“While pasty, cult-ish people are being flipped through windshields and their midsections are stomped by monster trucks, Charlize Theron’s Imperator Furiosa cuts a wide patch of feminism through the brutish heart of this traditional guy flick made of oil, smoke, engines, and heavy metal. This is an unorthodox blockbuster, a generation’s Aliens or Terminator flexing all-female muscles, as good, nay great, as those too. Mad Max (gruff spoken Tom Hardy) – quite literally – hangs on as the ride begins and continues to do so throughout.
Importantly, this is not a “female Mad Max.” Separation is necessary to distinguish Fury Road from tiresome, pandering Barbie doll cinema. A female Hangover, a female Ghostbusters; movies are being made like toy aisles. It’s insulting. Hollywood clothes women in pink. They must wear dresses and kiss in the rain. Furiosa soaks in Castrol and drives a big rig named War Machine. She can play with any toy from any aisle, so where is her action figure?”
Matt Paprocki 
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