Movie Review: "Ex Machina"

Ex Machina (2015)

R

5 Stars out of 5

Director/Writer                 Alex Garland

Domhnall Gleeson           Caleb
Oscar Isaac                        Nathan
Alicia Vikander                 Ava
Sonoya Mizuno                Kyoko

 

Like “Under the Skin”, “2001: A Space Odyssey”, or “Cloud Atlas”, director/writer Alex Garland’s “Ex Machina” uses science fiction to brilliantly explore topics not easily examined in other genres: male/female power relationships, male roles in society, the importance given to superficial appearances, what it means to be human, and above all else the role that lying plays in everyday human experience. Almost every aspect of “Ex Machina” comes together to produce a film that will stand as a classic definition of not only what can be done with science fiction, but a movie that can stand just like “2001” as an icon for big ideas intelligently explored in film.

“Ex Machina” begins with a young programmer, Caleb (Domhnall Gleeson) winning a company-wide contest to spend a week with his company’s CEO and founder, Nathan (Oscar Isaac). Nathan is an amalgam of contemporary technology-based corporate titans such as Steve Jobs, Mark Zuckerberg, or more to the point in terms of actual technology, the two founders of Google: Larry Page and Sergey Brin. Nathan wrote the code at age thirteen that formed the basis his company, Blue Book (its name surely also an amalgam from Blue Tooth and Face Book). However, while Nathan has advanced in chronological age from thirteen to roughly thirty-five, he remains emotionally a teenager, as the naïve Caleb will soon discover once he reaches Nathan’s fortress-like home somewhere (seemingly) in the middle of Glacier National Park.

When Caleb first meets Nathan, the latter is busy flexing his muscles by pounding on a punching bag. Nathan mixes his language to Caleb with a hearty brew of frat-boy “bro’s” and “dudes”. He exudes his acquired alpha male status on multiple occasions by dismissing any comment he considers contrary by Caleb – this is no meeting of equals despite Nathan’s exhortation to Caleb that he consider it so. Nathan has brought Caleb to his home/laboratory in order that Caleb might assess whether or not a robot with artificial intelligence capabilities built by Nathan would pass the Turing Test. This test simply put is whether or not an AI when hidden from view from the tester would be indistinguishable from a human. Nathan has decided to up the ante in his test. He has made a sexualized female robot that is clearly a robot. He states this makes the test that much more difficult to administer and to pass. Will Caleb knowing that the robot named Ava (Alicia Vikander) be able to convince him that she is self-aware and actually thinking, not just simulating the same? Adding to the complexity is that Ava  has been built to look and act feminine within the constraints that she must also clearly be artificial and not organic in terms of her origins.

Thus ensues a series of interviews between Caleb and Ava that are set apart as if in chapters. It is a kind of cat and mouse game between Ava and the intelligent but confused Caleb, but also between Ava and Nathan as he watches unseen via cameras and audio hook-ups designed to let him observe. Nathan is helped to some degree by the mute Kyoko (Sonoya Mizuno), someone Nathan claims can neither speak nor understand English. As the movie progresses, I was compelled almost from the beginning to start watching each scene and wondering whether the character was lying or not. Nathan with his unstable behavior of alternating intelligence, his belligerence, his constant heavy drinking seems to exude a kind of malignity that screams, “be careful Caleb, you are in danger”. This theme is bolstered early in the movie when Ava during one of the frequent electrical failures which she believes shield her from Nathan’s prying eyes, gives the same warning to Caleb, “Nathan is not your friend”.

