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Whodunnit? Ask the audience

When Charles Dickens died 145 years ago this month, he left behind an unfinished novel, The Mystery of Edwin Drood. Release was scheduled in a dozen installments between 1870 and 1871, but he finished only six. Afterward, it became a bit of a cottage industry to take on the novel’s completion, including deciding which of Dickens’ characters was responsible for the murder of the title character.  Would-be Dickens met with varying levels of success. One that turned out quite well is the version that kicks off Annapolis Summer Garden Theatre’s 50th season.
    With book, music and lyrics by Rupert Holmes (earworm warning: Holmes is perhaps best known for his 1979 hit “Escape … The Piña Colada Song”), the show debuted in 1985 and won Holmes five Tony Awards, including Best Musical, Best Book and Best Original Score. Lighter and broader than the novel, this musical Drood’s action and audience are in an old-time English music hall, a show-within-a-show complete with emcee and cast playing not Dickens’ characters but music hall performers playing Dickens’ characters.
    And what characters they are, an English town’s worth of winking whackies, led by a triad of top talent. David Merrill has a great time as John Jasper, Drood’s schizoid uncle and choirmaster. Paige Miller is the sincere ingénue Rosa Bud, Drood’s betrothed after whom Jasper lusts. Emily Lentz is Drood in a traditional cross-dressing role. All three have wonderful voices, and Merrill’s and Miller’s especially soar on the operatic “The Name of Love and Moonfall,” sung after he confesses his love for her.
     As the proprietor of the Music Hall Royale, Erik Alexis excitedly introduces us to the actors and their characters and guides us through the story with old jokes and a fine voice. His duet with Merrill on “Both Sides of the Coin,” a 100mph patter-song romp through an actor’s confusion when playing two parts, is a highlight of the night.
    As the newcomers from Ceylon, Casey Lynne Garner and DJ Wojciehowski stir things up nicely as siblings Helena and Neville Landless. Wendell Holland’s Reverend Crisparkle is perhaps not the upstanding man of the cloth he wants us to believe. As Princess Puffer, an opium den denizen, Maribeth Vogel offers up a fine “The Garden Path to Hell” in describing how a boyfriend turned her to a life of sleaze. Several other fine characters anchor the show, including Ethan Goldberg as Durdles, the usually drunk stonemason, and Stephanie Bernholz, doing a fine job with the stick puppet that plays Durdles’ Deputy.
    Connecting all of these characters to the plot might take more space than allotted here, so let’s just say that when Drood ends up murdered, there are plenty of suspects, plus a new character who comes on to investigate. This being a musical based on Dickens’ version of Drood rather than the brooding, dark and incomplete novel, it’s all tied up with a happy ending. Several, in fact.    
    Whodunnit? You get to decide.


Director: Andy Scott. Music director: Ken Kimble. Choreographer: Elysia Greene-Merrill. Stage manager: Kristy McKeever. Costumer: Jackie Colestock. Lighting designer: Drew Fox.
 
Playing thru June 20. Th-S plus W June 17 8pm: 143 Compromise St., Annapolis. $22; rsvp: 410-268-9212; summergarden.com.

