Yesterday, to take a break from worrying about my mother, I went to see “Mad Max: Fury Road”. Add my voice to the chorus saying that it is an amazing film.
I’ve been thinking about its title. The obvious meaning is just HEY A LOT OF ANGRY EXPLOSIONS. But I think it’s got another layer. An old, old layer, as old as civilization.
In Greek mythology, there were three goddesses. Alecto, Megaera, and Tisiphone. Variously, they were known as the Erinyes, the Kindly Ones (a euphemism akin to calling elves the Fair Folk), and… the Furies. They were ancient deities, older than the majority of the pantheon; born either from the primeval god of the sky, or of night. They manifested as monstrous crones, with bat wings, serpents in their hair, and scourged the wicked with whips made of scorpion’s tails. Their purpose? Vengeance.
The two things that people tend to mention as their drives in this film? Redemption. Vengeance. If I recall correctly, the main character Imperiator Furioso is seeking redemption. But vengeance is there in spades.
(Yes, I know it’s Max’s name on the title, and his story that we open with. But it’s Furioso who really gets everything moving; she’s the one who makes plot-driving choices, and Max is as much her sidekick as the hero.)
And, of course, the final act introduces the utterly bad-ass Vuvalnians, a gang of kindly old ladies from before the Nameless Apocalypse who shepherd the caravan of main characters through the last trials, leaving a trail of death behind them and laughing as they do it. (I would totally watch the hell out of a movie starring them, too.)
So yeah. That’s the Furies. And that’s Fury Road.