Fictional men are at their hottest when they’re at their dirtiest. That’s no secret. Take, for instance,Henry Cavill’s Geralt fromThe Witcher, or the perennial example,The Lord of the Rings' Aragorn. Still, their gruff, sweaty, and dust-splattered looks need extra specificity to elevate them above simple “eye candy.” After all, what is Geralt without his reluctant fondness for his daughter figure, or Aragorn without that monarchy-avoiding nobility? It’s this space into which directorGeorge Miller’s visionaryMad Max: Fury Roaddrags its titular protagonist, Max Rockatansky (Tom Hardy), kicking and grumbling. He might not register as a legendarily sexy figure at first glance, butfew things are more appealing than wary affection that culminates in a selfless redemption arc.
Mad Max: Fury Road
Following on the heels of three previousMad Maxfilms,Fury Roadopens withits protagonist as a self-admittedly broken man. No one inthe Wasteland’s dystopiaescapes this fate. For Max specifically, he’s lost his humanity in the haze of trying to outrun enemies and the memories of innocent people he couldn’t save. Hardy strikes an impressively intimidating figure in his overrun beard and matted long hair, his chiseled jaw chowing down on a lizard. More animalistic than traditionally civilized, Max lives to survive rather than surviving to live. The stakes are set, and they’re as bleak as his opening narration.
Within this context, one can’t blame Max for meeting (Charlize Theron) and the five wives with hostility. He’s been captured, chained, muzzled, forcibly dehumanized into a blood donor, and strapped to the front of aNASCAR-speed battle car. And the War Boys have the gall to steal his jacket, too.All Max sees are threats. These women are a means to an end, a brief obstacle to swerve past. Even when he’s forced to allow Furiosa back on the War Rig, he tries to make her the exception; the wives will slow him down.
Whether we’re enteringFury Roadas newcomers or with series familiarity, this man is unpredictable and dangerous. Contrasting Max’s me-first behavior tothe enslaved women daring to escapemakes his desperate selfishness even clearer. No matter how beautifully grimy he looks as he erupts out of a sand pile in slow motion,he intends to abandon these women. (Sand-filled hair is a fetching look for him, though.)
Despite his need for control,Max has no choice except to be humbled. Even though he keeps his gun trained on Furiosa, he falls in line to regain the freedom he craves. These are two survivors who understand the need to shift from enemies to collaborators. Max listens to Furiosa, follows her instructions to the letter, and respects her judgment. But he keeps his barriers high; he refuses to surrender his name. “Does it matter?” our mumblecore desert king asks, crouched as warily tense as an animal in a cage.Furiosa offers him a temporary olive branch on a human level, and he rejects it.
Consequently,Tom Hardy barely speaks for long stretches. His silence, feral body language, and violent gestures never compromise or dilute Max’s intelligence. The police officer turned road warrior is cunning and insightful, assessing situations with quick glances and a studied stillness. Thanks to his insight and experience, he knows where to look for hidden weapons in the War Rig. He remembers the vehicle’s start sequence after one demonstration. It’s an impressive balancing act on Hardy’s part that tells us only what we need to know and no more while still establishing empathy whenMax’s flashbacks gain context. Plus, what’s sexier than competence? Very little.
Is the Black and White Version of ‘Mad Max: Fury Road’ Better Than the Original?
What does reaching Valhalla in the Wasteland look like in black and white?
Nothing’s sexier, that is,except a man lacking toxic masculinity. Max adopts a traditional male action star persona at the outset. Tough, gruff, and bulky (if not towering), he exhibits a decided need for control.Fury Road’s first hint of tonal subversion is George Miller immediately stripping Max of that agency. When he fails to hit his target with a sniper rifle and hands the gun to Furiosa, it’s ademonstration of trust. He’s annoyed at his failure, not her skill. He recognizes his ally’s superior strength and willingly relinquishes control. Then, his shoulder serves as Furiosa’s firing tripod. He never flinches. Turn on the Citadel water dispensers, because I need a cold drink after a man who drinks his respect women juice to that extent.
Once unearthed, Max’s humanity refuses to stay buried. He stays pragmatic through Angharad’s (Rosie Huntington-Whiteley) death, but the courageous woman who earned an awkward smile and thumbs up from our brooding hero reminds Max ofthe countless individuals he’s seen driven down, including his family. Hardy keeps the majority of Max’s trauma locked inside his eyes, but after Angharad’s loss, it seeps into his quieted, wearing body.
He and Furiosa make a remarkable team because of their growing mutual empathy. A pair of ruthless warriorshardened by their cruel world, they don’t need language to communicate. During their first chase, weapons and ammunition pass between them instead of words. They reload bullets and time their gunfire, acting in perfect simpatico.Fury Road’s action sequences drive the characterization and hint at the bond emerging because of forced proximity. Game recognizes game on the combat front, butMax and Furiosa are matching spirits: desperate, raging, lost survivors. The more time passes, the more these adversaries realize they’re siblings-in-arms.
Ultimately,human connection restores Max. He knows his future isn’t at the Citadel, but a real man turns his bike around to help the woman he respects. His ghosts and his guilt remind him that living just for himself — on autopilot, if you will — is no life at all. He changes from telling Furiosa that “hope is a mistake” to “we might be able to, together, come across some kind of redemption.” He’s offering tohelp them secure the peacefor which he still searches; to “fix what’s broken.” As Furiosa and Max lock their gazes and clasp hands, Max completes his transformation from Big Loner Tough Guy to Big Teddy Bear Softie who risks his life for others.
Everything culminates in Max giving Furiosa his blood, which this writer deems the swooniest moment in modern action. The contrast between Max’s earlier violence and his tenderness towards Furiosa is almost shocking. He apologizes for causing her pain even though Furiosa is unconscious. He expertly completes a blood transfusion through his panicked rambling. Why all this effort? Max willingly shares the blood in his veins (a reversal from the opening) becausehe refuses to let one more person die— the same woman he once tried to leave to the Wasteland’s wrath.Fury Road’s emotional coreroars as deep as an engine.
Once Furiosa revives, Max reacts in a voice that’s clear, bright, and free of the pain harrowing his steps. And he finally admits his name, cradling her head as he does. This is Max the walking wound at his most vulnerable. Yet there’s a clarity in his declaration.He reaffirms his forgotten identity to himself as much as he conveys something essential he withheldand dismissed as pointless. By helping these women, Max regains his humanity, which he then bequeaths back to Furiosa by saving her life.
Overtaking the Citadel, meanwhile, restores Furiosa’s soul. Max departing without ceremony, but after sharing a long look with Furiosa, is better than words. Although their journeys echo, this was a fleeting moment wheretwo broken people encountered their equal and oppositeat the precise moment they most needed that connection. The Wasteland has ensured they can’t be truly whole again, buttrust, empathy, and a recognition of personhood can heal their sharp edges, both outward and self-directed. Like a true road warrior-slash-guardian angel, Max helps Furiosa without stealing her agency or spotlight. That’s true king behavior, and we need to recognize his irresistibility in all its grizzled, grimy, and heartfelt superiority.