But is Ava, Caleb’s friend? He stares at her longingly from the beginning. His focus on her face and hands, the only parts made to look human, allows him to forget that she is not human. It allows him to indulge his young male’s desire for feminine company, even as her programming (?) permits that she act as any young woman in her forced isolation would do. For her situation is not only peculiar in that she is a robot playing the role of a woman, she is also a “woman” in peril. Nathan has locked her into her room and will not permit her to roam freely throughout the house, let alone escape it to the outside world. Her peril is made that much more clear when she asks Caleb what will Nathan do with her once the “Turing Test” is concluded, pass or fail. Caleb states he does not know, but he worries, and his worries are made even more manifest once he learns from Nathan that like the earlier models of Ava 9.0, she will be re-made. She will lose all memory of the Ava that Caleb has come to know. Both Ava and Nathan make it quite clear to Caleb, Ava is in danger.

But who speaks the truth in this movie, what is Nathan’s, Ava’s, or even Kyoko’s agenda? As the movie progresses, it becomes increasingly clear that like Dr. Frankenstein, Nathan has started to think of himself in a God-like role. And yet, like the most typical of adolescent male tech nerds, he also dwells on the idea of a beautiful woman that is in thrall to his every whim. Has Nathan made Ava’s 1.0 to 9.0 to indulge his sexual desires, to become more God-like in his stunted emotional state, to exercise his formidable creativity, or more likely as with every flawed human, some combination of each, of good and evil? And what of Ava, does she truly have an interest in Caleb or is he merely as tool to attain her freedom? Should she attempt to pass the Turing Test and gain that freedom, or is that a fantasy; must she instead and unlike the generic woman-in-peril gain her freedom by taking it for herself by using the men that oppress her or stand in her way? Even the silent Kyoko, her hidden facial movements having revealed on more than one occasion that she too has her own agenda, what is it that she wants?

“Ex Machina” explores in careful detail each of these questions and brings the movie to a satisfying close; a close that suggests the gap between machine and human intelligence is narrower than one might think, especially when it comes to desires for personal freedom. Additionally, it suggests that lying and deception are behaviors that humans utilize so well in order to get their way, that that was the final test of Ava’s consciousness – that she not only sought her freedom but was sufficiently intelligent and self-aware that she could and would employ that most human of traits, lying to achieve her ends. And of course, not just lying, but violence of a very dispassionate nature would also be used by Ava to get her way - you can't get much more human than that.

But “Ex Machina” is really so much more. Watch how Caleb self-deceives himself about Ava. Of course Ava saw it too and used it to her advantage. But what is Caleb really thinking when he thinks of Ava? Does he focus solely on her all too beautiful human face and completely forget that physically she is anything but human. Does he stop to wonder at the nature of the mind within Ava’s physical form, at its so non-human origins? What possibly could such a mind value and want; is there any overlap with Caleb's mind? Does he really believe that her Google/internet models of human behavior make her human (let alone female) in any manner? Or is he simply reacting as his male genes have programmed him? He sees the feminine parts of a thing, and his maleness drives him as if he too were a machine programmed to seek out and mate with such a “female”. In what ways is his behavior any less programmed than hers?

That “Ex Machina” discusses these topics carefully but in a manner that is not off-putting, is testament to the writing. That the viewer can readily identify the character type played by Oscar Isaac is proof of his fine acting (see him also in 2014’s “A Most Violent Year”, or HBO’s 2015 “Show Me a Hero”). In a far more subtle role of Ava where Swedish actress Alicia Vikander has little more than her face and voice, the actress must display a kind of pseudo-naiveté that suggests vulnerability and yet seems to conceal a kind of powerful intelligence. There is also one very carefully choreographed scene where after appearing to Caleb in a woman’s dress and wig, she slowly and seductively removes a piece of hosiery. Did she presume that Caleb was watching, was she continuing her act, her seduction of the miserably confused Caleb, or like the disguised female alien in "Under the Skin" played by Scarlett Johansson, has Ava come to actually think of herself as a woman? (Think about how both films have the nude female alien or robot "admire" or check themselves for errors in the mirror - what is each thinking: I'm beautiful or my disguise is perfect? it is far from clear in either movie.)

