I am either the ideal or the wrong person to review Mad Max: Fury Road. I like my movies simple but suspenseful, on the realistic side, with weight and witty dialogue, with rounded, believable characters. Mad Max doesn’t have any of this. Instead, it’s a loud, shrill, monomaniacal high-speed romp through a barren, deadly post-apocalyptic landscape. Reader, I loved it. Movies like this elicit one of two likely responses: you either want to get off that hellride, or you cry for more. I cried for more. What doesn’t truck with me is complaining about the action and violence; that would be like jumping into a pool and complaining about the wetness. You’ve been warned.

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