17 Lessons I Learned From Studying The Making of Mad Max
A short(ish) case study on how an unknown Australian filmmaker and his best friend created a successful first film that turned Mad Max into a global phenomenon.
Last month, I wrote a three-part essay series about how George Miller made the first Mad Max. But looking back, I realized that it was easy to miss the lessons worth learning— the ones that I picked up on and am trying to apply in my own career— because put together, the essays add up to around 12,000-13,000 words. Even for me, that’s a lot to go through to notice what is worth paying attention to and following.
So without further ado, here are 17 lessons that I found worth emulating.
Pay attention to the signs sent by the universe
Despite his interest in films— and the arts— George Miller was set on becoming a doctor. Even after he and his brother won a short film competition that gave the winners free access to a film workshop conducted at the University of Melbourne, Miller had no interest in attending…
… at least, not until a close call on a construction site gave him “an existential jolt”. The next day, Miller got on to his bike and drove 900km to attend the workshop. Thank God he did, because had he skipped it, he’d have missed out meeting one of the most important collaborators and friends in his life: Byron Kennedy, who produced the Mad Max films until his untimely death.
Find your Byron Kennedy
George Miller gets credit for creating Mad Max. But Mad Max got made because Byron Kennedy found ways to make it real. The two met for the first time at the aforementioned Melbourne workshop, and instantly connected. They found that they shared the same film interests and also recognized that the other person had strengths they lacked— Miller was more creative, Kennedy was better at handling the business side of things.
More than that, Kennedy found ways to raise the financing that made Mad Max a privately-funded movie (but we’ll get to that in a bit), and also kept an optimistic outlook on Mad Max. I think every filmmaker needs a Byron Kennedy in their life.
Make short films to practice and study filmmaking— and study the fine print in contracts while you’re at it!
Most people get a shock to hear that George Miller is actually Dr. George Miller. A proper medical doctor! So he and Kennedy would make short films in his off-time when he wasn’t working at the hospital; meanwhile, Kennedy flew to Los Angeles to spend six weeks studying “the contractual and legal aspects of film production, distribution and marketing in Hollywood”. When he returned to Australia, he came back with an edge that made him stand out at once.
Be creative, but always keep business considerations in mind, too
Miller and Kennedy wanted to make a film that was creative and could travel overseas easily, and that’s what Mad Max did.
But it took a while for the film to arrive at its final form. For instance, the character of Max Rockatansky began life on the page as a journalist; then he was changed into a teenager to appeal to the younger demographic; until he finally ended up as the decent police officer who breaks bad.
Another way that constraints helped in making Mad Max was thinking about practical considerations. They avoided setting it in the far future because that would require spending money on futuristic sets and props. Instead, Miller set the film in the “near-immediate future” because that allowed them to create convincing props and set design on a budget.
Think about how your film will sell
Is it easier to make a film set in your house about young people going through life problems? Yes. Will it sell? Well, unless you can write like Quentin Tarantino, Aaron Sorkin, Martin McDonagh, David Mamet, or Charlie Kaufman, chances are SLIM TO HELL NO.
Mind you, there is NOTHING wrong in wanting to make a movie that is both creative AND commercial. That’s the sweet spot— plus, the money it makes allows you to fund your next feature.
If you are making movies with the aim of making it your source of income, then you have to treat and think about it like a business. Which means both the creative and the practical business side of it.
Find collaborators who are strong in areas in which you are weak
I already mentioned Byron Kennedy, but this extends to other parts of the filmmaking process. When George Miller was dissatisfied with his script, he contacted his friend and journalist James McCausland and asked if he’d help him write the script. He especially wanted help with the dialogue.
Create a core concept that can travel regardless of language
“In the particular is contained the universal.” – James Joyce
Mad Max is unmistakably Australian. But unintentionally, the Max Rockatansky character also fitted the mold of an archetypal hero character, which helped other cultures around the world connect with the movie.
The Japanese said that Max was a lone rogue samurai—a ronin.1
The Scandinavians said, “[Max] is like a lone Viking!”
The French described Mad Max as “a Western on wheels”— a description that Miller liked immensely.
The upshot of this is that by tapping into archetypes while making it uniquely their own, Miller and Kennedy created a character— and subsequent franchise— with plenty of popularity and appeal across decades.
In other words, archetypes are useful. Ask George Lucas— he built his entire empire on them.
Watch other films
Good art is built on the works that came before it. Mad Max drew influences from a variety of films, from Fritz Lang’s Metropolis to Planet of the Apes, as well as Australian films such as The Cars That Ate Paris and a little-known film called Stone. Every good filmmaker borrows from other works, or takes something from it that they can use in their film. So go watch films!
Treat your films as serious investments to entice financiers to back your film
If I had to pick only one lesson worth taking from Mad Max, it would be this. It’s not enough to treat your films like art. If you want to make money— or at least recover your budget— you need to treat it like a financial investment.
When Miller and Kennedy ran out of people to ask for money, they approached Noel Harman, a Melbourne stockbroker who created a proposal that presented the film to investors as a financially attractive investment that could fill “a big gap in the market for something with heavy action”. By making “a business case for investing in Mad Max”, Harman argued it was “possible for the film to have a combined local box office of just over $1.1 million, providing a reasonable return on investment”, factoring in average audience attendance and a modest advertising budget.