The music is timeless as life ­imitates art

Is it life imitates art? Or art imitates life? Either way, when Kiss Me, Kate hit Broadway back in 1948, winning a Tony Award, it marked the first time that Cole Porter’s music and lyrics integrated into a stage story, moving beyond showcasing Porter’s clever musical banter to pushing the story along. The story, told in show-within-a-show technique, is the on-and-offstage comedy of errors of the producer, director and star of musical version of Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew, Fred Graham, his ex-wife and costar Lilli Vanessi, and a comic cast with some very fine voices.
    Brian Binney nails Fred’s egoism, has a fine voice and cavorts across the stage with a jumpiness that mirrors his desperation to ensure that the show goes on. He is desperately trying to keep Lilli from quitting after she discovers his lust for Lois Lane, the sexy young actress whose boyfriend owes some very bad men some very big bucks. As Lilli, Brenda D. Parker is as convincingly egotistical as Fred. She has a powerhouse voice that is flexible enough to move from ballad to comedic in a matter of measures. As Lois and Bill, her boyfriend in arrears, Amy Greco and Nathan Bowen give us a pair of sure-footed hoofers and singers who seem born to the stage of old, whose attractions were soft shoe and solid voices, not special effects and remakes.
    The story is frantic and funny, but it’s the classic Porter songs that keep the audience — at least those of a certain age or interest in Broadway history — thinking a-ha at recognizing tunes that turned out to be timeless. The hit parade starts with the company announcing “Another Op’nin’, Another Show.” As the parade passes by, we’re mesmerized by Parker’s beautiful “So in Love” and riotous “I Hate Men,” Greco’s and Bowen’s “Why Can’t You Behave?” and, opening Act II, Jared Shamberger’s turn as Paul energetically leading the company through a very nicely choreographed “Too Darn Hot.” Special mention to the bassist in the orchestra — either Jeff Eckert or Steve Hudgins in the program — who plucks a very jazzy accompaniment on the latter.
    Other chestnuts, from “Wunderbar” by Binney and Parker to Greco’s “Always True to You in My Fashion,” keep the parade of hits coming. When two toughies, played by Josh Hampton and Michael Iacone, show up trying to collect from Bowen’s Bill and end up a part of the cast, they bring a cool liveliness to the goings-on that culminates in a hilarious “Brush Up Your Shakespeare” that seems to go on forever — and deserves to.
    Costumes by Linda Swann are colorful and fun. Director Roy Hammond and choreographer Rikki Howie Lacewell keep the pace moving. Stage manager Joanne D. Wilson keeps the scene changes short. The live orchestra led by Joe Biddle does a nice job moving the music without overpowering the singers, quite an accomplishment when an orchestra of more than a dozen is playing in a relatively small 155-seat venue like Bowie Playhouse.
    2nd Star’s Kiss Me, Kate brings us old Broadway that’s as good as new. It’s comedy, romance and music that were built to last. Judging by the vitality of 2nd Star’s production, tickets likely won’t.


Playing thru June 27, FSa 8pm; Su 3pm: Bowie Playhouse at White Marsh Park, Bowie; $22 w/discounts; rsvp: 410-757-5700; 2ndstarproductions.com.

Focus on the future; forget the plot

As a little girl, Casey Newton (Britt Robertson: The Longest Ride) dreamed of reaching the stars. Her father (Tim McGraw: Country Strong), a NASA engineer, always told her it was possible. But as Casey enters high school, that dream seems light-years away.
    Her dreams fall before her eyes when NASA tears down the Cape Canaveral launch pad near her home and lay offs her father. It seems the world has stopped dreaming and stopped reaching for the stars. The environment is crumbling, violence around the world is skyrocketing.
    Just as Casey is about to give up on her dreams and the world, she discovers a mysterious pin. Touching it transports her to the futuristic Tomorrowland, where energy is clean, people are happy and space exploration is a high school requirement.
    Fascinated, Casey seeks to know more. She finds Frank Walker (George Clooney: The Monuments Men), a former child prodigy who lived in Tomorrowland. He has grown into a bitter hermit exiled after inventing something bad. Though he refuses to speak to her, Casey’s presence tips off Tomorrowland security, which rushes to contain her.
    Can Casey elude the security forces? Will Frank take her to Tomorrowland? How can a movie be beautiful and boring at the same time?
    Tomorrowland promises excellence. Robot henchmen, a girl who can lift a car, ray guns, hover trains, George Clooney. Yet it’s overlong, oversimplified and sometimes just plain dull.
    For all its attempt to say big things, Tomorrowland lacks nuance and depth. Director Brad Bird (Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol) builds a stunning world, but the philosophical questions he ­raises, though sophomoric, are never answered — even explored. The premise of keep dreaming, everyone! would look great on a poster outside Tomorrowland in Disney World (which is the inspiration for the film).
    The biggest problem is that Bird builds a visually sumptuous future world but denies us exploration rights. Plenty of panning shots show us technology, but we only meet one inhabitant, the film’s antagonist. Without people, the beautiful visuals are a hollow façade.
    Not all is lost. Clooney and Robertson have excellent chemistry, so the film comes alive when they interact. The problems arise when the film attempts to expand on the world beyond them. Supporting players fall flat, plotlines go nowhere and motivation is murky.
    Tomorrowland isn’t a failure, but it wastes a lot of its potential. We could hope such an advanced society would be better at telling its story.

Fair Fantasy • PG • 130 mins.