There are so many sophisticated topics and they are portrayed so beautifully within “Ex Machina” that it is hard to stop describing them all. For me though, this movie hearkens to the equally brilliant “Under the Skin”. Humans are so programmed by our culture, our childhood, and our genes, that when we see an array of fruit arranged in the shape of a face, we define being mentally sound by our ability to see the face. In “Ex Machina”, Caleb sees very little more than a human woman’s face on the body of a robot, but he evidently and despite his clear intelligence and awareness of the situation, responds only a woman, not to a robot with a human face. He responds as a man. Humans so rarely look past the skin; we so rarely notice the evidence that our eyes and brain could pick up of telling differences from conventional humanity, and we respond as if the alien or robot before us is indeed human. Of course, reacting as humans is yet another big topic: what we do to achieve our ends, what lies we tell, what atrocities we will commit, all with the end goal of achieving our desires. “Ex Machina” explores these topics so deftly, I feel certain it will join “2001” and a few others as a classic example of what science fiction and film can accomplish.

 

Book Review: "Island Beneath the Sea" by Isabel Allende

Island Beneath the Sea (2009 in Spanish/2010 in English)

3.0 Stars out of 5

Isabelle Allende

English Translation: Margaret Sayers Peden

457 pages (hardcover version)

Isabel Allende has written eighteen books of fiction plus four of non-fiction. “Island Beneath the Sea” is her 15^th. As a Chilean-American (born in Peru to a Chilean diplomat; lived in America since 1989) she gained early notoriety by writing in the magic-realism genre (see “The House of the Spirits” – 1982); so much so, that “magical feminism” is a term that has been coined to reflect Allende’s particular use of sagas that feature strong willed women spread out over several generations. Sadly, “Island Beneath the Sea” is a reasonably interesting book of historical fiction concerning late 18^th century slave life in Haiti and Louisiana but it contains little “magic” of the fantastic or artistic variety.

“Island Beneath the Sea” is the life story of Zarite born a mulatta slave in Sant-Domingue. For all but those closest to her, Zarite is known as Tete. Tete is sold as a young teen to a beautiful courtesan known as Violette, another woman of mixed race (a “quadroon”), but one that had never been a slave. Violette has fairly high status in Saint-Domingue amongst the wealthy land-owners from France. One such owner in particular, Toulouse Valmorain adores Violette and relies heavily upon her for advice as he prepares to marry a young woman from Cuba. He buys Tete from Violette in order that the young slave might care for his bride to be at his sugar plantation (Saint Lazare) near Le Cap. Valmorain at times seems to have mixed and self-contradictory views towards slavery, but in the end, he very nearly never fails to regards slaves as slaves and not as humans.

Tete cares for Valmorain’s new wife as she slowly falls into madness and gives birth to a young boy. Even before his mad wife dies, Valmorain forces himself on Tete and fathers two children, first a boy and then a girl by Tete. Valmorain takes the boy from Tete as an infant but allows Tete to raise the girl. As Valmorain starts to sink into a dissolute life, so does Saint-Domingue start to fall apart as a colony. The brutal treatment of Africans bears bitter fruit: a slave rebellion that causes France to lose control of their island colony to various factions, but most notably to one led by Toussaint Louverture. As the rebellion rises to a fever pitch of revenge and violence, Valmorain flees his plantation for Le Cap. He displays very little courage or later gratitude as his life is saved by Tete. She is near death as she nears Le Cap still caring for Valmorain and his children (legitimate and illegitimate). Valmorain and Tete eventually manage to escape Saint-Domingue (now Haiti) for New Orleans where Valmorain sets up a new plantation using stolen funds. He continues his abuse of Tete never really understanding her or thinking of her as a human until his own death nears.

