Now it’s a land of bondage gear and crossbows. There’s no vestige of the civilized world. Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior (1981) – Post-Apocalyptic Anarchyįrom Mad Max to The Road Warrior, we go from lawlessness to anarchy. In the process, he aids in the founding of two separate societies, giving others a chance to rebuild the civilization he’s abandoned. In the next two Mad Max movies, Max’s motives begin as self-interested and self-serving, he eventually shows his true qualities as a character. That’s not just an act of revenge carried out, it’s the obliteration of the ordered world.įifi’s line about the return of heroes sets up Max’s recurring reluctant heroism in the other films. One of the final shots of Mad Max is our hero driving off as an explosion goes off in the background. Off he drives out into the lawless wild, which is where he now belongs.
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He goes vigilante to get revenge, goes full anti-hero in his methods, and instead of returning to his seaside home, he leaves society for the road. Well, damn them! You and me, Max, we’re gonna give them back their heroes.” Max goes on holiday with his family to clear his head, which leads to a chance run-in with The Nightrider’s friends and the eventual tragedy that pushes Max over the edge.īy the end of the film, Max’s ordered and peaceful world is gone. His chief, Fifi, tries to convince him to remain on the force and delivers a key line: “They say people don’t believe in heroes anymore. After the grisly murder of one of his friends on the force, Max wants to quit so he can lead a normal life. The police force is in shambles, just holding on to some shred of order like the rest of civilization. You know things aren’t going to end well for Max and his wife because they have a cute way of saying “I love you.” This is generally a sign of someone’s eventual death in a movie, sort of like when a character develops a sudden and persistent cough. Which inevitably means this domesticity is doomed. (The hell kind of name for a kid is Sprog?) Home offers a semblance of order in a world that’s otherwise falling apart and unable to be saved. When not running down goons and making them cry, Max is back at his seaside house with his saxophone-playing wife Jesse and their cute toddler Sprog. Revenge, mannequin molestation, eccentric music cues, and general Ozplotation mayhem ensues. The Nightrider’s posse rolls into town looking to even the score. Max is a leather-clad cop in a muscle car who kills a punk called The Nightrider in a car chase. The first Mad Max is an origin story that the other movies will riff on and play with. What we get instead is a solid Ozploitation revenge movie, one reminiscent of a drive-in biker picture or a western about bandits hunting down the lawmen that done killed one of their kin. The world in the film is lawless and rowdy (i.e., the Platonic form of Australia?), but not the rusty, dusty S&M wasteland that would be seen in the subsequent films in the series. Mad Max, the film that started it all, wasn’t post-apocalyptic. Let’s look at each Mad Max film individually and figure out how they riff on and complement each other.
From a continuity standpoint, the movies have more in common with the Dollars Trilogy, the Zatoichi films, Jack tales, and the Zelda games. The Mad Max Trilogy may have recurring characters and tropes, but it’s less like a cohesive unfolding story and more like variations on a theme. (Gibson’s ugly fall as an anti-semetic, abusive wackadoo would take place many years later.) Lethal Weapon would then rocket him away in 1987.
The brainchild of director/co-writer George Miller, The Mad Max Trilogy marked the ascent of Mel Gibson’s career, propelling him to the cusp of bona fide stardom. Each film has a distinct personality, and each belongs in the badass canon in its own way. I have yet to see Mad Max: Fury Road, which comes out this week, but I did get a chance to see the first three Mad Max movies over the weekend at a friend’s place: Mad Max (1979), Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior (1981), and Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome (1985).
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