Our atmosphere tints summer moons

The moon waxes through the weekend, reaching full phase Tuesday, June 2. This time of year the moon follows a low, lazy arc above the southern horizon. At such a low angle to the horizon, before reaching our eyes the moon’s light must cut through much more of earth’s atmosphere than in winter, when the moon shines high overhead. Gases and trapped moisture within the atmosphere combine to tint the image we see a red, orange or yellow, which explains the names of June’s full moon: the Strawberry Moon, the Rose Moon and the Honey Moon.
    Friday night, the moon is joined by Spica, the blue-white first-magnitude star of Virgo, which is just a few degrees below and to the right of the moon.
    Saturday the moon has pulled westward and is midway between Spica to its right and Saturn to its left. Sunday the moon is less than 10 degrees to the left of Saturn, and Monday it is just two degrees to the the left of Saturn with red-orange Antares a few degrees below.
    Having just reached opposition, its closest point to earth and dead-opposite the sun, Saturn rises as the sun sets, is high overhead at midnight and sets with daybreak. Shining at zero magnitude, Saturn is brighter than it’s been in eight years. Better yet, its rings are positioned to allow the best possible viewing and appear all the brighter so close to opposition.
    Saturn isn’t the only planet visible after dark. Sunset reveals Venus high in the west and Jupiter 20 degrees higher still. Night to night, Venus is gaining ground on Jupiter leading to a grand conjunction in late June. Monday Venus forms a near-stright line with the Gemini twins Pollux and Castor.
    By late-evening the stars of the Summer Triangle are perched above the east horizon. Farthest west is the brightest and the fifth-brightest star, Vega, of the constellation Lyra. Off to the southeast of Vega and almost as bright is Altair of Aquila the eagle. Closing the triangle is first-magnitude Deneb, the head of Cygnus the swan.

Whenever you can

Everything conspired against my going fishing. When I had the time the weather went bad, high winds or rain, sometimes both. When weather was right, my schedule turned on me: guests from out of town, family gatherings and, of course, work.
    When finally I got a break, it wasn’t until the afternoon that I could get away. The worst part of the fishing day is the high-sun, high-heat of the day from noon until at least 4pm. Then again, everyone knows that the best time to go fishing is whenever you can, so I did.
    On the water by 2pm and supplied with some nice, fresh menhaden and a bucket of frozen foul-smelling chum of the same species, a cooler full of ice and a couple of cold bottles of water, I made my way to a spot just off of the mouth of the Severn in 25 feet of water.
    Anchoring and getting set up took about 20 minutes. I had to re-rig my four rods, as the leaders were kinked and scarred from use and the hooks were not particularly sharp. Cutting off about 10 feet of line, I retied it to the swivels, clipped in some new live-lining sleeves and knotted on a two-foot section of 25-pound fluorocarbon for the leader. I finished with fresh and very sharp 7/0 short-shanked bait hooks.
    Setting my chum bag out about halfway to the bottom, I baited up and set out my rods to begin the wait. Wrong time of day, but the tide was making up and in the same direction as the wind, so my lines streamed out nicely from the stern. All I needed was a little cooperation from the fish.
    Three boats were nearby, and the one I had queried earlier indicated that the bite had been dead, so I prepared for a slow afternoon. Then, almost immediately, one of my rod tips twitched. Retrieving the rod from the holder, I released the reel’s clicker so there would be no resistance on the line.
    The spool began to turn, slowly at first, then more rapidly as a fish swam off with my bait. I counted slowly to six. Then put the reel in gear. When the line came tight, I set the hook.
    As I fought this fish, one of my other outfits had a run, the clicker chattering away. I reached over and threw the reel in gear. The fish hooked itself. I threw the other two outfits in gear as well, still struggling with the first fish.
    It was a long battle. By the time I finally netted the muscular devil, all the remaining rods in the holders had bent over double. Laying the gleaming 31-inch striper, still in the net, on the deck, I attended to the three straining rigs.
    The next outfit had a plump 19-incher, which went immediately back over the side. The second rod proved a disappointment as the fish slipped the hook the moment I picked up the outfit. The last rod, though, after another lengthy fight, resulted in a husky 27-inch fish, almost as fat as the first.
    I considered continuing, given the suddenly red-hot bite. But the thought of deep-hooking a beauty that would only have to be released dampened that urge. Looking around at the other boats nearby, I also saw that my good fortune had apparently gone unshared.
    I gave thanks to the fish gods and put my remaining bait and chum back on ice for another day.

Oh the harm it causes!

