Fast & Furiosa

That’s it. I’m shaving my head and painting the top third of my face black. Damn, “Mad Max: Fury Road,” dammmmmn. So that movie was crazy. Crazy, crazy, crazzzzzy. And in all the best ways.

Advance reviews of this film all hailed it as a feminist action film. So I was both excited and a little nervous. Like, could I hope against hope that this was actually a feminist film? Could the post-apocalyptic world of dust and destruction be more than just rampaging testosterone and shit going boom?

Yes. Yes it can.

But then, in a way, this also bummed me out. It’s not because of the film’s unabashed feminism. I love, love, love that. It bummed me out because it’s so unusual to find an action movie that has lot of women in it at all. It’s so shocking to find an action movie that treats women as people instead of things. It’s so weird to find an action movie that allows women to have agency, and own their anger about having that taken away.

And that’s the thing that dudebros who think feminism is anti-man just don’t get. It’s not about being anti-man. It’s about treating women equally. It’s about not making us just things to be objectified or rescued or destroyed. It’s about making our lives matter as much as the men’s. How terribly radical, right? Right.

It says something that this film so and so succinctly states, about its female characters, “We are not things.” We are not things. We are people who can kick ass and enjoy a kick-ass action movie with kick-ass characters – both male and female. And if you don’t agree with that, may I introduce you to my friend, Furiosa?



p.s. Also, this is practically perfect.