Preaching to the Post-Apocalypse Lovers
I watched two films yesterday that fetishized leather and pain. The first one was Preaching to the Perverted, the story of a group of religious conservatives in Britain trying to bring down a S&M club. It was like an Eastenders episode dealing with buttplugs and pierced genitalia. The second film was Mad Max, a classic of the post-apocalypse genre which is full of leather men on bikes and cars fighting each other in the Australian Outback. For the first time in years of Mad Max re-runs, I saw the version featuring the original Ozzie accents rather than the American or Brasilian dubbed versions. There's something about the Ozzie accent that perfectly fits a crumbling civilization. :-P
The Mad Max trilogy is strangely allegorical and prophetic. Filmed in 1979, it could have easily dealt with nuclear war, or some other popular paranoia of the time, but it went for global warming and the power of petroleum instead (which I think is much more popular today than ever before). The first film lays the groundwork for the society coming apart: police turn vigilante when puny liberals destroy the justice system; marauding gangs take on nicknames and outfits that wouldn't be out of place in London's Torture Garden; and the Ballardesque setting hints at a society crumbling and self-imploding because of global warming/eco destruction. These themes are then further explored in episodes 2 & 3.
I haven't seen Tarantino's Death Proof yet, but the trailer - with its fast cars and seventies look - reminded me of Mad Max. Must be another movie Tarantino studied for inspiration. Actually, the first scene of Mad Max, with the insane couple causing havoc on the roads as they are chased by the police, reminded me of the couple in Pulp Fiction's diner. The midnight movie element is there.
There are some rumours that a new Mad Max movie is in production, but without Mel Gibson. In the meantime, it would be nice if a cinema in London held a showing of the three Mad Max movies, back to back. And it would also be nice if Mel Gibson wasn't such an asshole in real life; I hate feeling guilty for watching his films.