Immortan Joe verbalizes this when The Splendid Angharad (Rosie Huntington-Whiteley) flings herself halfway out of the cabin of the rig to protect Furiosa - he says of her pregnancy, “That is my child. Their fertility is heavily controlled and their physical organs are categorized separately from their person. Immortan Joe’s wives, his so-called breeders, are commodified for both their appearances as soft, beautiful women, and their reproductive ability. Similarly, living in captivity just above the only stores of fresh, green vegetation for miles, there are women in the Citadel whose entire lives orbit around being, quite literally, farmed for breast milk. When Max (Tom Hardy) is initially captured, his blood is drained and used to restore life to sick warboys he is even explicitly called a blood bag. The human body as a whole is a commodity, but things like blood, milk, and fertility are also all individually up for trade. The camera does not linger on them or trace any difference among them because none of it matters - they are nothing more than material goods. They are run over, blown up, and flung off cliffs – killed easily and simply. Essentially, they serve only to be organic cannon fodder for Immortan Joe (Hughs Keays-Byrne). The most obvious example of this is the army of warboys who are mostly nameless, practically faceless, and branded like cattle.
This enforcement of namelessness strips them of their humanity in order to justify violence. In some cases, names are used as an objectifier (the wives are named for physical traits), and for those actually who have names, they feel detached from them. Most of the characters are relatively anonymous. This half-dead world revolves around the commodification of nearly everything from natural resources to human lives. The film is a coherent discussion of environmental politics and the personal search for humanity in a world defined by violence. Mad Max: Fury Road may not be subtle in its expression of thematic content, but it is impressively well-stated and more nuanced than it appears at first glance. It is a world, as Max tells us as the film opens, of fire and blood. This earth is a disintegrating one, fraying, blistering, and roiling.
The sharp burning of the desert sun is only mollified by the heavy oceanic blues of night, mocking in their resemblance to the sea. Sand clings to and roughens bodies – shoves its way into lungs.
Not rain, but masses of boiling sand and overgrown branches of lightning. Instead, miles are swallowed by dry, coughing storms.