Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (2024)
Director: George Miller
Screenwriters: George Miller, Nico Lathouris
Starring: Anya Taylor-Joy, Alyla Browne, Chris Hemsworth, Tom Burke
When the director George Miller returns to the wasteland, expectations are inevitably high. Hideo Kojima’s remark—calling Miller a god and his saga a kind of scripture—illustrates the reverence many feel toward the Mad Max universe. Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga attempts to honor that legacy while expanding the backstory of one of the franchise’s most compelling characters. The result is a film that alternates between striking strengths and clear shortcomings, leaving viewers to decide whether it enriches the mythology or dilutes it.
Faith, myth and control have always been central themes in the Mad Max world. Leaders in the wasteland manipulate belief to maintain power; faith becomes currency and a tool for domination. The War Boys’ devotion to a glorious death, the rituals and promises of a better afterlife—all of this informs the behavior and motivations of characters across the series. Furiosa’s own arc is driven by belief as well: a fierce longing to return to the Green Place, the sanctuary where she was raised by the Many Mothers.
Furiosa begins with that pivotal moment recounted in Mad Max: Fury Road—the kidnapping of a child from a supposedly safe community. The film opens with the abduction of the young Furiosa from the Green Place by a violent biker horde led by Dementus, played by Chris Hemsworth. Hemsworth brings a charismatic menace to the role: charming on the surface but brutal and unstable beneath. This sequence establishes the film’s strengths—strong character work, committed performances, and well-staged action—while also hinting at a recurring problem: heavy reliance on visual effects that sometimes undercut the tactile grit fans associate with Miller’s best work.
Part of what made Mad Max: Fury Road so electrifying was its commitment to practical filmmaking. Stunts, vehicles and explosions felt tangible: you could hear engines roar, feel the impact of collisions, and sense the danger. In contrast, Furiosa uses considerably more digital effects. While VFX can be safer and enable ambitious sequences, here they sometimes create a layer of artificiality that distances the viewer. When juxtaposed against clips of the earlier film—reminded during the end credits—the differences become especially apparent.
That said, the film benefits from a talented crew. George Miller’s direction remains purposeful, and the contributions of stunt designers, fight choreographers, cinematographers and editors are evident throughout. Simon Duggan’s cinematography and the editing team’s rhythm shape many of the film’s best moments, and the stunt coordination delivers memorable visuals despite the heavier VFX presence.
Casting choices produce mixed results. Alyla Browne, as the young Furiosa, is a revelation: she anchors the film’s first act with vulnerability and hardened determination, establishing an emotional core that gives weight to the character’s later choices. Anya Taylor-Joy takes over the role in the second half and captures Furiosa’s speech patterns and intensity, but she struggles at times with the emotional spectrum required for the older incarnation. The film’s structure, which divides Furiosa’s journey into two distinct halves, amplifies that shift: the younger Furiosa’s storyline is deliberate and immersive, while the later sections accelerate, compressing years of development into brisk set pieces that often feel rushed.
Tom Burke’s Praetorian Jack reads like an echo of previous franchise archetypes—an attempt to channel familiar loner-fighter tropes—yet Burke does what he can with the material. The film’s villainy finds its strongest expression in Hemsworth’s Dementus, whose magnetic volatility keeps many scenes taut and alarming.
One of the film’s recurring problems is ambition without necessary focus. Miller layers in a vast amount of backstory and world-building, and while context can enrich a universe, over-explanation diminishes mystery. The original films often benefited from restraint: epic visuals paired with pared-down narratives that allowed audiences to project onto the wasteland. Here, the screenplay often opts for exposition over implication, and the two-and-a-half-hour runtime still feels crowded. Important developments receive insufficient breathing room, and several emotional beats are abbreviated just as they begin to matter.
Technically, the film is polished. Production design, costume work and the overall visual identity remain compelling, and moments of practical stunt work still deliver the visceral thrills the franchise is known for. But the tonal inconsistency—oscillating between intimate character study and sprawling blockbuster set pieces—means the film rarely achieves the singular intensity of Fury Road. For longtime fans, the comparison will be unavoidable and not always flattering.
In the end, Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga is a film of contrasts. It offers standout performances, notable production values and new additions to the franchise’s cast of characters, yet it struggles with pacing, overreliance on visual effects, and an inclination to overshare the character’s history. There is much to admire: compelling turns from Alyla Browne and Chris Hemsworth, committed directing, and moments that recall the franchise’s kinetic power. Still, the movie lacks a certain charm and immediacy that made earlier installments feel like vivid, lived-in experiences.
If George Miller’s earlier films felt like cinema miracles to many viewers, Furiosa will likely feel more like a complex addition to a beloved myth—one that delivers both rewards and disappointments. Fans will find enough to appreciate, but others may feel the film doesn’t fully recapture the raw, practical energy that defined the franchise’s peak.
Score: 13/24