tevintersoldier reblogged
tevintersoldier reblogged
What a good fight scene. This encounter could have been played a lot of ways, some of them unsavory given we start with one armed man and six unarmed women,.but the most terrified character here is easily Max. The Five Wives are frightened, but more angry and fed up, and Furiosa is just, well, furious. Meanwhile, Max spends the first half of the film acting like a nervous stray on the verge of fear-biting.
This is it exactly. Max keeps flicking the guns around and snatching things because he’s honestly on the very edge of panic. He’s just been chased down, tattooed, used as an unwilling blood donor, made a hood ornament, nearly died in a car chase and dust storm like 5 million times, and is plagued by hallucinations on a GOOD day. Everything he does up until he starts realizing Furiosa needs his help and she TRUSTS him is someone fueled completely by terror. It says something about Furiosa that she figures out very quickly that Max isn’t so much a threat as he’s also a victim, useful, and SCARED.
Something my boyfriend pointed out is that Max is remembering how to talk through the first chunk of the movie.
I thought he was just grunting and stuff because “rawr I am a badass male action hero man” and didn’t wanna use words. But no, no he’s remembering how to talk. He’s been wandering the desert for who knows how long, not speaking to another soul, hallucinating, and when he’s confronted by the Wives and Furiosa he can barely communicate beyond the violence he’s been subjected to at the hands of the War Boys and in his interactions previous to that. He remembers how to speak as the movie progresses.
Yesss and I love how for once we get to see the male lead be the one that is captured and put through horrible shit! Throughout the first half of the movie he is vulnerable and terrified and dragged through all these dangerous situations! Characters can be put in those positions and still be badass!
tevintersoldier reblogged
#drift compatible
tevintersoldier reblogged
I know you aren’t supposed to read the comments but if I hadn’t I would have never seen this.
tevintersoldier reblogged
That’s my property!
We are not things. We are not things!
tevintersoldier reblogged
stele3:
brofisting:
fun fact: when max is tired and cant run anymore he goes back to the citadel where furiosa rules and she tells him he can rest now, and he spends his time sitting at her feet while she conducts meetings with advisers and diplomats and runs her fingers thru his hair
See, but I don’t think there’s any way that Furiosa would rule the Citadel. Toast, maybe. Toast and Capable.
Furiosa, she’s a road warrior. She spent twenty years trying to find her way back to heaven but to do it she had to become a demon in hell. That isn’t something you just walk away from. Her first instinct will be to go for a knife and cut the throat of whoever is trying to hurt her, not to be compassionate and understanding and try to fix things.
So no, Furiosa doesn’t rule the Citadel. She’s its General. Max doesn’t meet her there. He meets her on the road, patrolling. He’s gotten caught up in someone else’s fight, again–that’s what Max does. On purely desperate instinct he leads them east…and then bullets cut down their pursuit.
They meet again on the road. She’s got a new arm. She still has the same gun.
“Water,” Max croaks, and she smiles.
No but this is PERFECT for Furiosa and Max both, because the LEGENDS they would create:
Furiosa returns to the Citadel with the body of Immortan Joe, knowing only that things cannot continue the way they have been. The milking mothers open up the water supply, she hoists as many of the Wretched onto the platform as possible, and the War Boys cluster around her, eager for a new god to worship.
And it’s that which does her in, in the end. She walks about the Citadel that they tell her she freed (she freed herself, and the wives, and the death of the world still binds them all to the dust), and War Boys and Wretched alike bow to her, making the old gesture of worship and whispering Immortan Furiosa. She hates the name with all of the fury she is capable of, and as soon as she feels that the city is secure she leaps at the chance to drive the Fury Road again.
The wives, to the surprise of everyone but Furiosa, assert themselves as the true functional power of the city. Capable reaches out to the War Boys,trying to touch the humanity they never thought to acknowledge in their scramble for Valhalla. The Dag plants her precious seeds, gathering a group of women around her to help bring more green life into the Citadel. Cheedo reaches out to the Wretched, helping person after person up onto the platform as she once reached out a hand for Furiosa. And Toast the Knowing sets herself to learning the machines that Immortan Joe left behind, divining the secrets of his hydroponics and welding shops and Aqua Cola pumps so that they would never again be left thirsty and hungry. The Council of the Wives thus slowly brings the different elements of the Citadel together, and change happens slowly - but surely. Furiosa? Godhood doesn’t die easily, even in the willing absence of its avatar. The half-lives of the people are dry and brief, and the glow of a hero is something bright to look at while you wait for the tumors to eat away at your vital organs. As she takes longer and longer patrols, the whispers grow. Every raiding party she defeats, every shipment of goods she brings back, every time she returns with a mad and dusty Max in the passenger’s seat, the tales of Immortan Furiosa and her quest on the Fury Road have doubled. And tripled. The day she doesn’t come back (the day she chooses not to?), the final seal is set.
The Great Immortan Furiosa, Savior of the Citadel and Warrior of the Fury Road, becomes a legend that carries on long after the truth is dust. The Citadel is green, then red, then green again in an endless cycle, and she is Jason and his Argonauts, Earendil and his star, Gilgamesh and Kerouac and Liongo rendered immortal in the tongues of a thousand tellers. They speak of her name in the same breath as they speak of Valhalla, the rogue Imperator who brought them green and freedom and a better way from far out in the dust.
“Mad” Max Rockatansky? A shadow on the dunes, the cough of an engine in the distance, a man who lives, and dies, and lives again. There is a desert spirit interwoven through the legends of Furiosa; a dusty figure who appears out of nowhere, and disappears again when his task is done. It was rumored that he was seen, once, during the Age of the Wives, but no one alive now could say. Sometimes she is lost, and he brings her guidance. Sometimes he is lost, and she gives him his mind again. Always, always, always he is mad, for what man would willingly return to the wasteland? Young men and women, at the end of their half-lives, paint their faces half dark with engine grease and take rigs out into the desert, seeking the far horizon. The furious ones, they say, with a shake of their heads. Chasing Mad Max into the wilderness. Of course he isn’t real, how could he be, but still…still…