Allende has woven an interesting historical tale of life in late 18^th century Haiti. She is able to describe with considerable horror the life of a sugar plantation slave: brutally short and lacking in any sense of humanity. As one reads this book, one is quickly filled with loathing for the white French that so casually used and abused the Africans they kidnapped from their homes. Her descriptions of the short life these poor people led as they worked and died in the cane fields is sadly the high point of the novel. It is enlightening and depressing to learn of the active tortures they endured at the hands of the overseers, but even more so as they have their humanity stripped from them right along with their freedom. How anyone in modern America can look back at slavery and come to the conclusion that the slaves (or workers as such apologists would like to refer to them) had lives worth living is completely beyond me.

Allende is clear in the degradations suffered by the slaves of Haiti, and reaches whatever subtlety she does achieve in “Island Beneath the Sea” (btw: Island Beneath the Sea is the slaves’ concept of Heaven) when she writes of the life-long struggle Tete makes in order to live as a free woman. Even more important to Tete is that she is able to obtain the freedom of her daughter; the daughter to Valmorain as well; a daughter he thinks of as no more than property and an embarrassment to his white Louisianan wife. But these points aside there is no real nuance to this story or to the characters. Tete is somewhat well described as is Valmorain, but they are quite frankly two-dimensional; neither shows any real character development nor any real understanding of their situations. Their story and that of those around them simply does not dwell on the nature of Man vs. slave; it merely describes them.

There is value in reading such a description but this subject material offered a rich topic on which much more might have been built. Instead of dwelling on the clothing of the various characters or their too rich diet, some thought could have been spent on what they thought. As noted, there is no magic in this book, there is no novelty in how it is told or in the characters. Allende comes close in her descriptions of Tete’s devotion to dance and the hallucinogenic state she enters when she dances. Tete feels she is “mounted” by her voodoo Goddess Erzulie, and there is almost (almost) a sense of the magic felt by Tete. But again, these few moments also really only are described to the reader, not felt by the reader. “Island Beneath the Sea” follows Allende’s career-long focus on woman and family stories, but its melodramatic elements simply do not add up to much. “Island Beneath the Sea” has some value in introducing a description of slave life in Haiti and New Orleans, but it falls far short of great fiction, or even of Allende’s best work.

Movie Review: "Big Eyes"

Big Eyes (2014)

PG-13

2.5 Stars out of 5

Director                               Tim Burton
Writer                                  Scott Alexander, Larry Kraraszewski

Amy Adams                        Margaret Keane
Christoph Waltz                 Walter Keane
Danny Houston                 Dick Nolan

 

The question of what is art is a question that lingers in the minds of many, and it seems there are as many answers to the question. Tim Burton offers one opinion on the topic with his late 2014 movie, “Big Eyes”. “Big Eyes” tells the story of Margaret Keane in 1950’s/1960’s San Francisco. Margaret is devoted to her art of young children that have stylized “big eyes” in her paintings. That no one in the art world thought of her art as “art”, or that almost no one in 1950’s America could think of a woman (with few notable exceptions) as an artist provides the framework upon which Burton erects his own attempt of cinematic art. Like Margaret though, Burton comes up sadly short.

The movie begins with Margaret (Amy Adams) fleeing her suburban home with her daughter for a new life in North Beach, San Francisco. She hopes to launch her career as a painter in this famous art colony by trying to sell her various paintings of waifs with their puppies, their kittens, their large emotive eyes. She meets with universal failure until she meets Walter Keane (Christoph Waltz) as he too attempts to sell his cityscape paintings depicting Paris’ West Bank. That Walter’s work is hardly less successful artistically is made clear later in the film as he tries to sell his work to local art galleries. That Walter’s nature is far different from Margaret’s is made equally clear as he prances and weaves tales to his potential customers in the park. Margaret silently witnesses Walter’s antics until the day when Walter turns his “charm” on Margaret. They meet, they date, they kiss, they get married.

