Hey guys! This week, I decided to post a shortened version of an essay on Mad Max: Fury Road (2015) I wrote for a film class. The course was focused on action films, and I chose to write about the surprisingly feminist tones that Mad Max: Fury Road employed, particularly embodied in the character Imperator Furiosa. These are some of the factors that made it such an incredible film in my opinion! Give it a read and let me know what you think! Spoiler warning: there are some spoilers for the movie so if you haven’t seen it, read at your discretion!
The film Mad Max: Fury Road (directed by George Miller) is a dystopian action movie, the fourth installment in the Mad Max series that Miller created. Despite the title indicating a focus on the main character, Max (played by Tom Hardy), the narrative reveals itself to revolve around the plotline of multiple female characters, the most prominent being Charlize Theron’s character Imperator Furiosa. Undeniably feminist in tone, Mad Max challenges power structures between males and females, often subverting the stereotypical role of the objectified “weaker sex” female. Jill Dolan of The Feminist Spectator in Action states, “how nice to see the girl save the boy. . . masterminding the actions that in the end will save them both”[i], when referencing Katniss Everdeen’s relationship with Peeta Mellark in The Hunger Games (2011). Why exactly is this “nice”? Likely because it is not often that viewers see this type of dynamic in action films, in which the female consistently possesses the physical and mental ability to save her male counterpart, rather than relying on him.
This isn’t to say that characters like Katniss or Furiosa aren’t aided by their male counterparts; rather, that they are just as capable of saving themselves and others as a male hero can be. University of Mississippi professor Jeffrey A. Brown poses the problem that “[action heroines] still have to grapple with being turned into sex objects, with being compared to male heroes, [and] with being described as gender transgressive”[ii]. Additionally, researcher Hillary Pennell found in her studies that “women. . . are stereotypically judged to be less intellectual, more emotional, and less aggressive than men”[iii] while also given the unrealistic body goals to be thin and desirable, and additionally having to be made believable as a strong action figure. These statements outlines a mere few of the many challenges that female actors face. Mad Max: Fury Road ultimately serves to push back against some of these stereotypes, not only by showcasing a narrative fuelled by and focused on women, but by rejecting common storylines such as the romantic subplot. As well, it problematizes the sexualization and objectification of the female body.
With a few exceptions, the default role of the female in action films is generally one that is victimized or saved. In some cases, the female is a person who achieves some form of agency but remains outshone or dominated by the male hero. Mad Max works to subvert this stereotype as Max, the alleged main protagonist, essentially shares this role with the female Furiosa. In fact, Max has only fifty-two lines in the entire two-hour movie. More than a few times, he is saved by female characters, and more prominently, there is no clear indication in the narrative that the titular Max is setting out to fulfill his own endgame. Instead, he aligns himself to help achieve Furiosa’s endgame, which is to save her own self and Immortan Joe’s imprisoned wives, and eventually to dismantle Joe’s tyrannical reign. As well, Max remains an ambiguous character to his allies and movie viewers, whereas Furiosa and her prestigious title (“Imperator” is the Roman word for “commander”) are acknowledged throughout the film. The viewer learns certain details of her origins, sympathize with her when obstacles arise, and cheer for her when she succeeds.
Furiosa is also given the role of defeating the main antagonist, becoming the harbinger of redemption and hope to the mistreated citizens of the Citadel. In any other film with a leading female action figure, such as The Hunger Games, Lara Croft or Kill Bill, these are normal roles of the heroine. However, Mad Max makes Furiosa’s role even more significant by constantly posing her heroism next to the purported main hero, Max – whereas Max is sidelined in comparison. Perhaps the best example of the subversion of the male/female power dynamic is when Max is given the task to use a gun to hit the target chasing them. One of the wives warns him that there are only three shots left in the gun. Max fails after two shots, leaving a detrimental one left, and Furiosa takes over. She uses Max’s shoulder as a support for the gun. She tells him, “Don’t breathe,” and shoots the target perfectly. Furiosa isn’t patronizing him; rather, this moment demonstrates that she thought of something that Max did not, which was to stabilize the gun for a better shot. Furthermore, she remains calm in a highly tense situation, and during combat no less. While some may argue that the film’s title is misleading or sexist (as it’s called Mad Max, not Imperator Furiosa), I believe that Furiosa’s importance and empowerment is partially strengthened upon the viewer’s realization that she, not he, is the more prominent hero of the film.
