The holy Furiosa was born into an oasis in a barren and blighted land. She was taken from that place, torn from her family to become an accidental exile. And yet she thrived.
She transformed into Imperator Furiosa — respected warrior and captain in the ranks of Immortan Joe’s minions. A leader of war boys and master of a war rig. Comfortable and exalted as she might be, she abandoned it and sought to bring the Wives out of slavery.
You know their names, but let us speak them — the Splendid Angharad, Toast, Capable, Cheedo and the Dag — and let us remember them in moments when we are too scared to run. For they ran.
Their trials were many, but the first was the strangest and most fortuitous. They ran into Max. That Max. Mad Max.
Oh riotous spirit! Oh strange omen! Oh stone in the river of Fate!
Others would have destroyed one another — left Furiosa bleeding in the sand and stabbed this Max, cut his wandering short. But these two are fated for better, for greater things, and instead Furiosa gains an ally — a shoulder to shoot from, a steady hand on the wheel.
Together they are pursued across the desert by the wicked forces of Immortan Joe, and here is the price of bravery, dear friends. For nothing is worth the doing, but it has a price. When Furiosa’s life sits in the crosshairs, it is Angharad and her unborn child who stand between her and the bullet. Though Joe will not risk a child and potential heir, Death is not to be cheated by luck — not long, never for long — and the Splendid Angharad falls soon after.
Into the night they drive — to the edge of the world, through and over sand…
…To the place that was an oasis, and is no more. Furiosa finds her family, but not her home. She is left with the terrible choice: a path with slim hope (but that they will die free). Then — oh Fate, but it was a lovely day that brought them together — Max offers another way. And they choose to ride together back into the maw of Hell.
The four wives, a lost boy, Max and Furiosa turn with the legendary Vulvalini back towards a new green place. Charging into face such fire and rubber and dirt, the stench of burning gasoline and engine grease. And when the running battle brings Furiosa face to face with Immortan Joe – it leaves Joe with no face at all.
You know the rest — the blood that saved her and the way the water flowed. You know what she went on to be. Our Furiosa. Saint Furiosa of the Road. Witness her.