In 1976, I wrote “Over-Mulching, A National Disaster” for a national trade journal. Nasty letters came from as far as Oregon and California. Forty years later, over-mulching has become a monkey-see-monkey-do calamity.
     Earlier this spring, I spent several days diagnosing plant problems for several landscape architects. In all but one, the problems were caused by excessive use of nutrient-robbing mulches.
    In several instances, well-established plantings of pachysandra were being suffocated by excessive mulch or starved by mulches containing raw wood. Where raw wood was applied around pachysandra, the plants were yellow green and the vegetation sparse. In the areas where four inches or more of mulch was applied, the pachysandra was dead and the stems rotten. 
    In one landscape, several hundreds of square feet of what was once a well established planting of English ivy was killed after having been mulched with Big Red. About three inches had been applied last year, follow by another application this year. I am frequently asked to recommend an herbicide for killing English ivy; from now on I will recommend a heavy mulching with Big Red. Guaranteed to give 100 percent control, organically.
    I saw azaleas with sparse distribution of small purple leaves and struggling in what appeared to be two to four inches of shredded hardwood bark. Soil tests indicated in excess of 300 pounds of manganese. Any level in excess of 80 pounds per acre is considered toxic to the roots of plants. It’s clear from the soil test results that shredded hardwood bark had been applied repeatedly for several years. Since the property owner had hired several yard maintenance firms over the years, she was not aware of what kind of mulch had been applied.
    In one yard I examined a large planting of boxwood with severe symptoms of decline. Digging around the base of the plants, I saw that they had been mulched several times. Over the years I have seen numerous once-healthy and hardy boxwoods killed by mulch. Boxwoods are shallow-rooted plants and should never be mulched. They are drought tolerant, and enzymes emitted by the roots and leaves prevent many weed species from growing around them.
    Most of the landscape maintenance companies were blaming poor drainage for decline or death. However, as I walked on the lawns adjoining these plantings and in the plantings, I saw and felt no symptoms of poor drainage. I augured holes in these areas and found the soil to be well drained.
    The only landscape where I did not see mulch problems was in a yard where water coming from a newly installed copper roof had flowed. Here, the decline in growth and the loss of plants was due to copper toxicity. I could easily follow the flow of water from the downspouts and areas where the water pooled. The solution to this problem was to divert the water away from the plants until the surface of the copper sheeting oxidizes to a brown or gray-green color.
    More on mulch next week …


Ask Dr. Gouin your questions at DR.FRGouin@gmail.com. Please include your name and address.

Another Classic-Lite premieres

Two summers ago, the Annapolis Shakespeare Company offered a new concept in dinner theater: Comedy in the Courtyard at Reynolds Tavern, featuring modern adaptations of classics from the Enlightenment. Satires such as Molière’s Tartuffe and The Schemings of Scapin, performed by comely professionals with a flair for punny couplets, found audiences as hungry for bawdy barbs as they were for shrimp and grits. So when Artistic Director Sally Boyett commissioned Timothy Mooney, author of 17 Molière adaptations, to translate an Italian classic — Carlo Goldoni’s The Servant of Two Masters  — the public house was packed. Mooney flew in from Chicago for the champagne reception honoring this world premiere about love and revenge among bumbling aristocrats, saucy maids and a scheming servant.
    The servant in question, Truffaldino (Patrick Truhler), is an opportunist whose greed and incompetence engender romance between his two masters after two hours of swashbuckling confusion. It all starts when a Venetian merchant, Pantalone (Brian Keith MacDonald), arranges for his daughter Clarice (Megan Morse Jans) to marry Silvio (Michael Windsor), son of Doctor Lombardi (James Carpenter). Clarice’s previous betrothed, Federigo (Laura Rocklyn), was killed by Florindo (Carpenter), the lover of Federigo’s sister Beatrice (Rocklyn). Now Beatrice, disguised as her dead brother, has come to claim Federigo’s uncollected dowry. Yet unbeknownst to Beatrice, her lover Florindo arrives in Venice simultaneously. The servant Truffaldino contracts to serve them both even as his feeble brain is besotten with love for Clarice’s maidservant, Smeraldina (Amy Pastoor). Only the innkeeper, Brighella (Sue Struve), knows who’s who, and nobody knows fully what’s what in this comedy of errors where all’s well that ends well.
    Confused? I still am, but it really doesn’t matter. In the spirit of the Three Stooges, the entertainment lies in the delivery and the pratfalls. The dialogue is modern with such clever observations as defining patriarchy as a cockocracy. Witticisms are served up with a sauce of slapstick garnished with outrageous sound effects. A chorus of whistles, drums, gongs, castanets, horns and whipsticks accompany each gag, and no one utters the name of the mysteriously reincarnated Federigo without Ennio Morricone’s riff from The Good, the Bad and the Ugly echoing through the courtyard.
    The actors engage the audience by snatching props from their tables and deigning to sit with them on occasion, perhaps waiting in vain for a bite of the bread pudding or other menu offerings so highly praised in the script. Bawdy jokes, double entendres and physical gags are de rigueur, and Truhler as the servant is a buffoon par excellence.
    This costume comedy is a lowbrow introduction to a highbrow classic intended to entertain and enlighten the modern audience on the roots of revolutionary philosophy and letters. It runs two hours with two intermissions, and regular menu prices are in effect.


