Set in the barren Australian outback, the minimalist plot places cop-turned-loner Max into the middle of a conflict between a bloodthirsty gang of road scavengers and a “tribe” of families searching for paradise. Max and his trusty canine companion, Dog, try to not to get involved. But fate intervenes and Max finds himself forced to become an unwilling hero.
Writer-director George Miller acknowledges the influence of both American Westerns and Japanese samurai films. Indeed, the first time I saw The Road Warrior, it reminded me of George Stevens’ Western classic Shane. Like the former gunslinger Shane, Max is a loner who reluctantly comes to the defense of peaceful folks trying to fend off villains who want their land (well, their gasoline in The Road Warrior). Shane tries to put his past behind him and considers joining the farmers he defends. Max accepts his past, although I think he briefly contemplates joining a “family” again. And, finally, both Shane and Max forge friendships with young boys.
Of course, for many viewers, The Road Warrior is simply a superbly crafted action picture. The 17-minute chase climax combines tense editing, terrific stunts, and—like all great chases—a collection of interesting mini-dramas as Max drives a tanker with the villains in pursuit. My favorite sequence occurs when Max’s shotgun shells fly through the blown-out windshield frame and roll down the hood of the speeding rig. At Max’s prompting, the frightened Feral Kid crawls out to get them—only to encounter a nasty shock.
Alas, the Feral Kid was nowhere in sight when Miller and Gibson teamed up again for a second sequel with 1985’s Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome. It recycled some of the same elements (instead of Max and one kid, why not Max and a bunch of them?). Though better than the first film in the trilogy, it lacked the power and sense of destiny that makes The Road Warrior such a memorable movie.