FIGHTING FOR SOME PEACE OF MIND
In my experience, good open world games aren’t supposed to work like this. They shouldn’t begin uninspiring and poorly written, only to slowly and gradually reveal a secret: that they actually have some excellent gameplay mechanics in store. Usually, an open world experience starts by sparking my curiosity with early promises of exploration, lore, and story, only to end in disappointment due to repetitive systems and shallow design.
With Mad Max, however, things turned out quite differently. First impressions were poor. I began playing, instantly underwhelmed by a lack of direction. The game seemed to want me to go nowhere and everywhere at once, as if I had been sent out onto the road to discover that there was nothing to see and no one to interact with in any meaningful way. The map pointed everything out, leaving no room for curiosity or mystery. What story there was felt detached from real life and devoid of authentic human psychology.
"Mad Max 2 is a film of pure action, of kinetic energy organised around the barest possible bones of a plot. It has a vision of a violent future world, but it doesn't develop that vision with characters and dialogue. It would rather plunge headlong into one of the most relentlessly aggressive movies ever made."
THE WASTELAND
I’m impressed by how Avalanche managed to assemble a believable, cohesive world with so little narrative material to work from. You are given a vast sandbox, a fast car, hostile forces in abundance, and an empty shell of a protagonist who cares little about himself or his surroundings. You’re also given a wealth of progression systems to draw you in—Max’s attributes, his equipment, his car, and several strongholds can all be upgraded.
As an open world game, it works remarkably well. As a story, it does not, giving you little reason to care about the time you spend there. It is an unrestrained macho fantasy set in a desert wasteland, inhabited by ravenous, war-painted beasts dressed as men—or perhaps men dressed as beasts. Their dwellings are sights to behold: sprawling mazes built from shipwrecks, oil rigs, caves, and whatever ruins they could salvage, furnished with heaps of scrap arranged into some depraved approximation of a livable space.
In terms of lore and worldbuilding, the game functions as a companion piece to the 2015 film Mad Max: Fury Road. It borrows terminology, characters, and vehicles, and takes place in a region of Australia that was once ocean floor. The sea is now gone, replaced by a vast desert known as the Great White. Water is scarce, forcing people to collect dew just to survive. The remnants of the old world are scavenged for scrap, which serves as currency. An especially lucky soul might stumble upon an unopened can of Dinky-D dog food, enough to feed a grown man.
MAX VS SCROTUS
The opening cinematic shows Max being chased by a group of wasteland raiders led by Scabrous Scrotus, son of Immortan Joe. After a brief fight, the raiders overpower Max, beat him senseless, steal his belongings, and take his iconic Interceptor. They leave him for dead, though not before Max manages to mortally wound Scrotus in a way that has to be seen to be believed. Max watches his car disappear in a cloud of dust on the horizon before limping away, accompanied only by a battered dog left behind by the Scrotus gang. And so the game begins.
This follows the established pattern of the films, where the lone Max must lose everything before he finds a reason to involve himself with others. Unfortunately, this is also where the game’s story starts to unravel. The problem isn’t that it’s underwritten—if anything, it’s overwritten. The plot is overly convoluted, lacking the stark simplicity that defines the films. You’re sent back and forth on a chain of fool’s errands, stripped of any real momentum.
I won’t bore you with the details of what follows. Suffice it to say that Scrotus, whom Max apparently left for dead on his Land Mover, turns out to be very much alive. He rules the region from Gastown and now has a personal vendetta against Max.
NEW CAR, NEW ALLIES
Gastown is an impressive sight - a hellscape visible on the horizon almost from the very beginning, polluting the sky with flames and black smoke. Even when it’s out of sight, you can hear it—metal clanging from its forges, distorted voices echoing through loudspeakers. It looms as an inevitable destination, along with a second confrontation with Scrotus, though reaching it will take time.
You soon acquire a new vehicle, a work-in-progress known as the Magnum Opus. It’s built by your new and indispensable ally, the hunchbacked mechanic Chumbucket, who accompanies you, repairs the car, upgrades it, and operates the rear-mounted harpoon. Together, you roam the wasteland, meeting allies with their own agendas and dismantling Scrotus’ oil operations piece by piece. I couldn’t help but wonder why Max doesn’t simply take over the operation instead of destroying it. His explanation is brief: he needs to make sure Scrotus has no reason to return.
FIGHT FOR YOUR LIFE
Combat—both on foot and in vehicles—is among the best I’ve encountered in an open world game. Clearly inspired by Arkham Asylum, the hand-to-hand fighting is a visceral blend of reflexes and spatial awareness. The satisfaction of landing a fully charged punch is only slightly diminished by the grotesque sound of teeth shattering on impact.
Upgrading Max’s equipment allows you to take more damage, hit harder, and unlock new moves. I quickly reached the level cap for Max himself, which helped significantly, but the difficulty continued to rise even after that. From that point on, improvement depended entirely on my own skill as a player.
Each Scrotus camp has a difficulty rating, often culminating in a brutal boss fight. Clearing them all, from easiest to hardest, feels like the core Mad Max experience, while the story remains a thin legend draped over the action. This reminded me of Shadow of Mordor, another licensed game with weak storytelling but excellent combat mechanics. Warner Bros clearly knows how to publish games that deliver satisfying fights.
Vehicular combat is just as engaging. You’ll take on convoys transporting oil along heavily trafficked routes, their roads darkened by constant use. This is where the game most closely resembles the films, as you single-handedly attack clusters of armed vehicles escorting massive fuel trucks. At first, you rely on your harpoon, shotgun, ramming grill, and driving skills, but your arsenal steadily expands as the game progresses.
THE ESSENCE OF MAD MAX
Guerrilla tactics and survival define this wasteland. It is, at its core, a war zone—and this is where Avalanche excels. They understand third-person controls and the intricate physics of vehicular movement. As I roam the desert without a grand objective, the game slowly transforms into something unmistakably Mad Max. The sense of speed sets in. Max is going nowhere fast. It’s easy to believe that this is his empty existence between the larger adventures depicted in the films.
There’s a tangible weight to everything, even in how Max moves. He struggles to accelerate when running. His combat animations lack the speed and grace of his enemies. Fail at vehicular combat, and you’ll find it nearly impossible to catch fleeing prey. All of this communicates a persistent mental and physical hardship, a kind of constant exhaustion or depression, reinforced by the sound design. The oppression intensifies as you approach Gastown and its dreadful noises grow louder. It’s the Mordor of the wasteland. The only real comfort is the sound of a healthy V8 engine beneath the hood, ready to carry you to safety in an instant.
Do you need further explanation? Max brooding over the apocalypse and the ramblings of madmen? If so, the main story and scattered historical relics are there for you. Feel free to dig into them. I’ll pass. I’m sure nothing good will come of it.
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