Director: Sally Boyett. Costumes: Jackie Colestock. Stage Manager: Sara K. Smith.

Playing Tuesdays (rain date Wed.) thru Sept. 29, 7:30pm (come early for dinner and drinks): 1747 Pub Courtyard at Reynolds Tavern, Annapolis; $25 w/advance discounts plus fare; rsvp: 410-415-3513; annapolisshakespeare.org.

 

No matter which county issued your card, you can use any library in Maryland

Libraries are this week’s feature story, specifically Anne Arundel public libraries, which have come to the fork in the road and must, as Yogi Berra said, take it.
    Wherever you live, this story of one county’s conflict touches you. For there’s magic in your Maryland library card. No matter what library issued it, your card opens the door to every public library in the state. Wherever you roam, whatever special collections you want to browse, you’re a welcome visitor.
    For me and many South Arundel readers, as well as Calvert Countians, the Calvert County library system is close to home and heart.
    Calvert County’s 90,613 people have four libraries, all within 10 miles of every address. Like Anne Arundel libraries, Calvert’s run a full schedule of events. Most larger events are held at the Central Library and easily draw visitors from more than 20 miles. The four libraries, constructed between 1981 and 2006, encompass 47,140 square feet. The general recommendation for public libraries is a square foot per county resident. By this measure, Library Director Carrie Plymire tells us, Calvert Library is half the size that it should be to best serve the community.
    By the way, no Maryland library lives up to that standard. Baltimore’s Enoch Pratt comes the closest, at .0924. Anne Arundel’s system offers only .0481, the lowest of the nine central Maryland counties.
    Back to Calvert: The county’s central library is Prince Frederick, which moved in 2006 into a newly constructed building: “At 28,000 airy square feet, it doubled our space,” said Patricia Hofmann, the library director in charge of its creation. “There is plenty of room for information in all forms, 27 well-used computers, teaching and get-togethers, even a café.” The cost, 10 years ago, was $8 million.
    Since 2006, Calvert Library Prince Frederick has added another 20 public computers. The meeting rooms are used every day for library programming and community organizations and businesses. Plymire, who replaced Hofmann, says she “often wishes for another 5,000 square feet to accommodate more meeting rooms, a technology lab, creative space for audio and video production and other flexible spaces that would enable Calvert Library to better serve its community.”
    Two more of Calvert’s libraries are upgrading. In 2013, Southern library moved from 3,250 square feet in Lusby to an interim location in Solomons, 9,200 square feet of the old Woodburns grocery store The county spent a little under $1 million, and the Calvert Library Foundation added another $233,000 for additional windows, technology and furniture. A new 16,000-square-foot library for the southern part of the county is slated for land acquisition in fiscal year 2021.
    Twin Beaches branch is currently operating in 4,240 square feet of leased space in Chesapeake Beach. Staff are very creative with their programming — often borrowing space in neighboring senior centers or fire stations — as there aren’t any meeting rooms or dedicated storytime space in the branch. Twin Beaches is slated for a new 16,000-square-foot branch with architecture and engineering to begin in fiscal year 2019. That project is expected to cost approximately $7 million.
    The fourth branch, Fairview, has its feet solidly in the past, looking pretty much the same as when I first used it nearly three decades ago. At 5,200 square feet it is, Plymire says, “a very busy branch right on Route 4 that serves much of the commuting population.”
    With Maryland’s rare magic library card, they’re all yours.

