Chapter 720: A Mind-Blowing Film

"Compared to this, James Bond's action scenes are just the flashy flailing of a pretty boy, and the car chases in Fast and Furious 4 are like kindergartners driving bumper cars."

He didn't know who had voiced that opinion in English, but Guan Yadi understood it and agreed from the bottom of his heart. If he had to rate it, he would absolutely give Duke's new film a hundred and twenty points!

Over in the jury seating area of the Festival Palace, Natalie Portman looked rather grim. With the screening drawing to a close, she realized she had missed out on an incredibly outstanding—even great—female role. It was no exaggeration to call such a character exceedingly rare in Hollywood.

Furiosa outshone the male lead—any fool could see that. Nothing she did was motivated by messy reasons like searching for love, nor did she need a man to lean on. She fought for her own survival, and she had the strength to keep fighting.

Beneath the heavy smoky makeup, those bright eyes radiated a piercing murderous intent, tempered by a deep compassion for life. Natalie hadn't seen such an authentic female character in years—a woman who won everyone's respect purely through her own capability, with no need for a flawless face, sheer clothing, or a skintight bodysuit.

That bastard's Fury Road was probably the best portrayal of a female character in any film from recent years—fleshed out, fiercely loyal, and deeply human.

She even suspected that the obnoxious Charlize Theron might snag another nomination for Oscar Best Actress!

In a movie where the plot was driven entirely by action with minimal dialogue—a film overflowing with testosterone and fanatical, bloodthirsty men—Charlize Theron embodied the best traits of a woman: nuance, resilience, complexity, and compassion. She was never once overshadowed by the dizzying action sequences, the steampunk set pieces, or the relentless, manic violence filling the screen. It was truly rare.

The feminists in Hollywood would undoubtedly raise her up as their banner!

The feminist movement in Hollywood had steadily gained traction in recent years, growing into a massive force. Earning the support of that demographic would bring nothing but benefits for the future...

And yet, that force had completely slipped through her fingers!

Natalie Portman turned her gaze to the front row, spotting that tall piece of eye candy. She firmly believed that if she had played Furiosa instead, the character would have been even more spectacular!

Now, however, all of that glory belonged solely to Charlize Theron.

Even Natalie had to admit that, by teaming up with Duke once more, Charlize Theron had unleashed a fierce, undeniably cool heroine upon the summer. When those bright, gleaming eyes stared right at you through the camera lens, it was impossible not to be captivated.

Yet even more mesmerizing than her physical charisma was the power of wisdom, courage, and love she exuded through the role. On today's silver screen—increasingly saturated with frail female figures and sissy male characters—she injected a potent dose of adrenaline, projecting a rugged strength like a fire-breathing engine.

Just like Fury Road itself, Charlize Theron was going to be an unforgettable surprise this summer.

Judging from the audience's reaction in the theater, Natalie Portman could easily draw that conclusion.

Sitting right beside her was Isabelle Huppert, the jury president for this year's Cannes Film Festival. From an angle others couldn't see, an unusual smile hung on her lips.

The people from Warner Brothers hadn't lied to her. The film's portrayal of women had far exceeded her highest expectations!

Isabelle Huppert was a feminist!

Yes, the film certainly had its flaws in how it treated women, but in the current global film industry, it was already an incredibly rare gem.

The protagonist of this movie was a woman missing an arm, and it wholeheartedly embodied feminism!

That was Isabelle Huppert's perspective.

What did feminism look like in most films? It meant giving audiences the spandex-clad superheroine they craved. It meant letting her slaughter her enemies and save the world on screen in the sexiest way possible. Yet in reality, the most common questions that actress would face were about how she maintained her figure or who she was romantically involved with. And no matter how hard she worked, her own colleagues would still "joke" that her character was just eye candy.

Most films featuring combat-capable women reverted to a "traditional," seemingly immutable formula at the critical moment: the men handled the main villain, while the women were relegated to fighting the small fry.

Then there were lesser films like Jurassic Park. They had female leads too, but a short two-minute trailer was all it took to tell the audience it was a traditional story: a muscular, intelligent man saving a high-and-mighty, book-smart female scientist. He was destined to save her life, and the two of them were destined to watch the sunset together at the end.

That wasn't feminism. In Isabelle Huppert's mind, such films contributed very little to elevating feminist awareness.

Fury Road, however, was a genuine feminist film. Perhaps the director hadn't deliberately set out to make one, and everything merely served the plot. Or perhaps he was a feminist himself, his subconscious viewing men and women as entirely equal, allowing the film to naturally and seamlessly champion women's rights: no matter your circumstances, you could make choices according to your own will. And that will could have absolutely nothing to do with men or romance—it was solely about taking control of your own destiny.

