives you that tingle in the spine; you just KNOW there is a kick-ass action scene coming up. Director George Miller frames it perfectly, and masterful
editing drives the viewer anticipation levels through the roof.
What follows is a textbook exercise in old-school, no CGI, stuntmen-in-real-peril film making. Hell, I ain't even gonna try and describe it. Sorry folks, but its
all visual. And my superlative vocabulary memory bank would run dry after maybe 30 seconds. It's just sheer visceral entertainment. Watch it here, that's all that has to be said.
Still here? Thought so. Quality innit? Now you've been attentive enough during this review and checked out YouTube or your DVD or even beat-up VHS/BETAMAX
(remember that shit?) copy of the film to be blown away by said scene, we can continue.
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Max duly gives the refinery the truck, and makes to leave, despite offers to join the settlers in their exodus to "Paradise, 2000 miles away..." He's still the loner,
the man-with-no-name. He even shuns the Feral Kid, who despite not having the ability to talk, expresses a heart wrenching "pulleeeease??" type look that reminds
me of my mother's pet dog after I have given him a walk.
Come first light, Max makes a break for it, and despite his super-charged V-8, he is eventually overpowered by Humungus, Wez and co. His Ford Interceptor is trashed a
nd he is badly wounded. His pet dog (which somehow survived the brutal crash without a dog-belt, but hey, we'll skip the physics/anatomy lesson 101 for a moment - don't
spoil the moment you fucking nit-picker) is executed crossbow-method. Not since I was 5 years old watching that EWOK FUCK getting wasted by stormtrooper laser-fire
have I mourned the death of such an innocent beast.
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We can't stop here - this is bat... I mean - gyrocopter country! ^^
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But then I hit adolescence, started doing drink and drugs, watched loads of Bill Hicks videos and developed that
emotion you mere humans refer to as "CYNISCISM". So now I just find it funny (and before ya'll protest, no animals were harmed during the writing of this review, other
than head lice, you freaks).
Thankfully, Max has an ace up his sleeve; namely that self-destruct device on his car that is rigged to POP if any greedy fucker tampers with his gas tank (Sorry, it
should�ve been mentioned way back when he first met Gyrocaptain about 2000 words back in this review, but in all the excitement it slipped my mind). Cue one HUGE explosion,
and a few dead bikers (including, tragically, Toadie). Thinking Max is finally "brown bread" (as we Scousers - that is inhabitants of Liverpool - refer to the term "DEAD"),
Wez and company clear off.
In a hallucinogenic scene Oliver Stone, Dennis Hopper or Ken Russell would be proud of, who heroically swoops into view to rescue our battered and half-dead ex-lawman?
Why, it's Biggles himself of course. He puts Max onto his chopper and flies him back to base, where the settlers have tuned up and armed to the gear-teeth the Mack he
brought them into a fearsomely big "T-rex on 12 wheels". Even King Kong would have trouble wrestling with this monster truck. Despite his terrible injuries, Max insists
on driving said machine, which is to act as a battering ram, diverting the majority of the biker gang away from the refinery and giving the settlers a real chance to
make a decent run for it. The settlers realise that despite his condition, he is the best real chance they have to escape and finally agree that he should drive the
truck, gasoline and all.
OK, this is it. Now I like to write. I can paint a picture with words (modest ain't I?). But the final action scene (which lasts for around 15 minutes) is beyond words.
If you've lasted this far, you're just gonna hafta trust me and WATCH the fucking thing.
Here's something for you:
'Raiders of the Lost Ark' also came out in 1981, and featured (amongst other undeniably great action scenes)
a KILLER horse-truck-nazi-motorcycle-jeep chase.
Miller's 'Mad Max 2' makes Spielberg's effort look like a kid in his sand-box with die-cast fucking toys.
It's the closest you will get to seeing stuntmen actually getting squished by real wheels.
It's a no-dialogue action scene that you will fantasise about next time you are on the freeway.
Enough of the breakdown, we need a coda here methinks.
That's it, dear readers. Been real fun relaying my love of this picture to y'all. I kinda feel like I've just acted this entire fucking film out
"one-man-Star-wars-trilogy-style" (check it out here - its GENIUS stuff).
I will be back to describe/dissect/destroy another great film (or not so great...) in the near future.
Until then, the words of notorious USA 80's serial killer Richard Ramirez upon word of his death sentence:
"I'll see you in Disneyland".
xx
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Mad Max 2 brutally and respectfully earns itself: |
5 OUT OF 5 JAGER-BABIES. |
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