Sandra Olivetti Martin
Editor and publisher; editor@bayweekly.com

Open season on these “voracious predators”

Reader Jesse Ledford asks: “Are there any reports on snakeheads in the Patuxent River? I’ve seen one in a lake in Lusby that runs into the Patuxent.”
    There sure are, and that’s not the only place. Scientists at the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center have received reports of snakehead fish in the Patuxent, with some caught in the main stem near Jug Bay. The Potomac is prime snakehead territory. The highly adaptable predator has also shown up on the Eastern Shore in the Nanticoke, Wicomico, and Blackwater rivers.
    Northern snakeheads, as they’re officially called, are a fish native to China. But in 2002 the species appeared within the Chesapeake Bay’s own watershed. From a pond in Crofton, they’ve spread widely. This is trouble because snakeheads breed rapidly and eat local fish. Females spawn multiple times per year and usually release around 40,000 eggs. Maryland Department of Natural Resources describes these fish as “voracious predators.” All these snakeheads eating the population of native fish disturbs the Bay’s fragile ecosystem.

Blackened Snakehead

11⁄2 tablespoon paprika
1
tablespoon garlic powder
1 tablespoon onion powder
1 tablespoon dried thyme
1 teaspoon black pepper    
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon dried basil
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon of kosher salt

1 snakehead filet skinned and cut into 4 pieces
    Preheat oven to 400 degrees

    In a mixing bowl combine the first nine ingredients. (This blackening spice works great with all fish, game and poultry for blackening and smoking. It can be stored for quite some time.)
    
With a dry towel pat the fish. Coat each piece on one side with a generous amount of blackening seasoning.
    Place 1 tablespoon cooking oil into a cast iron skillet and place over high heat. Once the pan has heated (you’ll know its hot when the oil is about to smoke and slides freely across the pan), place fish in the pan seasoned side down and press gently with a spatula.
Allow the fish to sear approximately 3 minutes.
Gently turn and sear for 1 minute. Place fish in oven and cook 3 to 5 minutes depending on the thickness of the filet.

    What to do? Catch and eat them.
    To help curb the invasion, DNR added an Invasive Species Award category to the annual Maryland Fishing Challenge. So now catching snakeheads in the Bay not only helps keep the ecosystem healthy but also can win you prizes. Info at http://tinyurl.com/m9dljpt.
    The fish themselves are a prize as well. They may not look like it, but they are quite tasty. Snakeheads are popular on the menus in their homeland of Asia, and you can enjoy their taste as well.
    How to cook such a fish?
    Executive Chef Chad Wells of Alewife in Baltimore offered this recipe to Maryland Natural Resource Magazine.

Embrace the madness

In a post-apocalyptic desert, a man flees a hoard of irradiated bikers. The bikers, pale and riddled with tumors, need “blood bags” — men with clean blood — to stave off the effects of radiation sickness. Max (Tom Hardy) is caught and hanged from a makeshift IV poll for the draining.
    Thee bikers serve Immortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne), a ruthless warlord. Controlling the only clean water source, he forces the locals to serve him or face certain, excruciating death. His brainwashed biker “war boys” gladly do his bidding. Non-irradiated women are forced to become his brides as he attempts to breed a “clean” bloodline for his empire.
    But Immortan’s loyal war party driver Imperator Furiosa (Charlize Theron) takes an unexpected detour to free his brides, driving them to safety in a fabled green land. His war boys follow.
    Will Max join Furiosa to save the women? Or will his survival instinct keep him out of the fray?
    A two-hour chase, Mad Max: Fury Road is a loud, crazy blur of twisted metal and mutilated flesh. It’s also one of the best action movies made in the last three decades. Director George Miller, who helmed the original Mad Max franchise, expounds on the visual insanity of the earlier film. Every frame is a painting, each camera movement chosen to help Miller choreograph the on-screen chaos. This type of gonzo filmmaking won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but it’s a bold, complete vision that is impressive to behold.
    Fury Road is also a deceptively simple film with a lot to say about gender politics, disabilities and religion. Miller makes Max an observer of the world, a would-be hero who routinely fails. The real hero is Furiosa, a one-armed woman who brazenly defies a brutal dictator to save enslaved women and expose Immortan Joe as a false idol.
    As Max, Hardy is pitch-perfect in what could be a generic role. Though he’s nearly silent for the first hour, Hardy is able to imbue Max with both emotion and humor. Hardy’s Max is driven to survive at all costs but is still haunted by those he couldn’t save — the perfect hero for a land that has lost all sense of morality.
    A colossus of a film, filled with metaphor, gore and intense action, Mad Max: Fury Road crafts an insane yet fascinating world. Look deeper for interesting commentary on society, or sit back with a bucket of popcorn and enjoy the greatest chase movie of the new millennium.

Great Action Movie • R • 120 mins.