That alone was enough. It was enough for Isabelle Huppert to accept Warner Brothers' pitch and decide to throw her support behind the film.

Furiosa led the Women's Legion to seize Immortan Joe's citadel, and the male lead, Tom, quietly walked away. This neatly prevented the audience from wondering if he would just become the next tyrant and build a massive harem of his own. With that, the film concluded.

The entire audience rose to their feet. Thunderous applause echoed through the hall as many people in the VIP seats walked toward the cast and crew to offer their customary congratulations.

But Quentin Tarantino did not. He was fairly well acquainted with Duke and knew the man didn't care about such formalities at all.

He just wanted to find somewhere to sit in silence—that was his very first impulse after finishing Fury Road.

Having seen this movie, every car-chase film from the past—including Duke Rosenberg's own works—suddenly felt like the plodding pace of Driving Miss Daisy in his mind...

Standing up, Quentin Tarantino headed for the exit. He needed a quiet environment. Over two thousand spectators were packed inside the Festival Palace, yet his path out was completely unobstructed. Aside from a small handful, more than ninety percent of the crowd remained rooted in place, applauding Fury Road with all their might, showing absolutely no intention of leaving.

"Duke Rosenberg really pulled something off this time. He just invented a completely new genre of film."

Quentin Tarantino muttered to himself as he walked out, "Its name is... uh..."

He tapped his head. "I haven't figured it out yet."

He was certain of one thing, though. By endlessly magnifying countless details, Duke Rosenberg had forged a brand-new aesthetic of violence and delivered action sequences that would go down in cinematic history. Furthermore, the film proved that a director could still unleash terrifying creativity even within an assembly-line studio system.

"It wouldn't be overkill at all for ordinary audiences to go to the theater and watch this a second or even a third time..."

Before stepping out of the theater, he glanced back, practically able to hear the collective breathing of the two thousand audience members inside the Festival Palace's Lumiere Hall. "This is one truly fucking mesmerizing and mind-blowing film!"

Park Chan-wook didn't linger either. Taking advantage of the relatively clear aisles, he and several friends left the Lumiere Hall before the Festival Palace grew congested. He felt as though he had taken a relentless barrage of heavy punches right to the face. His mind was entirely blank; he didn't speak a single word to his companions all the way from the theater back to their hotel.

He simply didn't know what to say. He couldn't find the right adjectives...

The impact of the film was utterly staggering. It was genuinely twisted and seething with rage. Every single pore of the movie oozed an aura of deranged fury, and yet, it was so mesmerizing!

He was blown away right from the film's opening long take. The endless wasteland was captured with a sense of despairing beauty. Since he had just completed a 250-kilometer weighted trek across the Sahara Desert the previous month, seeing that boundless stretch of yellow instantly seized his heart in a vise grip.

But the real kicker was the car chases. They were completely unprecedented—brutal, unhinged, and hysterical. Yet, juxtaposed against the protagonist's steel-cold resolve, a strange beauty emerged from the chaos, leaving him completely dumbfounded by the time the credits rolled...

His palms stung from clapping so hard. Jiang Xiaojun, who hadn't even walked the red carpet, finally stopped applauding. His seat was so inconspicuous and far back that barely anyone had noticed him.

In truth, he didn't want to be noticed. With no film competing in the festival this year, he had only come to observe the latest trends in global cinema. He certainly wasn't like a certain "Bingbing" whose skin was as thick as the Himalayas—the sort who would drag along their own photography and PR team just to leech off the Cannes red carpet, entirely uninvited, without a single film or acting credit to their name.

Dawdling on the carpet to the point of being shooed away by the organizers... it was a total disgrace to their country's filmmakers on the international stage...

Wait, no. How was she even a filmmaker? She didn't deserve the title at all.

At that thought, Jiang Xiaojun tossed those messy distractions aside and looked back toward the silver screen, staring blankly as the final credits rolled.

If he had to review this movie, a single phrase fit it best: Fucking awesome!

Aside from "fucking awesome," what other words could even describe this film by Duke Rosenberg?

Absolutely everything about Fury Road had left an indelible impression on Jiang Xiaojun. He felt he would never, ever forget it.

The razor-sharp editing, the suffocating tension, the relentless pacing, and the infectious score—paired with intensely textured cinematography and a crystal-clear narrative—made the entire viewing experience feel like riding shotgun in that speeding truck driven by Charlize Theron. It was a purely exhilarating, high-octane thrill ride from start to finish, without a single dull moment to even blink.

Yet, even more impressive than its masterful cinematic techniques was the fact that it had constructed a brutal, utterly convincing post-apocalyptic world, delivering a worldview brimming with bold originality.