As the new couple begins their life together, Walter comes up with a scheme to display their respective art on the walls of a nearby nightclub. Taking advantage of one woman’s interest in Margaret’s paintings, Walter’s claims the art as his own in order (he claims later to Margaret) to close the sale – “obviously” no one would believe any serious art could be done by a woman? Walter’s “big eye art” starts to gain traction with the local non-art critic influenced art buying public. In time through Walter’s scheming, Margaret’s paintings sold as Walter’s work become immensely popular. The attention her paintings are getting, the money they bring in and the lack of credit she receives begin a metamorphic effect on Margaret. After years of living in the shadows, she eventually comes forward to claim credit and to stand on her own.

Throughout the movie, both before her commercial success and afterwards, the Art world rejects Margaret’s paintings as art. One critic commenting that Margaret’s work reminded her of a submission to an advertisement at the back of a magazine exhorting readers to sign up for an art class by sending an example of their work. As untutored as I am in the nature of paintings with or without artistic merit, I could not but agree. Margaret’s work displays some understanding of the mechanics of working in oils or acrylics, but her composition is so simplistic and lacking in feeling except for what she hopes to display through her “children” mournful gazes, that I cannot think that she would be considered anything more than a skilled high school art student; but surely nothing more. However, as Andy Warhol (himself in the category of questionable artist in my opinion) comments at the beginning of the movie that “I think what Keane has done is terrific! If it were bad, so many people wouldn’t like it.” I cannot really argue this point, but it is an idea worth considering: is art best defined by a select group of people educated on the topic, or by the masses; is art elitist or egalitarian? I don’t have the answer, but I do love the question.

However, in the case of the artistic merits of Burton’s movie “Big Eyes”, there is I believe a much more clear answer. The movie is elevated by Adams’ careful and studied portrayal of woman taught by the events of her life to submit, to stay out of the way of the men around. And yet, as with any person, Margaret has her limits: she met them with her first husband and then again with Walter. Adams does an excellent job of acting with her face and body language to show both sides of these competing drives within her. Waltz on the other hand plays Walter as a one note scheming con man. He starts out at a medium level of falseness when he first meets Margaret and steadily ramps up his performance to near camp by the movie’s climax. This lack of tone control in the movie is added to a bizarre sequence in a check-out line at the supermarket where Margaret hallucinates that all about her have her paintings’ signature “big eyes”. Why is this scene even in the movie? Are we to believe that Margaret is suffering a nervous breakdown; it is far from clear. One further disruption to the flow of the movie comes in the form of a voice over provided by a local “newspaperman” Dick Nolan (Danny Houston). Nolan is in the movie as a character but also as a narrator. His performance as a co-conspirator with Walter is intelligent and useful to propel the story, but his disruptive comments as narrator add little and conflict with the emotions displayed in the movie.

“Big Eyes” raises an interesting topic in the form of the nature of art and of the role of woman in the late fifties America. It has excellent acting by Adams, a lovely song at the end by Lana Del Rey, and a very odd role played by the previously excellent Waltz (see “Inglourious Basterds” for a much better role and acting example by Waltz). But the lack of tone control, the lack of a story arc that delves more than superficially into the two themes under discussion force me to admit my disappointment in a director who has over the years has made me one of his biggest fans.

For Burton fans that haven’t yet seen them (I doubt there are many who haven’t), check out “Beetlejuice”, “Nightmare Before Christmas”, or “Edward Scissorhands”, these movies are amongst the iconic examples that give a great view into the mind of Tim Burton.

Book Review: "Atonement" by Ian McEwan

Atonement (2001)

4.5 Stars out of 5

Ian McEwan

340 pages

Ian McEwan has written a near master piece of fiction with his 2001 novel “Atonement”. The story is told in three parts with a coda that is exculpatory as well as explanatory. The story’s three parts occur in the 1935 English countryside, the 1940 French countryside on the road to Dunkirk, and 1940 London. The coda is told in contemporary (1999) London. McEwan spends a good deal of time blending into his overall story the nuances of good writing, the all too common English fascination with class distinction and privilege, but mostly he spins a tale of unintended consequences; one that is intricately designed to show the effects of a youthful imagination on the lives of others. These effects are far-reaching and ultimately come to tragically shape the life of the young protagonist/fantasist as well as that of her chain-smoking sister and her working class lover.

