Review: Mad Max


Elite cop Max Rockatansky (Mel Gibson) and his partner Goose (Steve Bisley) have the dangerous task of patrolling the streets and clashing with feral, punkish gangs featuring psychos like Nightrider (Vince Gil, in a ridiculous performance, though with corny lines stolen from AC/DC’s “Rocker”, it’s somewhat compellingly silly), who is killed during a chase with Max. His friends, led by the oh-so mildly eccentric Toecutter (Hugh Keays-Byrne, who makes Andy Dick seem restrained), are none too happy and set about revenge, first by getting rid of Goose, and then terrorising Max and his family (including wife Joanne Samuel). Roger Ward is the burly, bald, leather-loving police chief with the ever-so masculine name Fifi Macafee (seriously, what gives with that name?), and Jonathan Hardy is the police commissioner. Look out for several alumni of Aussie TV show “Prisoner” (who in addition to Gil who had a guest role on the show, include series regulars Sheila Florence and Amanda Muggleton, guest star Lulu Pinkus, as well as bit player Hardy) in various roles.


Striking, Australian classic from 1979 directed by George Miller (“The Witches of Eastwick”, “Babe”) is a macho, muscular, feral, and surprisingly unnerving experience. That last quality putting it a bit ahead of its more famous sequel and certainly ahead of the ambitious but meandering second sequel (Not to mention the zillion or so rip-offs it spawned). I really think this one’s the best in the series, rough as it sometimes is. This one, amazingly Miller’s directorial debut, has some brilliant set pieces, between a few lagging moments where bugger-all is going on. It’s kind of like a biker movie mixed with “Straw Dogs” and set in an ugly, anarchic but still identifiable near-future. The fact that the future is still depicted in a realistic (if sometimes heightened) way, really helps sell this is more than just a violent pop fantasy, and into something altogether different.


Gibson makes for an iconic presence, if not giving a profound performance (not that I’ve ever seen him give a dud performance either), the show is stolen by colourful supporting performers Bisley (with ridiculously bleached eyebrows), Keays-Byrne (compellingly bizarre), and the imposing Ward (whose attire at times is also compellingly bizarre). Top-notch stuntwork, too, with lots of exciting and scary-looking chases and stunts. A must for petrol-heads to say the least, and an important film in the fabric of Australian Cinema.


The only drawback with the whole film? The awful, overstated and corny music score by Brian May (“Turkey Shoot”, “Gallipoli”, “Roadgames”), which makes the whole thing a bit sillier than it otherwise would’ve been.


Rating: A-

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