I was under the mojo-sapping influence of a stomach bug when I joined Pal-for-Life Glen Weldon in the studio for a Small Batch dissection of Mad Max: Fury Road, a film I love.
Readers of my Twitter feed know that matters of hydration are foremost in my mind during DC's April-to-November summers, what with 2015 being my 24th consecutive year as a runner and all. So while I accepted most of Fury Road's fantastical elements without question, the matter of how everyone in the movie didn't pass out from heat exhaustion after 30 seconds of combat was one I would be disposed to fixate upon even if I hadn't spent the night prior to the taping on my couch, curled up in the fetal position around a bottle of Gatorade.
And yet it never comes up in our discussion.
How? Professionalism.
I hope I did an okay job of explaining that while Fury Road is essentially one long chase involving dozens of what look to be astonishingly gas-guzzling (but also astonishing, full-stop) vehicles, the film is a marvel of narrative efficiency.
Hear us prattle on here.