This prospectus helped Miller and Kennedy circulate it amongst their circles, getting investments “in lots of $2,500” and “around $10,000”. It succeeded, and Mad Max was completely financed by private equity, giving Miller and Kennedy complete autonomy and helping to reap the rewards when the film did good business. The investors got their money back and still get money from the film to date.
For more, I highly recommend reading this Substack article from Lee Rudnicki on how to finance an independent film with private equity.
Casting is everything
Miller initially thought about casting an American actor in the lead role, but soon realized that that would wipe out most of the film’s tiny budget.2
So he cast Mad Max entirely with Australians, which led him to find future (and controversial) superstar Mel Gibson, then an unknown actor. Gibson—along with Hugh Keays-Byrne as the villainous Toecutter and others—really helped to sell the dystopian world of the film, proving that casting can make— or break— a film. Be precious when casting your film.
Prepare for Murphy’s Law
Oh boy did a LOT of things go wrong on the Mad Max shoot! On day one itself, there was the fracas over attempting to shoot a scene on the Melbourne freeway, without anyone discussing who was going to stop traffic.
Then a few days later, the stunt coordinator got into a bad accident that also resulted in the leading lady breaking her leg (he was bringing her to the set on his bike). Not only were they forced to recast the part and adjust the production schedule to factor the casting setback, but the possibility of their stunt coordinator being out of work created a serious question of whether they could proceed with the film.
It was so stressful that the normally unflappable Miller panicked. For a brief time, Kennedy reluctantly removed Miller as director and tried to find a replacement, before Miller convinced his best friend that he could do this.
So be ready: because whatever can go wrong will go wrong— your job is to respond accordingly and get the film across the finish line. If that sounds stressful, get a desk job. Filmmaking is fucking war!
Be prepared to face hostility on your first film
You’re the new guy, while the others have more experience and knowledge in technical areas, and are skeptical of what the hell you’re trying to do. If you aren’t an expert in the technicalities, this only increases the resistance. Actually, if you ARE an expert in the technicalities, that ALSO increases resistance.
Damned if you do, damned if you don’t!
This is always going to be the case. If you’re lucky, you all get along and are on the same page. If you’re not, then make sure you have at least one person staunchly in your corner— not just the producer, but ideally the cinematographer.
Unfortunately for Miller, he and his DP David Eggby clashed on nearly every shot, which no doubt only increased tensions. Nobody really seemed to have had a good time making Mad Max, including Miller himself.
Expect your film to look NOTHING like how you saw it in your mind
I think even experienced directors feel this, but on your first film, this realization hits with all the force of a sledgehammer. Budget constraints, inexperience, time, practicality, and expectations will force you to create what you can versus what you may have really wanted. All you’ll see are the flaws, and you’ll want to crawl under a rock and die.
That’s because there is still a gap between our vision and our skills. Ira Glass said it best:
Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know its normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.
When James Wan filmed his directorial debut Saw, he envisioned it as a Hitchcock-style thriller. But that required time for setups that they did not have, forcing him to make it in a completely different style… that ended up feeling like a deliberate artistic choice that fans embraced.
Hell, you don’t have to wait to make a feature film to experience this— it can happen as early as your short films!
Lord, I dread the day I have to make my first feature…
Surround yourself with supporters
Everyone, Miller included, thought Mad Max would flop. Only Kennedy and Roadshow’s then-managing director Graham Burke thought otherwise. In fact, after Burke saw a rough cut of Mad Max, he called people and raved that he’d just seen the greatest Australian film that “takes action to a whole new level”. Now that’s faith!
Pay back your investors first before you take a single cent
No, really. This is a no-brainer. If people lend you money for your film, it is your fiduciary responsibility to repay them. You can have what’s left over.
Think about how you want to compensate others
Although the Mad Max cast and crew were paid their contracted amounts in full, Kennedy and Miller didn’t share in any of the spoils. Now, given the hostility that Miller endured— not to mention their lack of faith in the film— it’s hard to entirely fault the producers from sharing the Mad Max windfalls.
In contrast, George Lucas shared points from both American Graffiti and Star Wars among the cast and crew.
This is a personal decision. Remember, though, generosity can go a long way just as tightly controlling the sharing of points can do. It’s up to you to decide what you want to do about it.
Making a film is war
The job has long hours, keeps you away from your family and friends for extended periods of time, and everyone is slowly losing their minds. As the director, it’s your job to keep everyone together and keep your focus on the objective.
That’s what Peter Weir told Miller, more or less, when the Mad Max director complained about his experience.
It’s true.
If filmmaking sounds like hell, get a different job.
But if you still want to do it… then welcome to the fray, friend!
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Long live the movies!
D.L. Holmes
Japanese critics told Miller, ‘You’ve watched a lot of [Akira] Kurosawa movies, obviously.’ Miller said, ‘Who’s Kurosawa?’ (then immediately watched everything Kurosawa did, which heavily influenced Mad Max 2).
Ironically, he would cast the British Tom Hardy in the role for 2015’s Mad Max: Fury Road.
“Filmmaking is fucking war!” - 😄