There were times in my life when I would plan days in advance to order a pizza. Not just any pizza, but Giordano’s stuffed spinach deep dish. On Sunday I would plan out my meals for the week, and I’d make a note to order that $30, extra large pizza all for myself on Thursday, and I’d wait all week knowing that on Thursday, I’d be biting into that delicious wad of melted cheese. And when Thursday finally rolled around, and I picked up that pizza from the restaurant, and almost ritualistically cut it and sat down with two slices on my plate; that first bite was almost dizzying. It was a high expectation living up to a reality. Nothing about it let me down. That’s where Mad Max: Fury Road comes in. I haven’t been so hyped up for a movie in a while, and when it ended up being everything I hoped for, it became worth the agonizing wait.
Ya know, I’m sorry I wasted your time with that pizza metaphor. I probably should have just started with the sentence “I haven’t been so hyped up for a movie…”. I always have to attempt to make dumb comparisons to food. That’s a crappily accurate expectation you should probably have for my reviews by now. So at least I didn’t let you down in that regard.