Another major aspect in Mad Max’s break from typical Hollywood action films is that there is no use of the romantic subplot. The relationship between Max and Furiosa is that of expediency, fueled by survivalist instincts. Unfortunately, female heroines that lead opposite male heroes sometimes become diminished into formulaic love interests, or objects of sexual desire. Furiosa’s lack of romance with Max, therefore, is empowering in its clear break from the Hollywood pigeonhole of automatically pairing the male and female lead together. That’s not to say that I’m condemning heterosexual relationships in action films. Rather, in the scheme of the Mad Max narrative, a romantic subplot would have felt forced, awkward, and unnecessary. It’s also important to note that the world that Furiosa lives in is not one devoid of the objectification of women. In Joe’s totalitarian society, women are used to produce milk, or as “prized breeders”.
What’s refreshing about Furiosa is that she does not have to equate her lack of femininity to a likening of masculinity; it is no surprise that the feminine beauty of Charlize Theron is not diminished even with her shaved head, face smudged with black, and non-revealing attire. Her look is not of maleness, but one of practicality as a soldier in the desert. Her body is presented as strong, but is not accentuated to the point of scrutiny. Furiosa is unapologetically a woman, revealing to the viewers that she was born into a clan of women called the Many Mothers, an exclusively all-female clan who are also resilient, independent, and have roots in nurturing the Earth (an incredibly important factor in a post apocalyptic world). Despite being a soldier, Furiosa is not inherently violent the way male characters like Rambo, Bond, or Bourne are. She only resorts to violence when needed, either in self-defense or to protect those she cares about, and through the majority of the movie she is mostly seen driving her War Rig. She is calm and calculating, but simultaneously does not restrain in expressing herself when she feels afflicted.
It can also be said, arguably, that this film does not make a fetishization of violence the way many previous action films largely adhered to. The lack of fetishization is best employed when Furiosa and Max meet for the first time. An untrusting Max holds her and the wives at gunpoint, and Furiosa finds a moment to charge at him. The two immediately engage in an intense fist fight. There is no sexualization in the aesthetic, sounds or body language of Furiosa, nor is there any trace of violent sexual tension between the two. The camera angles, furthermore, don’t exploit her or purposely show her in “compromising positions”[iv]. She throws punches and blows at Max and receives the same level of brutality from him. Furthermore, it is revealed that she is an amputee from the elbow down on her left arm, and yet is no way inhibited by this handicap, continuing to fight Max skillfully without her prosthetic forearm and hand. She is essentially a character that neither denunciates more typical female characteristics nor adheres to them, resulting in an incredibly dynamic, refreshing female action figure.
Furiosa kills Immortan Joe in the dramatic climax of the film, asking him with a bloodied face and hoarse, raspy voice, “Remember me?” An epic flash moment shows Furiosa ripping off Joe’s oxygen mask with her prosthetic hand, tearing off the flesh of his face – and this is all after she has been fatally stabbed in the stomach with a knife. While Max plays a crucial part in pulling a seriously weakened Furiosa back to safety immediately following, there is no doubt that she is the incredibly resilient hero of the narrative. The film ends with the hope of the future of the Citadel lying in the hands of the female characters. Max, having saved Furiosa from her wounds by giving her a blood transfusion, gracefully exits into the crowd, his future unclear, while alternatively it is clear that Furiosa, along with the remaining wives and Many Mothers, have the capability, resources, and support to change society for the better. The signifying factor is that they do not need Max to do so, and Max both acknowledges and accepts that his part in their narrative is over. Ultimately Furiosa is not passive, sexualized, masculinized, nor subjected to the male gaze. She does not abandon more typical features of femininity such as emotionality or a “nurturing” spirit, and yet takes her path into her own hands and masterfully owns her womanhood in a way that not only empowers herself, but the women around her.
~ Z ~
[i] Jill Dolan, The Feminist Spectator In Action: Feminist Criticism for the Stage and Screen, (New York: 2015) 89
[ii] Jeffrey A. Brown, Beyond Bombshells: The New Action Heroine in Popular Culture. (U of Mississippi: 2015) 7
[iii] Hillary Pennell and Elizabeth Behm- Morawitz “The Empowering (Super) Heroine? The Effects of Sexualized Female Characters in Superhero Films on Women.” (New York: 2015) 213
[iv] Dolan 195