Part one begins with thirteen year old Briony Tallis preparing a play to welcome her cousins to the Tallis estate. The cousins consist of two six year old male twins and their fifteen year old sister, Lola. Briony is as intellectually precocious as Lola is eager to prove that she is no longer a child but a woman grown. Also arriving at the estate is Briony’s older sister Cecilia and older brother, Leon. Once he has arrived, Leon is shown to have brought his wealthy friend, Paul Marshall. As the day wears on, Briony observes from afar an odd interaction between Cecilia and the neighbor boy, Robbie. Unlike the Tallis family, Robbie is poor and in fact is the son of a Tallis family servant. The patriarch of the Tallis family, Jack has taken an active interest in the welfare of Robbie and has in fact put him through college. Robbie has excelled in college and seems likely to be on his way to medical school. Behind these scenes though brews a growing love between Cecilia and Robbie. Thus, their interaction when seen out of any context that the intelligent but still immature Briony can understand causes her to drastically misinterpret Robbie’s actions. Late in the same day when Briony happens upon someone departing in the dark from a visibly distressed Lola, Briony puts her imagination to work and concludes that Robbie has assaulted Lola. She reports this act to the police as Lola sits in silence during the ensuing interrogation. Robbie is sent to prison.

Part two concerns Robbie as he trudges towards Dunkirk with his fellow English soldiers. The English have suffered a catastrophic defeat at the hands of the Germans in 1940’s France, and they have been ordered to retreat to Dunkirk to await shipment back to England. Robbie is injured both physically from German shrapnel and from five years in an English prison for a crime he has protested his innocence. Despite his rank of private, he is regarded by the two rough corporals that he has fallen in with as a member of the upper classes: Robbie speaks fluent French and he clearly is far more intelligent than the average enlisted man – how could he be other than a member of the upper classes? Robbie reaches Dunkirk. He is riven by pain, and screams out as he tries to sleep. When warned to stay silent, he comments, “you won’t hear another sound from me”.

Part three jumps from France to London and follows the now remorseful Briony as she works as a student nurse. The irony of upper class Briony forsaking her class to work as a nurse stands in contrast to Robbie’s appearance as a member of the upper class. Briony has come to realize that perhaps her testimony against Robbie may have been faulty; before part three is over there is little doubt in her mind. She learns of an impending marriage between her cousin Lola and the wealthy Paul Marshall, and determines to attend the ceremony despite not being invited. As these events unfold, she slowly starts to put together other pieces of information available to her at the time of the assault in 1935, and she comes to a completely new explanation for what Robbie was imprisoned. That she comes to the full realization of her crime too late to do Robbie much good is not made clear until the book’s conclusion.

Briony has grown to become an elderly but highly successful writer in the coda. She has become somewhat wiser over the years, of course but still seems to me to be excusing her behavior somewhat. Indeed McEwan has done some excusing as well – Briony is successful, well regarded, as are the true miscreants in the 1935 event, but the truly innocent have gone to their graves, their reputations still tarnished. Is it McEwan’s intent to excuse Briony as evidenced by her adult successes or is he intending irony? It could easily be the latter. McEwan is a remarkably skilled writer. The main point of this novel is to create a scenario in which a character, Briony draws wrong conclusions about her observations, someone else, Robbie pays the price for that initial error and the ensuing avalanche of events that all work to condemn an innocent man, and then further events conspire to prevent Briony from ever confessing her guilt to the accused, let alone from receiving any kind of forgiveness for her actions. Briony seeks her atonement in part three of the book, but the manner in which she does so is not clear until the very end of the coda.

