So shiny. So chrome.

I'm not a fan of the ballet.
I'd never want to step foot into the f--king desert under any circumstances.
And shocking no one, I've never been a willing participant in a brutal death orgy.

Well, until now.

I realize at this point in the summer, telling you to see Mad Max: Fury Road is essentially telling you not to be an asshole, but I'm going to do it anyway. Of course you will. But just in case there's a part of your brain that thinks eh, it can wait, let me be rather clear:

The f--k it can.

Even with weeks of unrelenting hype to potentially sully the experience, I left the theater last Thursday breathless and covered in my own sticky excitement. Fine, it was also two hours after the last day of school, but trust me: my overwhelming joy had less to do with an absence of eighth graders, and much more to do with the presence of all things Mad Max. My heart races just thinking about it.

If you haven't heard, here's what you need to know. Tom Hardy plays Max, a former cop tormented by violent visions of his long-dead family. In the dried out, post-apocalyptic version of wherever the f--k they are, Max gets caught up in some weird shit. After being branded, Max is then forced to be a constant blood-donor to some ailing soldier in what appears to be the last great army on Earth. This army, known as the War Boys, is run by this strange-looking f--ker, Immortan Joe. Max and Joe? Well, lets just say, they ain't exactly gonna see eye-to-eye. Why not you ask? Well, the reason all guys have problems with each other:

Women.

Ha. Don't think this film has even a second of typical damsel-in-distress action-movie bullshit. Oh, no. In fact, Max really only kicks a portion of the ass in this movie. No, the real damage is done by Charlize Theron's Furiosa and her crew of shit-kickers. In the wasteland that Fury Road takes place in, the women on the outside of Joe's compound are as tough as they come. And when the initial plan is to run the f--k away, it doesn't take too much convincing from Max to do the exact opposite. 

I'm not really doing the plot justice, surprise!, but it's safe to say that even though I enjoyed it, the story isn't the reason you have to see this movie. Not at all. You need to see this movie because visceral action has never been thought out and executed so well. It's the action movie equivalent of losing your virginity. Again. 

Speaking of unrealistic occurrences, here are the Yays and Boos for Fury Road. I think it's safe to say that there are going to be a few spoilers in this section, so feel free to get out now. But first, you should probably douse your mouth with chrome spray paint, you know, just in case you don't make it back.

This is probably the least exciting frame in the whole movie.
I mean, just one giant explosion? Bor-ring.

Yaaaaaaaaaaaa...

...aaaay!

• That whole steering wheel shrine thing was awesome.
• As cool as that truck full of drummers is, flaming guitar guy just might be my hero. No, seriously. It was like Voldo learned to shred.
• So, as a man, I've always thought there's been one certainty in my life: the best movie weapon is the gatling gun in Predator. Well, hold onto your butts, because giant flaming spear has entered the fray.
• Oh, but let us not sleep on motherf--king harpoons, either. Holy shit, right? Odd that without water anywhere within a hundred miles, that sea killing instruments would be so vital.
• You know as crazy as the War Boys are, they are some honorable lunatics, no? There were some pretty sweet examples of falling on one's sword, right?
• Joe's wives were so hot. Like, literally. 
• In a movie filled with epic conflicts one after another, the Furiosa v. Max battle was a decided favorite. Damn, Theron was a f--king force in this movie. She actually has fire in her eyes.
• Grunt, snort, (chisel away at head) repeat. Dude, in this wasteland, words are at a premium. I didn't mind though, 'cause all I could manage were giggles and gasps.
• When I tell you this movie is golden, I'm not being clever like Johnny and Ponyboy. No, I mean this movie is literally gold. It's like watching the most beautiful thing in the world...explode into bloody sparkles.
• But if daytime is beautiful, nighttime is somehow infinitely better. Ridiculous claim? Yes. But I stand by it.
• So, Nicholas Hoult is quickly becoming my favorite person alive. I thought Warm Bodies [review] was going to be my personal fave role, but nope. Not anymore.
• All the vehicles are badass, but that Tank Car thing was so f--king rad.
• I'm pretty sure someone gets killed with a flare gun. You might want to lay low.
• The next time my car starts to slow down and/or I'm being chased by a gaggle of murderous albinos, I'm totally going to climb out on the hood and spit into the cylinder. Well, after I pull over of course.
• THE LACK OF ROMANCE. Yes, I'm shouting that. In fact, even better than no ill-fated romance, was the complete lack of any sentimentality whatsoever. We've just survived actual Hell on Earth? A knowing nod will do.
• And finally, there's a stretch at the end where I was utterly convinced that Now, I've officially seen everything. I can't even put it into, well, a coherent sentence, but here are some of the words I would use if I tried: poles, chainsaws, bald guys, explosions, Jon's son, grandmothers, Max, unrelenting chaos, rips off his face and sheer motherf--king ecstasy. 

The only Boo here is that they all don't make it.

Booooooo!

• Okay, nitpicking here, but is this even Max's movie? He's introduced as the protagonist...but this ain't his story.
• I had a baby brother! Ugh, this scene, despite being less awful than I imagined, was still pretty tough.
• $15 for a 3D showing at 4:20pm? Good thing I had a pass...yikes.
• There was a moment when I thought I was watching The Dark Knight Rises again. *shudder* Apparently Hardy likes wearing shit over his mouth.
• I actually appreciate it, but since I don't want to turn my back on the previous four hundred posts, let me Boo the fact that the naked lady used as bait is totally implied! 
• What's with those guys on stilts? I need more of them in my life. Now, dammit.
• And finally, thanks a lot George Miller. I was looking forward to the rest of the summer...

It would seem that the mistake of May 16th has been rectified. You know what? It feels good. So good in fact, I feel like singing a mash-up of late-nineties pop songs with my college besties. 

That, or throw a flaming pole through their car door at a hundred miles an hour.