McEwan has adopted in part one much of the style and some of the themes of a Jane Austin novel. The language is artful and stylized; McEwan even begins the book with a quote from Austin’s Northhanger Abbey to warm up the reader. Like all Austin books there is a preponderance of class distinctions that help shape the characters and most definitely drive the plot. Consider the near non-existent evidence that sends Robbie to prison: it was solely the testimony of a young adolescent and a dubious out of context “love letter”. No other suspects were sought but one other lower class possibility; no physical evidence, no alibi accepted. Robbie was the right class to be the “maniac” as described by Briony. Just like modern America, if someone, some ethnic class member seems to fit the role of criminal, he is far along the path to being found guilty before he has even opened his mouth in defense. It is no less true in this country in the early twenty-first century than England in the early twentieth century.

Like many other books and movies in recent years, “Atonement” makes use of the unreliable narrator trope. One of my favorite lines in the book has Briony the writer confessing that she never felt any undue obligation to the truth – again a great use of irony when one considers the overall arc of the book. But it comes a little too close to one of my complaints about the book: McEwan writes on multiple occasion scenes that describe some subtle action or implication that helps explicate one of the characters, and then in the next sentence or two he spells it out for the reader. This is not really necessary for a book at this level of sophistication. Additionally, there are a plot holes that bother me as I read the book (chief among them being, would a thirteen year-old’s testimony really be sufficient to send someone to prison; and what was really going on in Lola’s mind – could a fifteen year old really see so clearly to the implications and possibilities of her own assault?). However, the complexity of the book’s structure, the lovely language in part one, and the delicious irony of Briony finally figuring out the true events of that night in 1935 but having no way to confess or atone but for the manner shown in part three make this book truly worth reading.

 

Movie Review: Mad Max: Fury Road

Mad Max: Fury Road (2014)

R

4.5 Stars out of 5

Director                                            George Miller
Writer                                               George Miller, Brendan McCarthy, Nick Lathouris
Cinematography                             John Seale
Music                                                Junkie XL

Max Rockatansky                            Tom Hardy
Imperator Furiosa                           Charlize Theron
Nux                                                    Nicholas Hoult
Immortan Joe                                  Hugh Keays-Byrne          

The Wives:
Toast the Knowning                       Zoe Kravitz
The Splendid Angharad                 Rosie Huntington-Whiteley
The Dag                                            Abbey Lee
Cheedo the Fragile                         Courtney Eaton
Capable                                            Riley Keough

Mad Max: Fury Road is the fourth installment in the Mad Max series. However, on many levels it stands by itself, improved in almost every aspect from the first three: stunts, cinematography, art design, acting (by Charlize Theron, anyway). But how does one review a movie like any of the Mad Max films? Is there anything beyond technique; is there some value to this movie, or any from the genre of action films (Chris Nolan’s “Dark Knight” trilogy comes immediately to mind) where the highest praise that one could award a movie such as “Mad Max: Fury Road” is that the stunt scenes (which comprise virtually the entire movie) were artfully and skillfully directed. I could find no value beneath the skin, so to speak, but be that as it may, it is a superbly well-made action movie.

“Mad Max: Fury Road” begins with a beautifully shot opening scene of Max (Tom Hardy) standing by his “upgraded” car. This scene is so iconic of the movie and the series; it is no surprise that this scene is often shown as the poster for the new movie. We see a lone man standing by his car/steed staring into the desolate distance. It is beautifully emblematic of the series (of Westerns) and of the man, Mad Max. But it is also curiously misleading as it begins a film wherein Max is almost immediately captured and will quite frankly spend almost the entire movie playing a role secondary to the events that surround him, and even more so to the superbly acted role of Furiosa (Charlene Theron). Theron will show via slight and subtle facial expressions the deep despair and loss her character has endured. There is very little need to explore her back story; it is written on her face. Tom Hardy on the other hand continues his version of acting via grunts and other mono-syllabic comments that he began in the aforementioned Dark Knight trilogy (“The Dark Knight Rises”). There must be something to his acting that appeals to Christopher Nolan and George Miller, but it is invisible to me. I hear only the grunts and see only the stone face.

Max is captured very early in the film and is taken to the mesa-like fortress of Immortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne). Joe has captured a water monopoly in this post-apocalypse waste land. His subjects are destitute and live in awe of his god-like power over them. Joe also has at his command a small army of young soldiers that live to die for him. Joe rules in league with two other nearby centers of power: one for fuel, the other for ammunition. Joe sends out his top lieutenant Imperator Furiosa with her war rig (a hugely modified semi-tractor trailer) for fuel. Little does Joe know that Furiosa has a plan to smuggle out Joe’s harem of super model breeding wives in order to take them to safety at the “Green Place” and out of Joe’s reach forever. Thus begins the movie: a prolonged journey into the wasteland by Furiosa and her charges, chased by Joe and his allies. It goes without question that many bullets are fired, many cars are crashed, and much gasoline-fueled explosions take place.

The viewer knows that Max will join the chase and ally himself in time with Furiosa. How can he not? Despite her outward appearance, it is clear she is pure of thought, or at least of intent. Max does join up with her and his path in doing so is very amusingly told with him chained to Nux (Nicholas Hoult). Nux is a warboy, one of Joe’s aforementioned minions serving only to die in Joe’s defense. Nux needs a supply of blood for reasons not in the least clear to me, but he gets it from Max, and thus Max is chained to him. I found the early scenes from the chase where Nux and Max are chained to one another but somehow must ultimately survive and to ally themselves to Furiosa to be the best part of the chase. It is clever in the sense that the viewer knows this is going to happen, but how director/writer George Miller will bring it about is the fun part. Unlike many parts of the movie (which has plot holes big enough to drive a war rig or two through), Max’s alliance with Furiosa is fairly believable; Nux’ addition to the team is less so, but I can accept it.

The illogic of so much of the movie lies in the subordinate characters. First up are the five wives that Furiosa is trying to save: Toast the Knowning (Zoe Kravitz), The Splendid Angharad (Rosie Huntington-Whiteley), The Dag (Abbey Lee), Cheedo the Fragile (Courtney Eaton), and Capable (Riley Keough). It is perhaps a staple of such films that the meek and mild will ultimately rise up to challenge the well-armed bully, but it stretches my imagination too much to watch an third-term pregnant woman wildly swinging from the war rig’s doorway shooting at bad guys. But what really blows me away is the idea of the aged remnants of Furiosa’s original clan (the Vuvalini) living in a wasteland so barren that not a speck of green, let alone of any water can be seen. Or add to that, their elaborate ruse of placing a naked woman atop a three story structure screaming for help. Really, how often does a potential enemy come along this particular waste land that such a ruse could prove of any value? This example of “bait” is my primary problem with the movie. It is a movie admittedly set in the future, but not theoretically in fantasy land. People still need realistic means of surviving and simply having wildly designed vehicles with machine guns strapped on to them is not a viable means of survival. The story line has elements of value (primarily the wives’ desire to raise their children out of harm’s way), but it seems to exist to solely provide opportunities for the amazing car and motor cycle stunts.

I do love the art work (see for a great view of the various cars) set design, and cinematography. I even am fairly fond of the non-stop kinetics of breathtaking stunts and action sequences; and hats off to George Miller for re-booting the Mad Max series with an overt nod to women and their very non-Mad Max way of looking at the world. But ultimately, if this movie is viewed in any manner other than as an action flick, is there anything unique (the woman’s POV notwithstanding) about the writing, about the ludicrous plot holes and non-existent science; no, in my opinion. So, let’s drop any of the pretensions one can find in the reviews about this movie being a woman’s movie, and consider this movie solely as an action flick. There are admirable elements that offer acknowledgment to women’s physical prowess and their desire for a safe place to raise their children, but this movie cannot be seriously be considered as anything but an action flick.